He could do something even their leader couldn't. And after obtaining the arm, including its fingerprints and DNA, everything could be analyzed clearly. To completely control Passione, the Boss's fingerprints were essential.
"Besides that, even if you knew the Boss's true identity, you wouldn't be able to track him accurately."
"Indeed," Melone licked his lips, looking at Trish's slender calves. "If we have Trish, we can track him indefinitely."
Prosciutto pondered for a moment, recalling what Johnson had said. At the same time, they desperately needed Giorno to save their leader.
"Then let's speak plainly," Prosciutto said. "In the matter of killing the Boss, we all need to contribute, and clearly, your team is much weaker than ours."
"However," Prosciutto showed a condescending expression, "afterward, the Naples capo will be you."
"Why?!" Ghiaccio shouted at Prosciutto. "That place is practically overflowing with money, you know!"
"Shut up, Ghiaccio!" Prosciutto cursed, then looked at Bucciarati. "Well?"
Bucciarati's heart stirred. This was far better than he had imagined. Prosciutto wasn't some great benevolent person. For him to say such a thing, it might be that he had a favor to ask of them, and was afraid they would turn hostile when he revealed it.
Generally speaking, agreeing directly would be better, just like haggling. The seller offers a lower price and acts as if he's pained, but in reality, he's still making a lot of profit.
At this point, a smart buyer would continue to haggle.
Negotiations between men can also be compared to women bartering over vegetables.
However, the seller hides flaws, and the buyer hides desires.
"Not only that," Bucciarati knew he had to push for more, and that wasn't what he truly wanted.
Prosciutto was somewhat displeased.
"Let me make this clear, Bucciarati, you are the one coming to us."
"No, it's not like that. I can choose not to become a cadre of the southern Naples region."
As soon as he spoke, it drew confusion from the Assassination Team. Ghiaccio, for once, actually used his brain. Of course, even becoming a cadre in Naples wouldn't make money as quickly as narcotics.
This kid only wants the money from narcotics. He was about to speak when Prosciutto glared at him.
"In fact, if I only wanted to become a cadre in the south, I would have directly followed the Boss, because the Boss promised to make me a cadre in the south."
"Then what exactly do you want?"
What exactly do I want? This question was etched in Bucciarati's heart. He suddenly remembered his father, whose gentle smile brought a wave of longing.
"I want to ban drug trafficking throughout Italy."
"..."
"Are you out of your mind?" Ghiaccio suddenly stood up, wanting to punch Bucciarati. If you don't want to make money yourself, do you want to cut off everyone else's livelihood?
"Ghiaccio!"
Prosciutto's scolding made him temporarily withdraw his hand, looking as if he was ready to devour Bucciarati at any moment.
It seemed Johnson Joffrey was indeed an excellent judge of character, having fully recognized that Bucciarati was truly a man full of justice.
But what can you do? A guy like this still wants to be a gangster; he's practically a disgrace to the mafia.
"This is a big matter. I need to ask my superiors."
Bucciarati nodded.
As Prosciutto pulled out his phone, he noticed that Johnson Joffrey had already sent a message.
"[If Bucciarati says he wants to ban drug trafficking, you tell him you are willing to ban drug trafficking for minors and give him the authority to control this matter. Since he wants to be a narcotics officer so badly, let him.]"
After reading it, Prosciutto expressionlessly put his phone back in his pocket and said, "I'll be straightforward. We can only ban drug trafficking for minors, nothing more."
"You have to consider that adults are responsible for themselves."
Bucciarati pondered for a moment, then said, "Alright."
"Then my conditions are to become an executive in charge of Southern resident affairs and to prohibit the sale of drugs to minors."
"No," Prosciutto flatly refused. "My Boss only wants you to be the person in charge of prohibiting drug transactions to minors throughout all of Italy."
"After all, you're the one who wants to prohibit it, so you should be the one to do it." This thankless task, "Someone else will be in charge of the South."
"Then at least let me manage Naples, it's my hometown."
"Let me ask my Boss."
After relaying the message, Prosciutto closed his eyes, patiently waiting for a reply. A thick tension permeated the air. The sun had already risen high in the sky, making it hard to open one's eyes due to its brightness.
The phone vibrated slightly, and everyone's gaze focused on it. Finally, Prosciutto said,
"Alright."
A barely audible sigh of relief was heard in the air.
"Bucciarati," Prosciutto said loudly, "We are partners now." Then he pushed away Bucciarati's outstretched hand for a shake and grabbed his shoulder instead.
Then the members of the Assassination Team and Bucciarati's Team shook hands one after another. When it was Formaggio and Narancia's turn, Formaggio sneered,
"Hmph, where's your old hag? She didn't die, did she? Or did she turn into a coward?"
"Fugo is not a coward!" Narancia forcefully squeezed Formaggio's hand like a child.
"Bucciarati," Mista walked up to Bucciarati, a lollipop in his mouth, and said, "I never regret my choice."
Bucciarati looked at him, then at the wound on his shoulder, and wondered to himself, Johnson Joffrey can help the injured, so why is Risotto still unable to get up due to severe injuries? Did he break his leg?
"Mista, I don't regret choosing you either," Bucciarati said with a gentle smile, "You are a true gangster. My judgment is never wrong."
Melone walked up to Trish, placed his finger on his chin, bent down to scrutinize her, licked his lips, and said, "Is your physical condition healthy?"
"Huh?"
"What do you think of Johnson Joffrey?"
"What did you say?!" Trish took half a step back, looking at him with some disgust.
"My meaning is simple, do you like him or dislike him?"
"Alright," Prosciutto said, "The introductions are over. Bucciarati, I'll take you to see our Captain. I think you've already guessed, he's a bit injured. As partners, I think you should do something for him."
Just as I thought, Bucciarati thought to himself, but since the deal is done, there's no more room for negotiation. But what does he want to do this time?
"We want to borrow Giorno Giovanna's power."