Chen spoke resolutely.
“Whether they’re white or anything else, anyone who interferes with our livelihoods won’t be left alone.”
The two sides squared off.
The cold dawn air stretched taut, sharp as a blade.
In the limited space illuminated by the headlights of several cars, two groups faced each other, glaring.
It was a situation on the verge of explosion, where blood could fly and bones could break at any moment.
Bancroft clicked his tongue in disdain.
“Fine. If that’s how you want to play. Then everyone, let’s—”
The very instant he raised his hand to give the attack signal,
“Wait!”
Someone shouted loudly from the darkness.
Everyone’s gaze turned simultaneously toward the source of the voice.
From the shadows, two more cars appeared, their headlights flashing. Honking their horns loudly,
they approached slowly, but with overwhelming pressure.
Honk! Honk!
The cars stopped, and the doors opened.
Large, burly men poured out. But this time, they weren’t ragged thugs like Bancroft’s men.
These were disciplined members, dressed in black suits from head to toe.
They appeared to be Italian.
“What is this…”
Bancroft looked flustered.
This was a variable he hadn’t accounted for.
A man at the front stepped out from the darkness.
A middle-aged man in a black suit, his fedora pulled low.
There was not the slightest hesitation in his stride, and that alone projected a commanding presence that overwhelmed his surroundings.
“What’s all this commotion at dawn?”
A low, gravelly voice.
It sounded like pebbles rolling across the ground.
Lee Jun-hyuk recognized him.
He hadn’t seen the man’s face before, but he could tell from that distinctive aura.
This was another power in Brooklyn.
The gigantic organization built by Italian immigrants. The Mafia.
“And you people are…?”
Bancroft revealed a wary, brittle edge.
“I’m Joe Petrucci.”
The middle-aged man pulled out a cigarette and put it to his lips.
One of his subordinates swiftly stepped forward and lit it for him. The sharp click of the metal lighter rang out loudly in the silence.
“The businesses in this neighborhood are under our protection, but here you are making all this racket without our permission.
That’s pretty rude, don’t you think?”
“Protection? What the hell are you talking about?”
“La Choy Foods.”
Petrucci jerked his chin at Lee Jun-hyuk.
“From today, this business is under our protection. So if you mess with this factory, you’re basically declaring war on us. Do you understand?”
Lee Jun-hyuk stared at him, eyes wide with shock.
Why would the Mafia want to protect him? Did Grandpa Kim Bong-seok pull some strings?
Bancroft’s face flushed, red and blue with rage and bewilderment.
“Who the hell do you think you are, interfering in my business—”
“Bancroft.”
Petrucci exhaled a long stream of smoke into Bancroft’s face.
“Let me tell you an old story. Five years ago, that laundry owner you torched with dirty money—remember?”
At those words, Bancroft’s shoulders flinched.
“That man was a close relative of one of our members. We let it slide because we were busy back then.
But do you think we’ll do the same this time?”
There was no mistaking the threat in his words.
Petrucci’s men simultaneously reached inside their jackets. There, cold guns surely waited.
It was a show of force that needed no words.
“Guns…”
One of Bancroft’s men recoiled in fear.
The entire atmosphere shifted.
No matter how many people they had, wooden sticks and steel pipes couldn’t win against guns. This wasn’t a fight—it could easily turn into a massacre.
“I hope you make the wise choice.”
Petrucci glanced at his wristwatch.
“You’ve got three minutes. In that time, I want you all out of my sight.”
Bancroft ground his teeth in humiliation.
But there was no room for choice.
The other side was real Mafia, perfectly willing to use guns.
“…Fine. We’ll back off for now.”
He shot Lee Jun-hyuk a look full of venom.
“But remember, this isn’t over. I swear—”
“Thirty seconds.”
Petrucci cut him off coldly.
Bancroft said nothing more, motioning to his men.
They hurriedly piled into the cars.
Not a single jeer or complaint was left behind.
Petrucci spoke again.
“I hope you’ll be willing to do me a small favor someday. Nothing too burdensome, I promise.”
Nothing in the world came for free, after all.
Lee Jun-hyuk hesitated for a moment.
Getting involved with the Mafia was obviously dangerous.
But what if something like tonight happened again?
Could he really handle it alone?
“I’ll decide after hearing what kind of favor you want.”
He replied, unyielding.
Petrucci’s eyes narrowed.
He seemed pleased.
“Good. That’s plenty.”
Petrucci stood up.
“Oh, and one more thing. Bancroft will never give up. He’s a filthy bastard who lives on pride.”
“I know.”
“Be careful. Next time, he’ll be more cunning and more despicable.”
Petrucci headed for the door.
But before leaving, he turned back.
“The canned food business… that’s quite an interesting idea. I hope you succeed.”
After he left, Lee Jun-hyuk was alone in the office.
He looked out the window.
Dawn was breaking.
The darkness of the night was receding, and the sky was gradually growing lighter. When he stepped outside, the Chinese merchants were still there.
“Are you all right?”
Zhen came over and asked.
“Yes, thanks to you, I’m safe.”
Lee Jun-hyuk bowed to them.
“Truly, thank you, all of you.”
“This is nothing.”
Zhen waved his hand dismissively.
“We’ve suffered plenty because of that guy too. Now that he’s been properly taught a lesson, things should stay quiet for a while.”
One by one, the Chinese merchants began climbing into their cars.
“Please take good care of us in the future.”
The leader sent by Chairman Wang came over and offered Lee Jun-hyuk a handshake.
“La Choy canned food, it’s really delicious. Our association members all love it.”
“I’ll repay you with even better products.”
The Chinese merchants departed, and in front of the factory only Lee Jun-hyuk, Yu Ilhan, and the guards remained.
“Whew…”
Yu Ilhan let out a long sigh.
“That was intense. It almost turned into a huge brawl.”
“Yeah.”
Only now did Lee Jun-hyuk feel his tension begin to unravel.
His legs felt weak, as if he might collapse.
“But why did the Mafia suddenly come to help us…?”
Yu Ilhan asked, looking puzzled.
“I think… it must be thanks to Grandpa Kim Bong-seok.”
Lee Jun-hyuk explained simply.
“My goodness… To think Grandpa Kim, who used to run a small Herbal Pharmacy near Columbia University, had such incredible connections.”
“I only found out myself today.”
The sun had fully risen.
Morning sunlight began to stream across the road in front of the factory.
Instead of the menacing noise that filled the night, the chirping of birds was now audible.
“Is it really over now?”
Yu Ilhan still sounded worried.
“I’m not sure. According to Mr. Petrucci, Bancroft won’t give up so easily.”
“Well then…”
“For now, we need to continue business as usual. If we shrink back now, that’s as good as losing to that guy.”
Lee Jun-hyuk looked around the factory.
Fortunately, there was no damage.
Not even a single broken window.
“We have deliveries to make today, right?”
“Yes. We have five hundred cans from last night’s extra production.”
“Then let’s get ready. Jack, Tony, thank you for working so hard all night. You can go home now.”
The two guards nodded, their faces tired.
“I’m just glad nothing happened.”
Jack said.
“Never thought the Mafia would show up, though.”
“Please take care again tonight.”
“Don’t worry. We’ll guard the place even more thoroughly.”
After the two men left, Lee Jun-hyuk and Yu Ilhan went back inside the factory.
“Shall we wash up first?”
Yu Ilhan said, rubbing his own haggard face. He still showed clear signs of having pulled an all-nighter.
“Let’s do that. I need a wash too.”
The two of them splashed cold water on their faces in the washroom. The icy water instantly helped wash away some of the fatigue and tension built up overnight.
“Boss.”
Yu Ilhan said as he wiped his face with a towel.
“What should we tell the employees about what happened at dawn?”
“We’ll tell them the truth.”
Lee Jun-hyuk answered firmly.
“We can’t hide it, and there’s no reason to. The fact that we faced down such cowardly threats together, without backing down, will only lift everyone’s spirits.”
By eight o’clock, the employees started arriving one by one.
“Good morning!”
Walter arrived first as usual. But the moment he stepped up to the factory entrance, his face froze.
“What in the world…?”
Dozens of cigarette butts were scattered on the ground. Traces of the tense standoff at dawn.
“There was a bit of trouble last night.”
Lee Jun-hyuk calmly explained to all the employees once they had gathered.
Bancroft’s attempted assault, the help from the Chinese merchants who braved the threats to come, and even the unexpected intervention of the Mafia.
The employees listening to the story turned pale.
“So… he really showed up with men to attack us?”
One of the female workers asked in a trembling voice.
“Yes. But as you can see, nothing happened. Thanks to our colleagues and neighbors.”
Lee Jun-hyuk looked at each employee, one by one, as he spoke.
“This sort of thing may happen again. There are bound to be people who don’t like seeing us succeed, just because we’re Asian.”
The employees exchanged anxious glances.
“But we will not yield. We will do business the right way, make the best products, and we will succeed. Isn’t that right?”
Walter was the first to nod.
“You’re right, boss. We haven’t done anything wrong. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. Let’s work with pride!”
With his words, the other employees began to agree, one by one. Where there had been fear, now determination and resolve began to rise.
“All right, then—let’s work hard today, too!”
Yu Ilhan called out brightly, trying to shift the mood.
“We got a lot of extra orders yesterday, and there’s plenty to deliver today!”
The employees returned to their stations.
The anxiety hadn’t completely vanished from their faces, but at least now there was a clear will to overcome this together in their eyes.
As Lee Jun-hyuk headed up to the office, he thought to himself.
“I’m even more worried about what’s to come. I can’t afford to be careless.”
Bancroft wouldn’t give up. He would come back with even more cunning and dirtier tricks.
But Lee Jun-hyuk wasn’t afraid.
This morning had proven he wasn’t alone.
The Chinese merchants, Grandpa Kim Bong-seok, and even unexpected help from elsewhere.
“So I have to protect this place no matter what.”
For his family, for Catherine, and for all the employees who believed in and followed him.
He sat at his desk and opened the ledger.
Despite last night’s commotion, today’s tasks were piled up like a mountain. He had to sort out the extra orders received, schedule the deliveries, and plan for purchasing additional raw materials.
He picked up his pencil and started writing down the numbers.
Heungseong Store: 100 cans ordered.
Taeguk Store: 100 cans for Regular Order.
Five new clients: total of 200 cans.
“We’re already at a daily Order Volume of 400 cans…”
From 380 cans on the first day, up to 400 cans in just two days.
At this rate, they’d soon need to expand the production facilities.
Just then, the phone rang.
“La Choy Foods.”
“Lee Jun-hyuk? It’s Kim Bong-seok.”
It was Grandpa’s voice.
Calling this early in the morning.
“Grandpa, hello. Did you sleep well?”
“I heard everything was resolved last night.”
Of course, he knew everything.
“Yes, thanks to you, Grandpa. That man Petrucci came and helped us…”
“I’m glad that old friend was of use.”
There was relief in Kim Bong-seok’s voice.
“Thank you so much. For all this help…”
“Well, that’s what compatriots are for, to help each other out. I’ve known you since you were a student at Columbia University, after all.”
His words were warm, but his tone turned serious again.
“But there’s something you need to be careful about.”
“Yes, Grandpa.”
“Petrucci is trustworthy, but at the end of the day, he’s still Mafia. Never get too deeply involved.”
“I understand.”
“And as for Bancroft… be especially careful. He’s like a viper. Once he bites, he never lets go.”
A chilling warning.
“What should I do to prepare?”
“First, gather evidence. Record everything that bastard does—his threats, bringing men to attack—document it all in detail. It’ll definitely come in handy one day.”
“Understood.”
“And never go anywhere alone. Especially at night.”
When he hung up, it was eight-thirty.
Grandpa Kim Bong-seok’s warning still rang in his ears.
“He’s like a viper. Once he bites, he never lets go.”
Lee Jun-hyuk pulled a clean notepad from the drawer.
Following Grandpa’s advice, he began to record the events of last night in as much detail and objectivity as possible.
Leaving out emotion, he wrote down the date, time, Bancroft’s exact words, the number of people he’d brought and their weapons, even the names of witnesses.
Someday, this record could be a weapon aimed at Bancroft’s throat.
The sound of his pen scratching across the paper echoed loudly in the quiet office.
March 27, 1920, 3:15 p.m. William Bancroft made an unannounced visit to the La Choy factory.
“Accompanying personnel: 2 including himself. One assumed driver.”
“Statements: ‘Even monkeys are running businesses these days,’ ‘There’s no way food made by Orientals could be sanitary,’ ‘For all I know, you put dog food in those cans’—multiple racist and insulting remarks.”
As he wrote, the anger from yesterday welled up inside him again.
He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath.
“Threats: If we don’t close by noon tomorrow, we’ll regret it. Hinted at pressuring health authorities. Suggested possibility of arson.”
“Witnesses: Director Yu Ilhan, Walter Smith, and 8 other La Choy Foods employees.”
Then he heard the machinery start up on the floor below.
The low vibration passed through the wooden floor, reaching his feet.
Production had already begun for the morning.
March 28, 3:15 a.m. Bancroft attempts factory raid with approximately 30 men.
“Weapons: wooden clubs, steel pipes, etc.”
“Our defenders: 2 guards (Jack O’Brien, Tony), about 20 members of the Chinatown Chinese Merchants’ Association.”
Here, he paused his pen.
Should he write about the Mafia’s involvement or not? He hesitated.
But this too was an undeniable fact.
“Joe Petrucci and about 10 subordinates intervened. Forced Bancroft’s group to retreat.”
When he finished, the notes filled two whole pages.
Lee Jun-hyuk carefully sealed them in an envelope and hid it in the deepest part of his drawer. Someday, this record might become a blade at Bancroft’s throat.
Knock knock.
He heard a knock at the door.
“Come in.”
Yu Ilhan entered, holding two steaming cups of coffee.
“Have some coffee, boss.”
“Thank you.”
Lee Jun-hyuk took a cup and sipped.
The rich aroma tickled his nose.
He felt some of his exhaustion fade.
“We’re in the middle of the first batch now. Should get about 200 cans.”
Yu Ilhan reported.
“Are we still good on raw materials?”
“Yes, for now we’re fine. But at this pace, we’ll definitely need to place another order next week.”