The impact of the "Seven Hours of Nuclear War" on the world is much greater than the last "whiskey on ice" incident.
Coupled with the divergence of the dollar and the price of gold, Seryosha has made much more gains this time than last time, and with this money, many problems will be solved.
But more money is just a number, and for Seryosha, the top priority is to get rid of the current inefficient method of money laundering as soon as possible.
Seryosha didn't think about accepting it when he saw it, and stopped all his business.
But this is not realistic at all, because even if Seryosha does not want to do it, his clients will force him to continue to do it, not to mention the border guards who smuggled oil with Seryosha, the bureaucrats of Uzbekistan are already accustomed to Nikolai's existence, and if Nikolai suddenly disappears, then Mikhail and Yakov, who are Nikolai's agents, will be in great trouble.
Chubanov quickly got his fair share, looking at the long list of zeros on the account, Chubanov was very excited, he raised his account certificate, and said to Seryosha with feeling: "Do you know what this means, it is hope, freedom, and a better future" Seryosha nodded in agreement, now it was his turn to envy Chubanov, and Seryosha also hoped that he would be able to break free from the weaving of money like him and live a carefree life.
But Seryosha probably had no idea that his plan for a new Moscow workers' village would soon come up with a formidable challenge from the Moscow lawyer, the "little Japan" Vyacheslav Ivankov.
Seryosha's workers' village considered all the problems, but not the gangs in the south of the city.
On the streets of Moscow, especially far from the city, it is not the police of the Ministry of Internal Affairs who are most difficult to mess with, but the ubiquitous gangsters.
It is said that during the Olympics, Chubanov reached an agreement with the gangsters to temporarily solve the law and order problem in Moscow.
Seryosha's new village of Moscow workers' village was close to Ivankov's territory, which made Ivankov feel extremely uncomfortable, and the construction of the project suddenly poured in a lot of strangers, which put Ivankov's business in danger of leaking.
He would not allow anyone to enter his territory without his permission, not even the government Ivankov would buy it.
Ivankov once asked his subordinates to warn the construction companies involved in this project, but his subordinates obviously did not understand how seriously Ivankov took this matter, and only made a few small sabotages, and by the way, he made a little money to enrich his pockets, and that's it.
However, Ivankov never asked about it.
It wasn't until four more construction companies were involved that the scope of the work was further expanded that Ivankov noticed what was happening here.
Ivankov felt that he was going to give Petrov a mention, he felt that this old guy was so ignorant of how to lift, didn't he know what kind of business he was doing, he was breaking ground on his own territory with such fanfare, and what kind of new workers' village was being built, and the eyes of the whole city were focused on this, and how to make his business go on. 。。。
In the early morning, a heavy bulk cement mixer truck was slowly driving from outside the city towards the project site of the new Moscow workers' village, and when the car was about to enter the large unfinished building in the south of the city, the driver suddenly found that the road ahead had been blocked.
A group of people wearing hard hats and holding iron bars in their hands gathered on the road, several cement piles were placed in front of them, and the strong light shone on the driver's seat of the car, and the driver could not open his eyes.
"Hiss" There was a sound of attacking brakes, and the driver quickly stopped the car, he didn't know what was going on in front of him.
"You, come down and talk," a man in a sports jacket said viciously with an iron rod pointing at the driver.
"Boss, what's the matter" The mixer truck driver knew that he had met the gangsters, but he didn't know what they wanted to do.
So I can only do what the other party does.
"Boss, there is something to say" The driver took out a few rubles from his pocket and offered them with both hands, not that the driver was timid and afraid, but it was really night, and there was no shop in front of the village here, even if these people killed themselves, no one would know.
"Don't do this, let me tell you, our boss wants to ask you drivers for a favor, as long as you are obedient, there is nothing to do with you," the other party threatened, and put the money in his pocket.
"Surely, I'll do it right, as long as you can let me go," said the mixer driver nervously.
"Alright, now pour out all the cement you've pulled over, and get me out in your car," the man in the track jacket said viciously.
"Ah, pour it out and fall somewhere, on the road," the truck driver asked, half worried, half confused.
"Don't talk nonsense, if you want to fall down, you will fall, how do you want to eat a few punches" The jacket man yelled impatiently.
"Yes, yes, I'll be in the driver's hand" The driver quickly climbed into the car, and the man in the jacket beckoned two more guys, one of whom also climbed into the car, and the other began to instruct the driver to reverse.
The mixer truck driver can only honestly play the steering wheel, and he will do whatever the other party asks him to do, anyway, these cements are also the state, and his own life is important, and he can't take his own life for this bit of precast concrete for the public.
The car quickly turned in a direction on the empty road, and the guy who commanded the reverse saw that the car was almost in the same position, and gestured to his companion sitting in the car.
"Alright, now put up the thing in the back of your car, hurry," said the guy in the car impatiently.
The driver didn't dare to hesitate, he pressed the switch on the car, and soon the mixing drum that was constantly tumbling behind the car was slowly erected, and dozens of tons of cement began to pour down and fell on the road.
Ten minutes later, the driver of the mixer truck poured all the precast concrete according to the other party's instructions, and the guy in the car said to the driver: "I remember you, next time you dare to come, don't blame us for where we are now."
"I don't dare to come again," the driver said in a cold sweat on his head.
He hurriedly sent the guy in the car down like a plague god, and then kicked the accelerator and fled here as fast as he could.
On this very night, this scene was played out on almost all the roads leading to the construction workers of the new village, and the workers on the construction site who were waiting for the materials knew that they did not wait for the arrival of a cement mixer truck at dawn. t1706231537: