Costa sipped his tea slowly, not immediately expressing his stance. Having been in Marseille for forty years, rising from a dock thief to a gang leader, he had weathered countless storms. He sensed danger, but also a tremendous opportunity.

"Where’s the goods?" Costa asked.

"The first batch of five tons has already landed. It’s in Sicily, very safe," Scorpion said. "As long as you nod, it can be transported to Marseille within a week via the ’old channel.’ Subsequent shipments will be steadily supplied based on sales. Payment terms are flexible: cash, cryptocurrency, and even barter (for example, with the arms or European luxury goods you have) are all acceptable."

"What about the risks?" Costa stared at him. "Such a large volume—customs, police, competitors... and you. How do I know you’re not a police decoy or will run after one big hit?"

Scorpion took a small sealed bag from his jacket, containing a little white powder, and pushed it in front of Costa: "A sample. You can have the best chemist test it. As for us..." He showed a set of yellow teeth. "Heard about Mamadou’s business in West Africa? We are not Mamadou. We are smarter and more ruthless. Police? We’ve killed more cops in Africa than the entire city of Marseille has. Competitors?" He glanced at Samir, "With our goods and prices, they either cooperate or disappear."

Samir’s face looked unpleasant, but a trace of greed flashed in his eyes. A source of low-cost, high-purity goods is every drug trafficker’s dream.

Costa dabbed a little powder with his finger, smelled it under his nose, and then touched it very lightly with his tongue. He closed his eyes, opened them a few seconds later, a sharp gleam in them.

"The purity is very high. Indeed, better than the current goods." He admitted, "But rules cannot be broken. Marseille has its own rules. You want to come in, you can. But you must go through us. Retail prices can’t be messed with; we can’t trigger large-scale street wars that attract a police crackdown. In terms of profit-sharing, we need a large share because the channels and risks are ours."

Scorpion had long anticipated such a negotiation: "Deal. The specific ratio can be discussed. But we have one condition."

"Speak."

"We need a secure processing and packaging site. Preferably in the port area, to facilitate the movement of goods. Also, we need a batch of ’clean’ vehicles and identity documents. Money is on us."

Costa pondered for a moment. Providing a venue and cover meant deeper entanglement, with greater risk. But the profit from twenty tons of quality drugs... was enough for him to buy a small island in the Caribbean Sea for retirement.

"Warehouse 17 at the port, abandoned for a long time but with complete utilities and underground space. I can ’rent’ it to you. Vehicles and documents... will take time, and aren’t cheap."

"Money is not an issue," Scorpion said straightforwardly.

The deal was sealed in the shadows. The underground order of Marseille would undergo dramatic changes due to this batch of ’Black Pearls’ from Africa. The old balance between Corsican gangs and North African groups might be broken, and a bloodier struggle could be on the horizon. But for now, amidst the scent of mint tea, there was only a desire for wealth and a tacit understanding of conspiracy.

After Scorpion left, Samir asked worriedly, "Godfather, can these Africans be trusted? They’re too ruthless."

Costa gazed out at the twinkling lights of Marseille Port and said slowly, "Samir, in this business, there’s no trust, only mutual need. They need our channel, we need their goods. As for ruthlessness... when has Marseille ever lacked ruthless people? Control is what’s important. The goods are in our hands, the channels are in our hands; no matter how ruthless they are, they’re just dogs earning money for us. If a dog ever wants to bite its master..." A cold light flashed in his eyes, "Then we get a new dog. Africa has no shortage of desperados wanting to make a name for themselves."

Germany, Berlin, Federal Criminal Police Office (BKA) Headquarters.

Eric Wagner, the head of the Intelligence Analysis Division, stared at the complex network diagram on his computer screen, frowning. The diagram showed "Black Pearl" drug cases seized across various locations in Europe over the past month, with scattered locations from Italy to the Netherlands, from Spain to Poland. But strangely, these cases seemed to have no obvious organizational connection, more like spontaneous, scattered infiltration.

However, Wagner’s intuition told him something was off. The seized "Black Pearl" drugs had very high purity and highly consistent chemical characteristics, clearly originating from one or several highly specialized production sources. Such consistency is almost impossible in scattered, unorganized smuggling.

"Doctor, new data from Interpol just came in." His assistant handed over a document, "In the past 72 hours, Greek police intercepted 200 kilograms of ’Black Pearl’ in a truck near the Turkish border. The driver was a Bulgarian, claiming not to know the content of the cargo. Italian police found 500 kilograms in the interlayer of a container at Genoa Port, destined for Rotterdam. Over in France Marseille... there’s no official report, but sources suggest there might be a larger batch of new goods entering the local market, with abnormal pricing."

"Pricing?" Wagner caught the key point.

"Retail prices haven’t changed notably, but wholesale prices... it’s said there’s a source offering quotes 30% below the market price, with higher purity. It has already caused tension among some traditional suppliers."

Low price, high purity, multi-point infiltration... Wagner’s mental alarms went off. This wasn’t an ordinary escalation of drug smuggling; it was a premeditated dumping war aimed at quickly capturing the European market! The goal was to use price and quality advantages to quickly crush or absorb existing distribution networks and establish new monopoly channels.