The moment Harry's voice fell, a dazzling light suddenly erupted from where their palms met.
A fierce wind rose in Harry's palm, blowing both their hair into a mess.
Conti couldn't help but squint, and a silver sun mark landed on his palm.
He could clearly feel an unfamiliar power spreading from the mark into his body.
Conti couldn't contain his excitement; he looked at the mark on his hand, a thrill rising in his blue eyes.
Harry withdrew his hand without a word, stared at Conti with a grave expression for a moment, then pulled a wad of toilet paper from his pocket and handed it over.
The expression on Conti's face froze; though puzzled, he obediently took the paper from Harry. "Master, what is this?"
Harry had a complicated look on his face and pointed solemnly at Conti's nose. Conti raised his hand to touch it and found it covered in blood.
Stunned, he looked at the blood on his hand, quickly pressed the tissue to his nose, his left eye filled with confusion and his right eye with alarm.
"Conti!" Harry said, his expression serious as he patted Conti on the shoulder. "You're not up to it!"
Conti's head jerked up. "???"
"Just one person to take the overflow of my magic is still too much for you," Harry sighed, a silver light flickering at his fingertips as the rate of the magical transfer slowed.
Conti's nosebleed finally stopped.
"You alone can't handle the power I'm diverting."
"When are you planning to go back for revenge?"
Harry poked Conti's shoulder. "Don't forget your promise. Give me your Esposito, and let your mafia all bear my mark."
Conti thought for two seconds. "If you need it urgently, I can leave now."
"Then now it is," Harry decided.
Before he left, Harry gave Conti a complete guide to spells, believing that with Conti's ability and ambition, teaching himself would not be a problem.
If he couldn't manage it, then tough luck for him.
Conti moved quickly; it took him only three months to reorganize Esposito and select trustworthy subordinates.
Through the mark on his hand, Harry made secondary marks on the people Conti had chosen, across the distance.
Without a face-to-face meeting, the effect was not as strong as with Conti, but the advantage was the greater number of people. After diverting more of his power, Harry finally felt his body become a bit more comfortable.
Though he was still fragile, at least he no longer coughed up blood at the slightest provocation. He could also use quick travel methods more often without worrying about his body falling apart as a result.
So, he took the lucky pocket watch and followed its guidance to search for his lucky gentlemen, beginning his wandering life.
On his path to finding luck, nine times out of ten, Harry's lucky ones were being hunted, and the tenth time, they were taking their last breath.
Harry was either pulling people out of danger or on his way to pull them out.
Every person he subdued, without exception, was marked and then sent to Italy for Conti to deal with.
When his body finally stopped being injured by the overload of magic, Harry, overjoyed, rewarded himself with a good meal. But he got too carried away with the drinking, ended up with alcohol poisoning, and was taken to the hospital by ambulance.
Conti came with people to pick him up.
Harry didn't think he had drunk that much; he had always drunk hard liquor before!
But the pressure the magic had put on his body lasted too long and left lasting effects.
For ordinary people, seeking death is just seeking death; for them, death is a probability.
But if Harry sought death, given his physical condition, he could dance a cheek-to-cheek dance with Death.
Overall, he was still that fragile.
Harry slumped dejectedly in a wheelchair as Conti took him back to Esposito Manor.
"I thought you would be aware of your physical condition and your physical age," Conti sighed, bending down to help adjust the blanket over Harry's legs.
Although during their first meeting, Harry used a spell to get into a bar that was off-limits to minors, Conti didn't see a problem with it.
Harry had the strength; getting in was his ability. It only meant the security at the bar's entrance was a bunch of useless people.
But Conti never expected that Harry would use magic to hide his age just to drink, and end up drinking himself into the hospital!
After years of social cooperation and development with other forces, even though Conti kept the internal affairs of Esposito tightly sealed, some information inevitably leaked out.
Before he got to the hospital, Mary and the others had already led their subordinates to intercept several waves of assassins.
"At least, you could have told us. We were all worried about you, Master," Conti said softly.
Harry had given them new life and strength; besides the bond of interest between master and servant, there was naturally also genuine reverence and care.
Harry understood, but he pouted in displeasure. "Hmph."
After sulking for a while, Harry quickly cheered himself up. "How is your infiltration of the magical world going?"
The non-magical world didn't need his attention; with Esposito's influence and the abilities of his servants, turning the original mafia into a big organization was not a problem.
The only potential issue was the infiltration into the magical world. Harry didn't have much knowledge of the hidden magical world within this world, and the others, originally non-magical people, certainly knew even less.
With incomplete intelligence, they were likely to suffer.
Mentioning the magical world brought a strange look to Conti's face.
Harry glanced sideways. "Hmm? Is there actually a problem?"
"No, not exactly a problem…" Conti didn't know how to describe it; he chose his words carefully.
"Master, you know that Esposito is a mafia family, and the mafia's style has always been one of violence…"
"From Mary and Johnny's interactions with the magical world, it seems the wizards there have a kind of naive sense of justice; any violent acts are classified as evil by them."
"The most typical examples are the German Dark Lord who rose during World War II and the British Dark Lord who went into hiding a few years ago."
"Perhaps…" Conti pondered for a moment. "Perhaps because the wizard population is exceptionally small, unlike the chaotic conflicts in the international community, maintaining long-term peace is simpler within the magical world."
"As for the specific details, I'm still not clear; Mary and Johnny haven't given me their report yet."
"But based on their interactions with the magical world, the magical government and those wizards… seem to view us as a third-generation Dark Force."
Harry remained silent for a moment, then spoke tactfully. "Conti, what I mean is, is there a possibility that the mafia is, well, not exactly the good guys?"
"Isn't it normal for regular people to be scared, disgusted, and repulsed when they see violence and killing?"
Conti paused for a moment, then suddenly realized: right, the mafia always spoke with fists and bullets; they were part of the dark forces to begin with!
And Mary and Johnny, one was a former assassin, the other a mercenary who used to navigate a hail of bullets, their methods certainly weren't going to be gentle. It was no wonder they were rejected.
Seeing too many friendly faces had made them forget they weren't the good guys.
Conti thought for a moment. "So, Master, should we change our style of operation before approaching the magical world again?"
Harry chuckled softly, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Change?"
"If you change the mafia's style for a bunch of strangers, what kind of mafia would that be?"
Conti also smiled and lowered his head. "You are right."
"However," Harry thought of something and swiftly changed his tone, "if you do take action in the magical world, try to keep it restrained and minimize wizard casualties."
"If they all die off, it won't be any fun."
"Yes."