Marvel: Impregnation System

Chapter 149 - 144: Lucky Incorporated

Next Morning,

"So it's done?" Ricky asked, glancing at Meyer, who was meticulously reviewing the documents.

This wasn't just a typical mafia meeting, it was the beginning of a new cooperation, one that they believed would eventually grip the world in a stranglehold. For now, though, it was known to these few as something else entirely.

'Lucky Incorporated'

Originally Lucky, much like before, protested vehemently against the name, finding it completely embarrassing.

So Ricky really took his words into consideration and thoughtfully submitted the name behind his back. Ricky had honestly decided to name all his business ventures after Lucky as a form of respect, with the Trust being the sole exception, bearing the name Luciano.

Everyone in the room would serve as the foundation for the massive corporation it was destined to become in the future. For now, however, it consisted of the following individuals:

Board Members:

Lucky Luciano

Ricky Luciano Meyer Lankey

Chores Macgillicuddy

Samuel Frost (Agatha's Coven)

CEO: Chores Macgillicuddy

CTO: Samuel Hawke

Just A Brief Description: Samuel Frost has become the designated liaison that has been chosen by Agatha and approved by all the elders. He is also the grandson of Cedric Hawke and Seraphina Wren who are one the oldest elders residing on the council. Samuel is a very quiet but firm man who has been working with Chores extensively within the Magical engineering department and has received Chores personal approval as well.

The other positions were already being filled by some of the more technological members of the coven like the COO, CFO, and along with some high ranking mobsters within the Luciano family including Lil Tony.

However these were only the positions as the requirements that were needed and paperwork was what really set these back.

Companies required corporate bylaws, a registered agent, business licenses and permits, a core bank account held at Lucky Legacy Bank, operating agreements, tax registration, insurance, employment agreements, intellectual property protection, and various other arrangements all which were being met.

But for now, Lucky Incorporated was owned entirely by the Luciano Family Trust. Since private shares were not promised to Chores or those in managerial positions unless the company went public, at which point they would receive shares based on their contributions.

But those details didn't concern anyone in the room and with Lucky Legacy Bank approving the low interest loan, the only question that remained was whether the products would fail or succeed in the market.

"It looks like Lucky Incorporated is in business," Meyer said with a grin, clapping his hands as the others followed suit, applauding the achievement and yet, Ricky remained seated, his posture slightly tense.

"What about the patents-"

"All were filed, approved, and are officially under the ownership of Lucky Incorporated," Meyer reassured Ricky, who gave a subtle nod, still processing that he actually made a company.

Out of all the products and blueprints Ricky had carefully devised, he decided it was best to give Chores some breathing room as he handed him just seven, knowing that overwhelming him would do more harm than good.

Them being Stainless Steel Insulated Mug, Electric Kettle, Coffee Maker, Steel Refrigerator, Blender, Vacuum Cleaner, and the Wine Cooler.

There were many reasons Ricky held back from flooding the market with additional products, but the most pressing one was the technology itself. Chores, despite his talents, struggled to develop three key products: the Air Conditioner, Washing Machine, and Stainless Steel Microwave. Each posed unique challenges in terms of design, efficiency, and the integration of the cutting-edge technology that the blueprints had envisioned.

The technology simply wasn't there for these advanced products, and Chores would need to dedicate more time to furthering his research and finding viable alternatives. They had poured countless hours into perfecting these items, ensuring that the technology, materials, and cost-effective production methods were optimized. Until then, they had their core products, those that were ready for market and had been meticulously refined by Chores and his team. They had poured countless hours into perfecting these items, ensuring that the technology, materials, and cost-effective production methods were optimized. The result was a lineup of products that promised to deliver significant profit, allowing the company to build a strong foundation as they waited for further advancements in their more ambitious projects.

So much so that rumors began to fester, whispering through the streets of Staten Island.

Residents caught faint murmurs of the groundbreaking products that were quietly brewing behind closed doors, stirring a sense of anticipation. The secrecy only added to the intrigue, as people speculated on what the Luciano family might be preparing, something big, something that could reshape the market and put their name in every household.

"Alright, Chores, you ready?" Ricky asked, rubbing his hands together as he looked at Chores, his gaze steady. His colleagues gathered around, the room thick with anticipation and every eye was on Chores, waiting for him to give the word as it was time for the next phase of the plan to unfold.

Chores had more or less proven himself to the Coven, earning a place not just as an ally, but as an honorary member of the Magical Engineering Division. Agatha, recognizing his potential, had ordered a sizable portion of the coven to lend their talents, assisting Chores in the production of the groundbreaking items. Together, they worked tirelessly, and soon, the first ever employees of Lucky Incorporated were born.

It was only a small step and not a complete certainty but under Ricky's leadership, the future of the Luciano family was no longer just rooted in crime as it was intertwined with innovation, power, and the shifting tides of a world on the brink of change.

"Yes, Slick, I really think we can do this," Chores said, his voice steady and confident as he gave Ricky a firm nod, a silent promise that the work ahead would be done right.

"What about you, Sammy? Is the Coven ready?" Ricky asked, leaning his head on his hand while his gaze became steady onto Samuel who adjusted his glasses.

"Yes, to highlight this we are sending some of the rowdy children who are less enthusiastic about our goals towards your family," Samuel's eyes gleamed, and Ricky understood as he nodded.

The purpose of a coven was for a collective of witches and warlocks to unite, offering each other protection, fostering innovation, and creating a shared sense of belonging. But with the protection now provided by the Luciano family, the coven no longer had to dedicate their energy to evading or hiding from witch hunters as this shift allowed them to focus on their craft and goals without the looming threat of being hunted.

Instead, they were free to function as true harbingers of magic, devoting their time and energy to their studies and advancements. At the end of the day, magic stemmed from the pursuit of knowledge, and these practitioners, despite their power, were all nerds at their core, obsessed with unlocking the secrets of the arcane and pushing the boundaries of their craft.

But not everyone embraced the change. Some of them found the idea of being holed up in a room surrounded by books, endlessly scribbling arithmetic equations, to be stifling as it wasn't the life they had imagined when they first delved into magic. That's where the Luciano family came in, offering a different kind of freedom, a chance to channel their talents into something more tangible, something that promised power, influence, and a purpose beyond the confines of research

"Good, send 'em over," Ricky nodded, his tone firm but satisfied and Lucky leaned back in his chair with a proud smirk, his posture relaxed as he stood up.

"How about a celebratory drink to celebrate-"

"Aye, AYE!" Frank shouted from the front of Italiano's, his voice cutting through the room as the doors suddenly burst open, drawing everyone's attention.

BAM n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

"GET 'EM!" Frank roared, prompting several grunts to tackle the two intruders. Chaos suddenly erupted inside the establishment, leaving everyone confused, everyone except Ricky, whose eyes widened in recognition as a familiar face was forced onto the floor.

"PLEASE, JUST ONE SECOND-" James yelled, only to be cut off as Frank's fist smashed into his mouth, silencing him instantly.

"Sorry about that Boss, I'll take care of this-"

"Bucky?" Ricky stood up, momentarily thinking his eyes were deceiving him. But as he focused on the familiar face, the memories rushed back. Bucky struggled beneath the weight of a grunt's hand, pressing his face into the floor, trying to look up despite the force keeping him down.

"L-Long time no see." Bucky joked, his voice muffled but carrying a hint of humor at the irony of their reunion as Ricky burst out laughing as he quickly waved his hand, signaling the grunts to release Bucky and the other intruder and without hesitation, they stepped back, letting the two men get to their feet.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Ricky asked, extending a hand to help his old friend up. Bucky accepted the help, dusting himself off and rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish grin.

"Geez, I haven't seen you in f*cking forever." Ricky was a little surprised at his own sight, thinking he'd never see the guy before him again, standing tall above the grown Bucky who had to look up.

It wasn't really discussed much, with so many pressing matters at hand, but those growth tonics from the Coven had significantly amplified Ricky's growth spurt. At 15, he was already 5'11, but now he stood tall at 6'3, on the verge of clearing the next inch.

Bucky, standing at around 5'10, was momentarily caught off guard by Ricky's towering height and more solid build before breaking into a smile at his old friend.

"C'mon, don't just stand there and gawk, how have you been?" Ricky slapped his shoulder, happily surprised at his sudden arrival.

"It's a long story, but if you wouldn't mind, it'd mean a lot if you heard James out," Bucky said, feeling even more guilty at how he needed to direct the conversation to the side while pointing to James and Ricky raised a brow, curious.

"You know these guys, Slick?" Frank asked, his gaze steady as James stumbled to his feet.

"I know Bucky here," Ricky replied, patting Bucky's shoulder with a smile. "We were in the same orphanage before Lucky took me in." Ricky laughed, slinging his arm around Bucky in a familiar gesture.

"Come on over here, tell me what I can do for you," Ricky said, patting his chest and guiding Bucky to the side. "Wait, I'm here for James, and if you remember, he's the guy who fended off those bullies who chased us from the baseball field all the way back," Bucky said, not wanting to leave James behind and the latter, still holding his face, flinched before nodding his head.

"Oh, yeah, hey, come on over too." Ricky didn't remember this guy, but he simply nodded and beckoned him over as Lucky made room in the booth.

Samuel and Chores took the opportunity, quietly moving to the booth nearest to them, making space for the two new arrivals.

"Man, it's been what, eight years?" Ricky asked, eyeing Bucky, who nodded with a nostalgic smile.

"Almost nine." Bucky sheepishly chuckled, feeling incredibly awkward as the mobsters with cigars in their hands all gazed down at him.

"So what have you been up to, are you all squared away or?" Ricky asked, reaching into his coat about to pull out some money only for Bucky to shake his head.

"I'm doing good, I got an apprenticeship at a mechanic shop and an apartment that I rent with Steve," Bucky informed Ricky, rubbing the back of his neck at the later part of his sentence.

"Don't tell me wonderboy is still mad." Ricky laughed in nostalgia, a little surprised he remembered the nickname but Bucky ducked his head.

Sigh

"Yeah, he's still the old stubborn Steve," Bucky laughed, sharing a moment with Ricky before his attention shifted to James, who was visibly shrinking under the cold stares from Lucky and Meyer.

"Alright, Bucky, I made you promise all those years ago that if you ever needed something, you'd come to me. So, what can I do for you?" Ricky recalled, looking at his old friend while raising his cigar and with it, Bucky hesitated, glancing over at James before meeting his gaze once more.

"James, your turn," Bucky whispered, nudging him with his elbow and James coughed awkwardly, hesitating before finally speaking up.

"I-I work at the steel factory, Sheffield's Steel f-f-f-f-factory and I-I-I-I-" James literally couldn't even spit out the words, stuttering through the nonsense that stumbled out of his mouth.

"Kid, just spit it out," Lucky grumbled, rolling his eyes in impatience, eager for James to get to the point.

"Seriously, time is money, kid. Stop wasting it," Meyer warned, his tone sharp, as Ricky crossed his arms and nodded in agreement.

"Seriously man, if you have something to say, then f*cking say it." Ricky frowned, side-eyeing Bucky who forced a smile at his met gaze.

"T-The steel mill is closing!" James shouted, finally cutting to the chase and it made Ricky glance at Lucky, then back at James, his expression hardening as the weight of the words sank in.

"And?" Ricky asked, a hint of confusion in his tone as if this fact was obvious which Bucky quickly picked up on this. "You knew about this?" Bucky asked, his voice laced with surprise, as if he couldn't believe Ricky had kept such a thing hidden. The tension in the air broke as the others around them burst into laughter as even Chores started cackling from the side.

"Kid, we're in the business of knowing things," Lucky chuckled, wiping a tear from his eye as if the whole ordeal had been a poorly kept secret. "They're moving to Pittsburgh, right?" Lucky asked, glancing over at Meyer. Meyer took a moment to think it over before giving a slow nod while Ricky leaned on his hand, raising an eyebrow.

"Don't tell me you came here to tell us that, Bucky, please." Ricky sighed, clearly frustrated, as he leaned back in his chair. He glanced at Bucky, then back at James, who had shrunk into himself, with any bravado he might have had completely drained as he seemed like he could barely summon the courage to speak.

"Ricky, I know you don't owe us, or anyone, anything, but could you really just hear me out?" Bucky's voice carried a hint of desperation as he locked eyes with him as Ricky simply gestured to him, giving him the floor.

"Hit me with it."

"Buy the steel mills-"

SNORT

Lucky was the first to laugh, his snort echoing in the room with it making Ricky follow, his laughter booming, joined quickly by Meyer, whose face was turning red with how hard he was laughing. James, on the other hand, was visibly shrinking into himself, almost on the verge of tears as he shifted uncomfortably. Bucky, perplexed, ducked his head, his brows furrowed in confusion, unsure of what was so funny.

"Buy the Steffield-HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Lucky wanted to repeat his words, only to laugh out loud and interrupt himself.

This went on for a good, exhausting five minutes, the laughter echoing through the room, before Ricky finally wiped a tear from his eye and looked at Bucky with a smile.

"Listen Bucky, you don't know this but the Steffied family f*cking hates us, like really hates us." Ricky chuckled, explaining that although they were laughing at him, that it had more layers to it like some sort of onion.

"But looking past that, why would my household appliance company want a f*cking steel mill?" Ricky asked, trying not to laugh right in Bucky's face since the idea was absurd.

"Ricky, that mill supplies the jobs of over 20,000 people, they'll all lose their jobs and-"

SIGH

"And like I said, why would I buy it?" Ricky asked with a sigh, his gaze steady on Bucky, who was still struggling to find a reason that would make sense. "To save their jobs-"

"James, buddy, they get it." Bucky gently stopped him, seeing the desperation in James's eyes as he looked at Ricky before ducking his head.

"And?" Ricky continued, uttering one word and interrupting Bucky while looking around, feeling like some sort of cartoon villain.

"T-They are gonna close down the steel-"

"James, buddy, they get it." Bucky gently stopped him, seeing the desperation in James's eyes as he looked at Ricky before ducking his head.

"Listen, Bucky, is it?" Meyer leaned forward, and Ricky leaned back, already anticipating that the accountant was about to unload some chagrin.

"It's actually more cost-effective if Lucky Incorporated doesn't own a factory yet and instead outsources the manufacturing," Meyer explained, making it clear that buying the factory wasn't beneficial in the least.

"The biggest problem is that the Sheffield Steel mill, a mill that was built to produce steel, was not made to produce appliance parts-"

"But can't you just-"

"Kid, a steel mill's entire purpose is to produce steel, it is a completely different process and requires completely different factory machines than a production company would need," Meyer tried to explain to Bucky, who felt as if he was shrinking before him.

"The Sheffield Steel Mill is a sunk cost, something that would need to be entirely stripped down to its bare bones, which is the factory itself, offload and sell the machines, then buy all the required machines to produce the parts needed, and finally get a steady stream of materials to make those parts," Meyer's words towered over Bucky, who looked up at him as Ricky shook his head.

"Basically Bucky, he's saying that it's a waste of money-"

"Ricky, please." Bucky suddenly interrupted him, looking at him earnestly, knowing it was a lot of work, but the only person he believed could do anything about it was sitting right in front of him.

"I know it is shallow, coming here after not speaking for eight years and asking for something completely outrageous." Bucky voice shook, his hands gripping his pants as they shook slightly.

"But this 20,000 jobs, Ricky, half of Brooklyn works at that mill, and every single one of those workers lives in a borough here, please." Bucky was practically pleading, the desperation in his voice clear. He knew how much this could mean for all the blue-collar workers, like himself, who depended on that mill for their livelihood.

Sigh

Ricky sighed and looked at Lucky, who remained silent, his gaze fixed on him as if expecting Ricky to make the decision alone, without a single word of advice.

"How much is it?" Ricky asked, his voice steady, as everyone around him sighed, exchanging looks as if he was crazy for even considering it.

However, even if it was only for a short time, even if he didn't remember much of his time in the orphanage, there was one thing Ricky would never forget. He remembered the moment when he was beaten and left in an alley, how Bucky and Steve had carried him to the nearest hospital. Ricky never forgot that act of kindness, and no matter how much he tried to deny it, he owed Bucky but James, sitting next to him, ducked his head, because he wasn't owed jack sh*t.

But this wasn't just any steel mill; this was one of the largest in America and despite the recent job cuts during the Depression, which had reduced the workforce to 20,000, hiring was picking back up as the economy began to recover. Slowly but surely, America was healing from the scars of the Great Depression, and although the growth was modest at first, there was a sense of optimism returning to the country's industrial heart.

"They wanna offload it and scrap it for parts, so, maybe eight, maybe ten million-" Meyer gave a general outline, including the past relationship Ricky had with the Steffield family, knowing that it would have to be at least this much.

"Jesus." Lucky couldn't help but drop his jaw, his disbelief palpable. Frank immediately stepped up, his anger evident.

"Just say the word, boss, and they're gone." Frank's tone was sharp, his hands clenched, clearly furious that anyone had the audacity to ask for something so outrageous.

"Slick, the investment wouldn't be worth it as I've set up meetings with other factories for parts-" Meyer quickly tried to interject as Ricky crossed his arms, closing his eyes before looking back up at Bucky.

"I'll think about it, Bucky, I really will." Ricky stood up, cutting off Meyer mid-sentence, who looked as though he might tear his hair out in frustration.

It was such an outrageous sum, but there was a reason Ricky was actually confident, unlike his family, and that reason was Cardinal Sebastian.

Flashback To Chapter 124 "It concerns your inheritance, more specifically, what you are set to receive now that you've become the sole heir to the Black Knight family." Cardinal Sebastion notified Ricky, currently still in his trial state of mind.

"Oh cool, am I a little richer?" Ricky asked, already suspecting that he would get something for being the sole heir of the Percival family legacy.

"Ricky, the Bank Of The Vatican isn't as simple as that-" Cardinal Sebastion sighed heavily, explaining to Ricky since it was important.

What makes the Vatican so powerful and influential isn't merely the holy and religious power that resides within its depths, but its financial power. More specifically, the Vatican is its own separate country with its own distinct rules and also possesses its own private bank.

This was another instance of a butterfly flapping its wings due to the cause of Ricky's presence.

Originally, Pope Pius had established the Vatican Bank in 1942, but because of Dracula's continuous night raids and efforts to destroy him, the Vatican's financial situation had become perilous.

In 1933, the Church had shrunk to minuscule operations as when Mussolini acknowledged them as a country, he did so without recognizing the Papal States.

Furthermore, the Vatican was incurring annual losses of 100 million lire a year, and the Great Depression had caused its asset portfolio to shrink by 30%. However, Pope Pius's close aide, Bernardino Magaro, had convinced him not only to establish the bank but also to expedite the process.

It was why, with everything that happened, 1933-1934 was declared a holy year, allowing the Vatican to finally stabilize. But what made the Vatican Bank so influential, and its most valuable asset, stemmed from a few key factors.

The most important factor being that they had unprecedented financial freedom, meaning they didn't have to disclose much about the comings and goings of their finances. Furthermore, the Vatican State is completely immune to extradition and has the authority to dictate its own laws.

It was because of this that they could hide all of their income sources and how much they truly owned but more importantly, they could conceal the Black Knight's assets. Being the Black Knight not only allowed Ricky to inherit the Ebony Blade but also all the assets tied to it. However, the most valuable asset wasn't just the tangible wealth, it was the asset of association.

The value of the Black Knight's assets was akin to that of the church's holdings in real estate. Ricky actually owned four mansions in Scandinavia and two in Britain, but with only around a million in actual currency, except, not really. Since Ricky didn't have to divulge his accounts or disclose the extent of his wealth, he could literally pull ten gold bars out of nowhere and, as an honorary Bishop of the Vatican, claim they came from the bank. With his position and the Vatican's immunity, no one could question it, everyone would be forced to accept his word. The Vatican's financial flexibility allowed him to manipulate and maneuver assets in a way few could even imagine.

In short, the Vatican's financial power allows Ricky, as the Black Knight and an honorary Bishop, to operate with almost no oversight. He can claim ownership of massive assets, including real estate and wealth, all under the umbrella of the Vatican's finances. Because the Vatican's financial dealings are shrouded in secrecy, and Ricky's position grants him near-complete autonomy within their system, he has the ability to move mountains of wealth with little to no accountability.

But if this couldn't get any better, any juicer, as an honorary Bishop and part of the Vatican's financial structure, Ricky falls outside the typical taxation rules due to the Vatican's status as an independent state. The Vatican is not subject to the same taxes that other countries impose, and its financial dealings are not required to be disclosed publicly. To put it entirely bluntly, the church's financial activities are often shielded by its status and legal immunities, which means Ricky could exploit this system without the usual concerns about taxation.

That meant, in essence, the money Ricky has been collecting, including Rockefeller's, would effectively be cleaned through this system. So basically, Ricky has unknowingly stumbled upon an unlimited laundering machine that prints out big 'f*ck you's' to anyone who says otherwise.

"Are you f*cking kidding me?!" Ricky laughed out, gazing incredulously at Cardinal Sebastion who flinched at his words.

"Child, language." Cardinal Sebastion reprimanded him as he was surprised by his sudden vulgar words.

"I know what you might be thinking, but although I am against the notion of using it as a shield, the church is all but desperate for funds and we would like to ask you for donations." Cardinal Sebastion ducked his head in shame, having been forced to tell Ricky this since Pope Pius was intent on this being worded in this shameful way.

BAM

Suddenly, ten gold bars slapped onto the ground before Cardinal Sebastion who widened his eyes in shock.

"Ha, that Pope is something." Ricky knew exactly what Pope Pius wanted and simply gave him a little donation to show he would relent if he didn't ask where he got the funds.

"T-This-"

"It's something I got after expelling the mob families back in Sicily, take it to that Pope and Cardinal." Ricky waved at Cardinal Sebastion, clearly intent on exploiting this system to its fullest.

"Thank you." Ricky smiled warmly, radiating this bright expression towards Cardinal Sebastion who completely mistook this expression as him wanting to support the church.

"No child, thank you."

END OF FLASHBACK

"Let's set this aside for now and grab a drink, for old time's sake." Ricky stood up abruptly, turning to the others and about to give them a raincheck.

"I'll catch up with all of you later-"

"We get it already, go." Lucky waved him off, and Ricky laughed, slinging his arm around Bucky's shoulder.

"You too, James." Ricky yanked James's collar, the poor man still frozen in place as they walked out of Italiano's.

"Lucky, it's just not a good idea-"

"No, it could be an investment." Lucky pulled out a cigar, waving it in Meyer's direction as Chores peeked his head over the booth.

"May I contribute to this conversation?" Chores suddenly asked, Lucky and Meyer looking at him but shrugging and gesturing.

Chores stood up, towering over Frank, who flinched, momentarily forgetting just how imposing Chores really was before he settled back into the booth.

"I agree with Lucky, but I don't think it would be an investment in terms of monetary value," Chores explained, offering his perspective as Lucky raised an eyebrow, intrigued by his take.

"I don't understand, it's a sunk cost-" Meyer, thinking of it more from a money sort of view, couldn't see where Chores was going with this.

"But it's about loyalty." Chores interrupted, his opinion catching Meyer off guard and Lucky's interest.

"I know that inside this bubble, everyone really goes along with the Luciano family, but the impressions on the outskirts of Brooklyn and other boroughs are very low," Chores continued, his voice carrying the weight of reality that others often ignored.

"The extermination of the other families not only let the Luciano family gain enormous reign over the people, but it caused unease and fear," Chores explained, simply telling him his observations with a detached calmness.

"I understand that fear is necessary in this line of work, but outside of Harlem and the inner regions of Brooklyn, everyone loathes Slick." Chores continued, his tone steady and serious as he looked around the room.

"I see it first hand in Staten Island, the discourse that makes many residents unsettled." Chores revealed, causing Frank to scrunch his brow at someone daring to hate Ricky behind his back.

"Franky, what the guy is saying is that it forms a sense of loyalty that will build across the working class, the blue-collar workers and in that sense, their families and everyone around them." Lucky said, puffing out a stream of smoke from his cigar as he glanced at Chores.

"But how is a factory gonna help people like him, we're mobsters, they don't have to like us but they better respect us-" Frank asked, unable to really see that big picture but this was where Lucky chimed in.

"Franky, what the guy is saying is that it forms a sense of loyalty that will build across the working class, the blue-collar workers and in that sense, their families and everyone around them." Lucky said, puffing out a stream of smoke from his cigar as he glanced at Chores.

"I understand that it would be an enormous investment, but having 20,000 people feel like they owe Slick might be worth it in the future," Chores finished explaining. Lucky looked at the door Ricky had left through before leaning back, deep in thought.

"Well, that's something the boss needs to decide."

Meanwhile At A Bar,

"Ah~" Ricky let out a refreshed sigh, setting down his mug filled with beer and looking at Bucky, who was wiping his mouth.

"Enough of the money talk, tell me what you've been up to, how you've been?" Ricky nudged Bucky, drawing a chuckle from his old friend.

"Well, nothing much but after you left I just sort of-"

Bucky continued, recounting the events that followed his departure as he and Steve had grown up with a relatively normal childhood, the kind that didn't stand out in the grand scheme of things. But where Steve had shown a certain aptitude for academics, Bucky had always been the type to lose himself in the physical world, more comfortable working with his hands than his mind and school had never really been his thing to begin with.

Steve, on the other hand, had always been more thoughtful, and it was during those formative years that a certain teacher, Edna Crosley, had played a pivotal role in shaping him. Bucky described how Crosley's influence had awakened something in Steve, a sense of responsibility and a desire to protect those around him, making him more of a patriot.

The changes in Steve weren't immediately noticeable to most, but Bucky could see the subtle shift in him. He noticed how much that teacher, Edna Crosley, had impacted Steve, even if it was hard for him to admit it. It wasn't just the lessons in the classroom, but the way Steve seemed to carry a new sense of purpose, a quiet strength that Bucky recognized but didn't fully understand at the time.

After high school, their paths had naturally diverged and Bucky, true to his nature, became an apprentice mechanic, reveling in the satisfaction of fixing and repairing cars. It was hands-on work, and it suited him perfectly as he really loved the challenge of bringing machines back to life, feeling at home in the grease and oil, where he could see immediate results from his effort.

Steve, on the other hand, took a more traditional route as he worked part-time at a local soda shop to help pay his way through college. He wasn't one for mechanics or manual labor like Bucky, but he was dedicated to his studies, warning to join the government or become a police officer.

"I'm just learning the ropes, but I want to open my own shop one day," Bucky said with a chuckle, not fully believing in the dream himself as he felt it paled in comparison to Ricky's world, but he just smiled, unbothered by the disparity.

"Can I get a friend's discount?" Ricky teased, nudging Bucky with a grin and the latter chuckled, shaking his head.

"Just for you, Ricky, I'll make you pay 15% more," Bucky joked, and they both laughed, the sound fading as they turned their attention forward.

The silence settled in, and Bucky held his mug of beer, his fingers wrapping around the cool glass as he paused, staring into the amber liquid before finally opening his mouth to speak.

"Ricky, Listen, I'm sorry I never came to see-"

"Bucky, come on, don't be like that." Ricky scoffed, pushing Bucky in a playful way to make him stop, looking at the bar mirror at the side and seeing a clear look of guilt on his face. Unlike Steve or Ricky, two polar opposites with clear views, goals, and dreams, Bucky simply wanted to enjoy the things around him.

He didn't want to be rich or become the strongest, hell, he didn't even want to be the best mechanic.

Bucky simply wanted to live a good fulfilling life and have the people around him enjoy it to the fullest, he wanted to enjoy life.

However unlike Ricky who was adopted into a household with a good strong family and a father who guided him, Bucky and Steve remained unadopted.

It was why Bucky never took Ricky's offer, because Steve didn't have anyone and Bucky wanted to be there for him.

But Ricky never blamed or resented him for staying behind since at the end of the day, Bucky was his own person who made his own decisions and he had learned to respect that.

"I know why you didn't come and I get it, from your view my actions look very scummy." Ricky sighed, setting the mug of beer down and looking forward as Bucky ducked his head.

"But I'm not gonna hate you cause you think in a different way, because who cares." Ricky joked, looking forward since this was what he honestly believed.

There were way too many philosophies and beliefs in the world to care about a single one and Ricky, he was the type to go with the flow.

It was cut and dry to him; if it made sense to him, then it made sense and if it didn't, then it didn't.

Ricky couldn't care less what other people thought as long as they didn't try to force their beliefs onto him or get in his way, then it might get a little physical.

"Listen Bucky, believe it or not but everyone usually doesn't like me." Ricky turned to Bucky, receiving a light chuckle from him.

"I know, hard to believe since I look like every other lovable schmuck, but people really hate me," Ricky continued, shaking his head as if it was actually hard to believe.

"But just cause they don't like me doesn't mean I'm gonna come after them and their families, I'm not some psycho." Ricky shrugged, knowing that if he went after everyone who disliked him then everyone in New York might cease to exist.

"I move down my line just like any other guy. My only problem is when people get in my way." Ricky held out his hand, drawing a line onto the bar counter with some peanut shells.

"Even when people try to shame me or push their beliefs onto me, I couldn't give a single f*ck unless they step on my line." Ricky then pointed onto the faint line, pressing onto it as if showing Bucky first hand.

"But no offense, Bucky, even if you wanted to, you couldn't step on that line. So, you shouldn't feel like I'd hate you or something." Ricky waved his hand, dismissing the idea that he was even a threat to him.

Ricky looked at Bucky, and he saw was a high school graduate, an apprentice mechanic, while Ricky was the head of the Luciano family, a world far beyond the one Bucky inhabited.

"Well, when you put it like that, I guess I feel a whole lot better," Bucky rolled his eyes, his tone playful and Ricky laughed, nudging him in return.

"Anyways-ah!" Bucky was about to say something else, only to recoil in surprise at a bird flying past him and landing on the counter.

"We have arrived!" Alexander proclaimed, holding up his fury paw as Ricky raised an eyebrow.

"What are you guys doing here?" Ricky asked, knowing he didn't call for them as Chester fiddled with the translation ring on his claw.

"Did Chores not tell you, I am the new CLO (Chief Legal Officer) of Lucky Incorporated." Chester started talking and his words made Bucky freeze, almost pale as his finger pointed at the crow talking in front of him.

"T-That bird is talking!" Bucky stuttered, his eyes widening as Chester side-eyed him.

"I have a name, human." Chester turned to Bucky, holding out his wing towards the fearful human since this was common for him.

"I am Chester, nice to meet you." Chester, leaving so much out of his introduction, introduced himself to Bucky who looked at Ricky who gestured him towards the wing.

"Don't be a dick, shake his wing." Ricky, completely enjoying the scene, urged him on as Bucky weirdly shook Chester's wing.

"But wait, does that mean-"

"Yes, I have passed the New York State bar." Chester already anticipated, finishing Ricky's words as he scrunched his brows.

"How in the hell did you manage that?" Ricky almost had to ask, finding it hard to believe they would let Chester take the bar.

"Lucky has formed an identity for me and so to the bar association, I am Chester Crowsworth, age 38, and a white male." Chester revealed his concocted identity as Ricky side-eyed Alexander who shook his head.

"I have already voiced my complaints, but my friend here is determined on that poor last name-"

"It is not 'poor' it signifies what I am and brings recognition to my species." Chest said, voicing how much he actually liked this name.

"Well whatever, congratulations Chester Crowsworth." Ricky obviously poked fun at Chester who raised his head in a dignified way.

"Thank you." Chester then flapped away, clearly knowing it was a joke but wouldn't give Ricky the satisfaction of showing a reaction.

"What about you?" Ricky looked at Alexander, already munching on a peanut and shrugged.

"I am not one for a tedious job, I do not need to prove myself, I am Alexander The Great." Alexander boldly proclaimed, already proving himself in history and having no such desire to make another name for himself.

"You wanna get drunk with me?" Ricky asked, seeing Alexander nod his head while munching on a peanut.

"I am inclined to accept." Alexander then stood up, looking at Bucky simply staring at the gerbil.

"May I?" Alexander asked, holding out his fury paw and Ricky, side-eyeing Bucky, took off his translation ring and handed it to the gerbil.

Popping it around his body like some sort of belt, he stood before Bucky and puffed out his chest.

"I am Alexander the Great, from the banks of the Aegean to the distant lands of India, my name has been whispered in awe and fear. I have defeated armies twice my size, shattered the power of the Persian Empire, and built an empire that spans from the Mediterranean to the farthest reaches of Asia. With the strength of my will and the sharpness of my sword, I have rewritten history, and it is with all of this, that it is nice to meet you." Alexander almost had to make it a grand spectacle, Ricky simply drinking his beer while Bucky watched incredulously through it all.

"I-I'm Bucky, a mechanic." Bucky stuck to a short greeting, looking at Alexander holding out his paw for a hand shake as he stuck out his finger, shaking the tiny paw slightly.

"It is nice to meet you, Bucky The Mechanic." Alexander smiled, looking at his disciples' old friend he had heard in passing.

"I-"

BAM

"DAMMIT!" A man shouted, bursting open the door of the bar as a shuttle of blue-collar workers all shuffled in.

It wasn't unusual for these workers to come to their favorite bars after a hard day of work, it was just that they came at the end of the day rather than the middle of it.

"Dad?" James, who was meekly sitting next to Ricky and trying to just go with this weird flow, turned back to see his father amidst this shuttle of workers.

"James, what-where the hell were you!" Herold marched over to his unruly son, the very same one that had been acting weird as of late.

"You damned brat, you not only missed a day of pay but the news that the-"

Gulp

Herold furiously tried to lecture his son until Ricky swiveled around in his bar stool, holding his mug of beer and curiously observing the exchange.

"M-Mr. Luciano." Herold immediately bowed his head, knowing exactly who this man was since for a while, you couldn't go an entire day without seeing his smug smile in the paper.

The other blue-collared workers, all furious at the news that hit them today, all suddenly tucked their tails in the face of Ricky.

"Just call me Slick, my pops is the real Mr. Luciano." Ricky chuckled, placing his mug of beer over the counter and refilling it himself while the bartender felt a little out of place.

"Did my boy cause you any trouble because I know he's a little rough around the edges but please-"

"Nah, it ain't like that." Ricky shook his head, revealing the mug all the way until the foam was puffing up before turning around.

"I used to play ball with James a while back, we ran into each other along with my buddy here Bucky, and now we're just catching up." Ricky waved his hand, dissuading any misunderstandings right here as Herold slowly nodded.

"But I'm guessing you guys heard about the mill?" Ricky asked, sipping on the mug as the workers who showed gazes of despair.

"They just said it outta nowhere, blabbing on about how this was for the good of the company, but what about us, what about the guys who risk their lives for their profit!" One of the workers got really emotional, almost screaming in anguish while his buddies patted his back.

"I-I'm sorry-" The worker immediately reprimanded himself but Ricky shook his head, stopping him there.

"Y'know what, aye bartender, they drink for free, put it on my tab." Ricky side-eyed the bartender who immediately nodded, the workers all surprised at this sudden announcement.

"Aye, you didn't do anything wrong so don't apologize, to no one." Ricky raised his mug to him, receiving a nod from the disparaging worker.

"Y'know what, aye bartender, they drink for free, put it on my tab." Ricky side-eyed the bartender who immediately nodded, the workers all surprised at this sudden announcement.

"Oh Slick, you don't have to-" Herold immediately held his hat tightly, trying to stop Ricky but he shrugged.

"You guys got enough on your plate and it's cause of guys like you that I'm where I am, so just take the beer and bar snacks." Ricky honestly said, knowing that mobsters all profited off the backs of honest hardworking schmucks.

"Least I can do." Ricky turned back to the bartender, who immediately understood and started grabbing the mugs of beer.

"Thanks, Slick, the guys really need this." Herald knew more than anyone how tight money was at this time and even the change of a few drinks was a lot to people like them.

It was awkward at first, considering the man who had forced them all to lock themselves away not long ago and caused such a disruptive turf war was now sitting in the same bar as them.

But once the alcohol began to flow, even the worst of enemies started to lighten up, as the atmosphere shifted into a bumbling buzz of cheerfulness.

At first, it was just James and Bucky around Ricky, but as if he had some sort of gravitational pull, the more he talked and laughed, the more it drew in the eyes, ears, and eventually the bodies of the other workers. Before long, Ricky found himself surrounded at the bar, the center of attention.

"So this horse walks into a bar and the bartender asks 'why the long face?' and the horse replies 'because I'm an alcoholic and it's destroying my family'" Ricky laughed through the joke and at this point, these drunken workers would laugh at anything.

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Everyone bellowed out an entire avalanche of laughter, breaking down in tears as Bucky, almost sh*t faced, slammed his face on the table.

"Alright, alright!" Ricky suddenly stood up, holding up his hands while hopping onto the bar counter and grabbing the beer nozzle.

"WHO WANTS TO SEE ME DRINK THIS BAR DRY!" Ricky yelled, hearing the cheers of the workers before placing his mouth under the beer nozzle and turning it on.

GULP

"CHUG!"

GULP

"CHUG!"

GULP

"CHUG!"

GULP

Ricky had an incredibly high tolerance compared to these average joes, not even feeling buzzed by the handful of beers he downed.

 So as he drained the barrels of this german luger dry, the bartender was left scrambling to replace the booze until Ricky manifest destined his words.

BURP

"FCK YEAH, FCK YEAH!" Ricky, after completely drinking the beer behind the counter, celebrated this fact while the other workers cheered.

"BARTENDER, MORE BEER!" Ricky yelled, Alexander wobbling from the side while holding up his paw.

"HAZZAY!" Alexander bellowed, his presence not even shocking the others as they all were just going with the flow at this point.

"I-I'm sorry Slick, but you've cleaned us out-"

"THEN ON TO THE NEXT, LET US WINE AND DINE ON MY DIME!" Ricky, really feeling the effects of that German luger, was starting to talk in a medieval sort of way that he always did whenever he drank this type of alcohol.

Clearing out of the bar and wobbling after Ricky, the blue-collar workers along with Bucky all started to follow in the impromptu beer crawl.

It was around only two dozen at first, Ricky leading the pack of incredibly drunk men as they drifted over to the nearest bar until they were soon met with the same scene.

Factory workers all down on their luck and simply trying to find any sort of escape were met with the arrival of Ricky.

Soon, that two dozen grew as Ricky's boisterous proclamation of paying for the bar tab continued onto this bar, then the next.

It was then that the bar crawl was truly born. At first, it was a few hesitant workers, glancing at each other before joining in, lured by the promise of free beer and the opportunity to forget, even if just for a few hours, the disappointing reality that weighed on their shoulders. As Ricky's laughter grew louder and his charm grew stronger, more and more followed his lead, each one gravitating toward him like moths to a flame.

The atmosphere shifted as more bodies crowded around the bar, the clink of bottles and the murmur of conversation filling the air. It was no longer just a casual drink among friends; it was a way out, an escape, a rebellion against the world outside. Ricky, always the life of the party, led the charge, his words slurring with each drink, the laughter flowing as easily as the alcohol.

As the night wore on, the workers lost their inhibitions, one by one and they stopped caring about the looming debts, the hours of labor, the uncertainty of their futures. It was a blur of half-formed jokes, spilled drinks, and reckless abandon while Ricky had become this weird sort of symbol of defiance, not just in the power he wielded but in his ability to push aside everything that weighed them down, if only for a fleeting moment.

The bar crawl turned into something much more than a night of drinking; it was a fleeting reprieve, a chance for these hard working men to feel alive again without having to worry about anything, if only for a few hours. And Ricky, already lost in his own drunken haze, slowly reveled in that fact as it was starting to get to his knightly head, with every drink inducing a reckless decision.

Then, after being at what seemed like the hundredth bar, the entire place was crowded as the workers stretched all the way onto the streets.

Ricky had lost count of how many people's tab he was paying for but at this point, he was so rich that he just didn't care.

What was the point of having fck you money if you never say fck you?

That was his drunken motto that he used to convince himself of anything that might bring him anxiety.

"EVERYONE, HEED MY WORDS FOR THOU MUST SPEAK!" Ricky roared, holding up his mug of beer as a drunken Bucky sort of wobbled in from the side, almost entirely sh*t faced.

"HEED THEM!" Alexander yelled, his voice booming as he encouraged Ricky's words, though his gaze was fixed on the wall, more specifically, a picture on the wall as the drunken hamster was more gone than anyone else in the room

The workers, their spirits battered by the news of the mill closing, couldn't help but be swept up in the energy of the bar crawl. What started as a casual distraction had quickly grown into something near legendary, a feat of indulgence funded by Ricky's endless flow of cash. His generosity seemingly felt as if it stretched across the entire laid off workforce, and in return, they clung to him with admiration and gratitude, following his lead as he led them through each round of drinks.

Ricky, holding up a massive jug of beer with a grin plastered on his face, was the center of their attention. His laugh echoed through the room, infectious and full of life and Bucky, ever the responsible one, even his drunken state, was trying his best to pull Ricky down from his self-appointed pedestal, but it was no use.

Ricky was too far gone, too caught up in the chaos to be reined in as the workers looked on, their focus unwavering, as Ricky continued to hold court, an unlikely king in the midst of their collective misery.

"I HAVE RECEIVED MANY COMPLAINTS AS YOUR PATRON, ABOUT HOW YOUR WORK IS BEING DULLED BY GREED AND BY THOSE SCUMMY PROFITEERS WHO THINK OF THEMSELVES AS LORDY!" Ricky's words were weird, medieval almost, but the men were all too drunk to care as they all gathered around him while nodding their heads.

"AND YOU MUST KNOW OF ME, RICKY LUCIANO, SON OF LUCKY LUCIANO!" Ricky proclaimed, his weird words immediately making Bucky's stomach feel queasy.

"Ricky get down-"

"IT IS BECAUSE OF THESE CREDENTIALS, THESE TITLES, AND THE WEALTH OF MY NAME THAT I PROCLAIM TO YOU NOT AS YOUR PATRON, BUT YOUR SAVIOR!" Ricky was a couple weeks sober on reckless decisions, but right here and now, he was about to relapse.

"RICK-" Bucky immediately yelled, knowing that a responsible friend would stop what he was about to do even if he actually wanted him to say it.

But even if he wanted Ricky to buy the mill, to have his next words hopefully confirm, he was the type of friend to put others interests over his which is why he was trying to pull Ricky off the counter.

It was just that his strength paled in comparison to Ricky who didn't even notice the tugging of his clothes.

"I SHALL BUY THE STEEL MILL UNDER LUCKY INCORPORATED BUT NOT ONLY THAT, VOW SOMETHING TO THE DEPTHS OF MY CORE!" Ricky held his heart, completely unaware of what reason and common sense was at this moment, since all he cared about was hearing the roar of applause, just for him, only for him.

"I VOW TO EMPLOY 50,000 WORKERS!" Ricky roared, his voice booming through the haze of drunken laughter and the heavy scent of beer. His words were nothing more than a blur of wild ambition and chaotic confidence, but in that moment, they felt like a declaration from a man who believed he could conquer the world. His ravings, filled with this sort of raw energy, ignited a fire in the hearts of the workers around him.

Cheers erupted from the crowd, their spirits lifted by the absurdity of it all as in that dimly lit bar, surrounded by the remnants of their shattered reality, they clung to the possibility that someone, anyone, could offer them a lifeline, they now unknowingly clung to Ricky.

"RICKY!"

"RICKY!"

"RICKY!"

Ricky's face was alight with drunken excitement, his arms spread wide as if he were embracing the mass congregation of drunken men who were chanting his name with fervor. The cheers swirled around him, echoing off the bar's walls, a cacophony of admiration fueled by his wild proclamations. Each cheer felt like a personal triumph to Ricky, as though he was a king being crowned by the very people he had helped to lift, however fleetingly.

Bucky, on the other hand, was pale, his brow furrowed in disbelief as he watched the madness unfold before him. James and his father stood frozen to the side, their faces a mix of shock and confusion, not sure whether to laugh or intervene.

But then, amidst the madness, Alexander, grinning like a proud beast, raised his mighty paw into the air, joining the celebration with a roar that almost drowned out the cheers. But it was the actions of that wild night that would go on to become legendary. What started as an absurdly drunken vow in a run-down bar would spawn a festival in New York that commemorated not only the outrageous decree but the extraordinary beer crawl that had led to it. Dubbed 'Beer Fest,' it would become a yearly tradition, celebrating the moment, the camaraderie, and the unpredictable power of Ricky Luciano, a man who, in his drunken folly, had brought the impossible to life.

"HAZZAY!"