The conversation between the two people in the room continued, but they didn't know that Giana had recorded their entire conversation, word for word.
Among these four people, two were neutral, while two were extremely rigid conservatives. They believed Giana's succession was somewhat illegitimate and even suspected that she was responsible for her brother Santino's death.
These two rigid conservatives were Gibbs and Andrew, but they had no way to stop Giana from taking power because her prestige and popularity were too high.
Since they couldn't prevent her coronation, they could only start from within, to divide Giana's power and influence.
But Giana was clearly not someone to be trifled with, and naturally wouldn't let them succeed so easily.
After all their conversations were recorded, Giana didn't plan to move against them yet, as the timing wasn't right.
Santino's death had caused considerable shock within the Mafia, leading to two opposing viewpoints, which forced Giana to implement some strategies to appease the factions.
And her tacit approval of Gibbs and Andrew sending a killer after Johnny was also a necessary evil, despite her agreement with John.
Half an hour later, the car stopped steadily at a manor. Giana got out of the car, walked towards the house, and entered the first floor. John was standing in the hall, looking at a medieval world map.
"Sometimes, I often wonder, if this dynasty hadn't fallen, would we be Chinese now?"
John turned around and looked at Giana as she entered the door.
"Who can know that? But at least current history tells us he didn't succeed, doesn't it? Even if they were once called the Scourge of God."
Giana spoke as she walked over and sat on the living room sofa, then pulled out a voice recorder from her pocket, pressed play, and placed it on the table.
Seeing this, John didn't ask any questions; he simply walked over and sat on the sofa opposite Giana.
"It seems we'll have to send that guy."
"But that guy is a bit uncontrollable."
"Just tell that guy the target is Night Owl's disciple, and he'll go."
"But we need to be careful; that guy might retaliate, and he doesn't fully obey us."
"Don't worry, as long as it involves John, he will act without hesitation."
"Alright, in that case, let him go."
The recording finished quickly because the rest was about other matters; John didn't listen, and Giana couldn't be bothered to play it.
"White Lion?"
After hearing the conversation of these two old fellows, John immediately knew who they were talking about.
White Lion, one of the top assassins in the Italian Mafia.
As the Mafia's black hand, he carried out many assassination missions.
He was also once John's strongest rival, competing for the title of King of the Night. However, John was slightly luckier than him, which is why White Lion has held a grudge for so many years.
Wherever John appeared, he would always show up to join the excitement, but since John retired, White Lion's enthusiasm seemed to have waned considerably.
Giana didn't speak; she just propped her chin on her right hand, quietly watching John.
But John already understood that White Lion was preparing to act, though the cost of getting White Lion to act seemed a bit high.
However, John also knew that once White Lion made a move, his troublesome disciple would be in serious trouble.
White Lion's strength was on par with his own, whether in combat, marksmanship, or assassination methods, and he was even more adept at elegant assassinations from the shadows.
"It seems your precious disciple is about to face a life-or-death crisis. What will you do? Will you stop it, or will you continue to let it happen?"
Giana's words were full of mockery; she was certain John wouldn't let Johnny directly confront White Lion.
This was entirely a game of an adult bullying a child.
John closed his eyes and only opened them after a long while, "If he insists on acting, I won't stand by and do nothing."
Hearing John's words, Giana smiled.
"Since you've made your decision, I won't try to persuade you further. I can only say, be careful, and I will handle the gang affairs as quickly as possible."
This was the last promise Giana could give John.
But John also knew that there were too many problems involved, and it was unlikely Giana could resolve them in a short time.
Meanwhile, in a manor in Tuscany, Italy.
White Lion, Luca Salvatore, who had stopped taking contracts, was operating a winery in Tuscany under the alias "Paolo Rossi."
His cellar secret room displayed all his mission files, with a photo of John's last target hanging in the very center.
In the 1999 Naples port mission, both men assassinated rival gang leaders.
John, due to a sudden change in wind direction, caused the target's bodyguard to be exposed early, unexpectedly gaining a one-second head start to complete the mission. White Lion, however, was defeated by chance despite his precise calculations, and has since detested the word "luck."
After John announced his retirement, he also stopped taking missions, operating this winery under the alias Paolo Rossi.
Intimidated by his formidable strength, everyone in the gang dared not voice any complaints about him stopping contracts, and even had to provide him with good food and drink.
This was the deterrent power of a top assassin.
Just then, the ancient red telephone on the wall, seemingly a relic from World War II, rang.
Ding-a-ling~
The sound was very clear and extremely penetrating.
Soon, a middle-aged man with silver-white hair, gray-blue eyes, and dressed in a grey-white suit walked in.
He approached the telephone, staring at the still ringing and slightly vibrating phone, and frowned.
After a long while, he reluctantly picked up the red telephone.
"Apologies for disturbing your rest. There's a mission I need you to undertake."
An aged voice came from the phone.
White Lion, however, said coldly, "I no longer take missions."
His coldness carried an undeniable authority. The aged voice on the other end paused instantly, a bead of cold sweat slowly trickling down; he felt as if hell was beckoning him.
But he continued, "The mission target is Night Owl, Night Owl's disciple."
When he finished speaking, the other end of the phone fell into a long silence. He even thought the call had been hung up.
After an unknown amount of time, a slightly hoarse voice finally came from the receiver, "I'll take it."
Sure enough, he knew he had gambled correctly, so he quickly said, "I will send his information to your email in a moment."
After speaking, as if afraid the other party would change his mind, he directly hung up the phone.
Listening to the dial tone, White Lion remained silent for a long time, then turned to look at the file, at the photo in the center.
Then, a slow curve formed on his lips.
"John, I didn't expect you to take another disciple."
His gray-blue pupils gradually brightened.
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