Hearing the noisy shouts around them, George and Andre were a little confused, 'Is this new boss really strong?'

"George, Andre, come on, are you scared?" Li Zitao stood shirtless in the field, moving his body with shrugged shoulders.

"Boss, we won't let anything go." Andre threw down his shoulder bag, took off his coat and stood next to George.

"That's great." Li Zitao grinned.

"That's too arrogant, George, teach him a lesson." Andre lowered his head, gritted his teeth and growled at the companion beside him.

"That's right, we have to let him know that what he has to face is not a trash fish, but the elite Army soldiers of Country M." George said with the same gritted teeth.

The two of them have decided to teach the new boss a profound lesson, even if they offend him and lose their high-paying job.

The idea is beautiful, but the reality is often cruel. After discussing in whispers for a long time, the two soldiers decided to teach the new boss a good lesson.

When the battle just started, a cruel KO was ushered in.

He squatted down and swept his legs. George's body tilted to the left. Li Zitao jumped forward like a cheetah, and his shoulder hit George's chest with a 'dong'.

The opponent's limbs were stretched out weakly, his upper body curled up and flew backwards, and he groaned in pain.

The stunned Andre had only time to raise his arms in front of him, and a heavy hammer hit his arm.

As he flew backwards, he seemed to hear the groans and wails coming from the bones in his body. For the next two days, he didn't even have the strength to hold a spoon.

"Not bad, keep working hard." After patting George and Andre who were struggling to stand up, Li Zitao glanced to the right from the corner of his eyes.

The remaining 16 soldiers there were going to eat, and happened to see the scene that had just happened. Looking at the expressions on their faces, Li Zitao felt that they had begun to doubt life.

After a fight, the 18 newly arrived thornheads became well-behaved babies. When they saw him again, everyone's eyes had completely turned to awe.

"Lee, I heard that you offered them a monthly salary of US$100. I think they are very grateful to you." Dwight's rich and lazy voice came over the phone.

"I'm just doing what I can. Besides, you introduced them, right? Major." Li Zitao made no secret of his intention to make friends with the other party.

"Haha, do you need me to say thank you again?" Dwight said with a smile.

"Of course not, we are friends, aren't we?" Li Zitao said tentatively, his body sitting on the sofa straightened involuntarily.

"...Yes, I think we can be friends." After thinking for a moment, Li Zitao got the answer he wanted.

"So my friend, how can I help you?" Li Zitao didn't realize that the other party was calling to express his gratitude to him.

"I still have 500 good players here. I want to ask you if you can eat it?" As soon as Dwight finished speaking, the sound of heavy breathing came from the phone.

"Give me a while, I will take as many of you as you have." Li Zitao gritted his teeth, tensed his facial muscles, and swung his right hand forward with a destructive look.

As long as he can gain the satisfaction of these 500 veterans, Li Zitao is very sure that he can win the friendship of the army and even get a medal belt.

"I will let them arrive before August... If I have time, I will rush to Chicago myself. Lee, you still owe me a cup of coffee."

Dwight's tone became more enthusiastic, and he expressed the idea that he might come to Chicago in person.

"I will prepare the best coffee beans and look forward to your visit." After a few simple greetings, the call was hung up, but Li Zitao could not calm down.

Before August, there were still more than 20 days left, enough time to prepare.

"Old Huang, go find the best coffee beans you can find and tell Paul that no matter where it comes from, I will see it on the table within half a month.

In addition, a residence for 500 people will be built near the training ground. It will be a wooden structure with a cold-proof layer inside. It doesn’t have to look good, but the space and warmth must be ensured.”

Lao Huang meticulously wrote down his requirements in a notebook. He was not surprised by the construction of a house.

The kitchen next to the training ground and the coach's room were all built by him with the neighbors in District 22. They cost $5 per person every day, and everyone was busy working on it.

"Boss, there's nothing wrong with this, but..." Putting away his wallet and notebook, Lao Huang looked at him expressionlessly and said, "We have no money."

With the news of Paul's departure, more and more Chinese people gathered in District 22, and everyone spontaneously helped them build new houses and integrate into this big and vibrant family.

Even though Li Zitao was doing nothing all day and seemed not to care about anything, every time a new Chinese family came to District 22, he would personally chat with them.

Are there any difficulties in life? Do any family members want to join SHIELD? Do they need capital to start a small business?

Lao Huang's rough calculation of the expenses in this area alone was close to 20,000 U.S. dollars. Otherwise, how could the 50,000 U.S. dollars be gone so quickly?

"Ka!" Li Zitao seemed to hear the sound of heartbreak, no money, no money...

"This should be enough." He took out the brand new check in his pocket. It was a check of 66,000 US dollars written by Nucky to him. It was his only income in three months.

Of course, it was his private income. Paul often 'hired' SHIELD to help him solve some minor problems and escort goods. The income Li Zitao kept in SHIELD's books was regarded as daily circulation expenses.

After becoming a pauper again, Li Zitao never felt like he was now, and he hated why time passed so slowly.

"Ben, my money...?" He dialed Ben's phone number and chatted with him for a while. After learning that his 1.165 million had turned into 1.27 million, Li Zitao hung up the phone with satisfaction.

Although the money only represented a series of zero-sum numbers before it reached him, he still got great satisfaction.

In 1929, 1.27 million U.S. dollars, all of which belonged to a Chinese illegal worker who had only been in this world for three months. Who could have imagined all this.

"I love 1929." Standing in front of the small window, Li Zitao admired his 'territory' intoxicatedly.

He will build luxurious residences here, and he will make this a paradise that everyone aspires to. He will make every Chinese’s pockets so bulging that they can’t even hold the money they earn, with fragrant fragrance, and bring them with them.

Franklin with the scent of ink.

…

Just as Li Zitao was thinking about the future, Shlomo Ben Itzkic, who had just finished work, came home from get off work at the only stock exchange in Chicago.

At this time, the stock exchange, including Wall Street, opened at 11 a.m. and ended at 3 p.m. every day.

The exchange was filled with the ringing of telephones and the clack-clack-clack-clack of typewriters.

Each stock can only be traded once a day. Most of the time, investors stay in the exchange just to get first-hand information.

After all, in this era without the Internet, computers, smartphones, and various apps, staying on the exchange is the fastest, most convenient, and error-free way.

"Hi, Shlomo, how was your harvest today?" Familiar investment managers greeted each other as they walked out of the exchange.

"Not bad, Rush, where's yours?" Ben gently raised the brim of his hat and leaned forward slightly to say hello.

"Haha, I'm Rashjeff." The young man next to him laughed and patted his back against his ear. "Have you not chosen a replacement ticket for yourself? Do you want me to reveal some information to you?"

"No, no need." Ben smiled and waved his hand in refusal.

He once selected suitable investment stocks for himself, but when he found that as the stocks rose, his rationality began to rise and fall with the stock prices, so he threw away those stocks without hesitation and never participated in it personally again.

Maybe what he gave up was the opportunity to get rich suddenly, but except God, no one can guarantee that he will always win. He didn't want his reason to be eroded by greed one day.

In essence, stocks are undoubtedly like gambling. They are always operated by bankers, and people's greed will be infinitely magnified. He does not want to become impoverished one day.

Compared to a life of ups and downs, Ben prefers to be a little rich now, with a relatively wealthy life, stable income, savings, and a beloved wife.

"Oh, Shlomo," Rashdev frowned and looked at him with regret, "You are only 30 years old, how can you be as old-fashioned as my grandfather."

"Rush, personally participating in investment will make you lose your due judgment and rationality. There have been obvious changes in the stock market recently. Have you noticed?"

"Isn't it normal for changes? The stock market is changing every second. Because of this, we can pick up a lot of money in it." Rashdev stopped as he spoke, bent down and stretched out his arms, lying on the ground.

Pick it up gently.

Putting his palms curled up in front of Ben, Rashdev said mysteriously: "Look, making money is such a simple thing."

He shook his head helplessly, knowing that this colleague who worked for Chase National Bank had lost his due acumen and judgment under the huge profits.

However, he still needs to communicate with friends on Wall Street before he can make a clearer judgment about the recent changes.

But Ben was certain that the current stock market was not as calm as it seemed, and something he didn't know was happening.

What he needs to do is to understand these things and the turbulence and changes that may be caused behind them.

"My dear, you're back." When I got home, my gentle wife had already prepared dinner. Joanna's ancestors came from country F, which made Ben, who married her, always feel proud.

"Honey, I need to make a call first." After hugging and kissing his wife, Ben came to the study carrying his briefcase.

After World War I, thanks to the economic boom of the United States and the stock market's crazy rise, Ben's home moved from the suburbs to what is now South Keeler Street.

Before 1912, this was Chicago's original Chinatown, where most Chinese guilds and immigrants gathered, and Chinese people with pigtails could be seen everywhere.

However, with the construction of the new federal government building, the Chinese quickly moved from here to Block 22, Yonghuo Street and Shemai Road, and South Keeler Street became a new wealthy area.

"Bob, this is Ben, I need some news..." Seeing her husband holding the phone in the study, writing and drawing, Joanna, who had prepared dinner, gently closed the door.

After covering the food, Joanna turned on the radio, tuned to her favorite program, picked up the scarf that had just started in the knitting basket, and played with it while listening to the radio.
Chapter completed!