《Empire of Shadows》 Chapter 1: The Summer Breeze Chapter 1: The Summer Breeze Jingang City, also known as the "City of Angels." The world''s thirdrgest port and the top in daily throughput in the Northern Hemisphere, this city has earned countless praises! It¡¯s like a blessing sent from above, basking in divine glory, everything seemingly perfect¡­ Yeah, right. While the Federation¡¯s citizens like to call it the City of Angels, to others, this ce looks no different from hell. Take Lance, for example. That¡¯s exactly how he feels right now. The City of Angels is dangerous. Almost every day, there are several, if not dozens, of shootings in this city.When gang wars break out, sometimes they need trucks just to carry away the bodies. With the rapid economic growth, the city has also attracted an influx of criminals and crime syndicates. Corrupt officials, bought by money and bribes, look down on the city from above. They only care about how much their bank ounts increase each month¡ªnot whether the people at the bottom starve or get into trouble. All anyone seems to care about is the city''s non-stop economic miracles. Few care to know who is struggling for survival behind the morous facade. They don¡¯t want to know, and they won¡¯t let anyone else find out. After all, this is the City of Angels, the economic engine of the Federation! Lance looked absentmindedly at the girls on the street, feeling momentarily lost. It was like an old-time warmth drifted through, covering everything in a natural, vintage filter. The whole world seemed to have taken on a sepia tone, with spots here and there where overexposure had left blemishes. The scratchy sound from an old record yer came through a speaker, adding to the nostalgic atmosphere. The summer sunlight warmed the city¡ªand ignited the hearts of its young women. Two young girls in sleeveless tops and short skirts walked past a bakery, their lively, joyful smiles momentarily brightening this old, photograph-like city. ¡°Smack!¡± A sharp p brought Lance back to reality. The bakery owner was standing behind him, ring angrily. ¡°I hired you to work, not to lean on the counter gawking at girls!¡± The p was loud and forceful. ¡°Get moving, get moving, youzy maggot who¡¯s practically rotting. Don¡¯t let me catch you cking off again¡ªI¡¯m paying you, damn it!¡± ????£Â?? Lance scratched his head and picked up a rag to start wiping the disy window. Business was slow today. Bakeries like this, away from bustling streets and the city center, were like the mom-and-pop dumpling shops in other neighborhoods. Their business relied mainly on regrs from nearby apartments, with the busiest times before 9:30 in the morning and after work in the evening. During other hours, hardly anyone came in. The bakery owner was the typical small-time capitalist, pressing down on himself while exploiting his workers¡ªand trying to control them, too. Besides Lance, there was an apprentice in the bakery who didn¡¯t get paid a penny each month and even had to pay the owner ten bucks as a ¡°tuition fee¡± to learn the trade. The apprentice had been there for over six months and, so far, all he¡¯d learned was kneading dough. The bakery owner was obese, likely weighing around 230 to 240 pounds, and was a highly skilled baker. The local residents were loyal customers, especially fond of the bakery¡¯s main product¡ªa dense whole-wheat bread that filled them up for longer and kept hunger at bay. Lance had caught him sneakily adding extra bran into the bread to make it drier, harder, denser¡ªand more popr among the poor. For those struggling financially, filling their stomachs was the priority. He didn¡¯t care much for the owner, whose sharp tongue and stinginess grated on him.n/?/vel/b//jn dot c//om Lance earned fifteen bucks a month, whereas the average wage in the City of Angels was around sixty. They¡¯d even added a subject called ¡°Statistics¡± in universities just to keep track of this average. Most workers actually only earned forty-five to fifty a month. Lance¡¯s pay was barely a third of the standard. He didn¡¯t want to do all this never-ending work for so little pay, either. But he had no choice¡ªhe was undocumented. Somehow, he¡¯d ended up on a ship that docked here. ording to the people onboard, they¡¯d all paid handsomely to be smuggled into the Federation. Despite all the talk of automation, the Federation¡¯s rapid growth still demandedbor, and factories often had people working alongside oxen and horses. Sometimes it was hard to tell which was which. The economy was booming, and thebor shortage was massive. The president was pushing a "Non-Regr Immigrant Legalization Act.¡± In in terms, it was about giving undocumented immigrants a chance to be legal citizens,plete with voting rights. This move had gained considerable support among the undocumented, and using illegal workers was bing moremon. Everyone seemed to understand what was happening, but nobody said it out loud. Because he had no legal status, Lance had no choice but to work here, earning less than half of what others made. This situation wasmon in Jingang City. People loved hiring undocumented workers¡ªif you obeyed, these up-anding capitalists might even cut your pay by two bucks next month. If you didn¡¯t behave, they¡¯d just call the cops and im you harassed them. This trick worked very well on undocumented workers. One of Lance¡¯s hometown acquaintances, who came over with him, was already getting free meals behind bars. He spent the entire afternoon working around the bakery. The smell of baking bread made his stomach growl as the hours dragged on, but he had to wait until the day ended to get his hands on any leftovers. The boss refused to keep unsold bread overnight, as it turned rock-hard. While reheating it made it edible, it wasn¡¯t as good as fresh bread, so leftovers became their food. Around a little after six, the bakery started to get busy. The boss stood at the counter handling payments, while his daughter packed bread for customers. The apprentice was constantly shoving dough into the oven or kneading more. Lance handled misceneous tasks. Though the boss¡¯s daughter wasn¡¯t very attractive, she was plump and¡­ vorful. A kind of¡­ rancid vor. If she hadn¡¯t reeked so much, Lance might have braced himself to be part of the family. But her overpowering scent was simply unbearable. By eight-thirty, the bustling business finally wound down. Exhausted, Lance cleaned up the bakery. He wasn¡¯t allowed in the kitchen, so most of his work was out front. The hefty boss sat at the table counting the day¡¯s earnings, a warm, rxed smile on his face. It was hard to imagine such a stingy, bitter man smiling so gently, but money had a powerful effect. After ensuring everything was clean and all tools were properly stored, Lance walked over to the boss. The boss looked up, sensing someone approaching, a wary look on his face. ¡°What do you want?¡± Lance forced a small smile. ¡°It¡¯s been a month now, boss. About my pay¡­¡± The boss, who¡¯d looked wary, nearly jumped up as if he¡¯d been poked with a hot iron. ¡°Pay?¡± ¡°What pay?¡± ¡°You weren¡¯t feverish from that rain the other day, were you?¡± ¡°No fever,¡± Lance replied, looking a bit puzzled, ¡°We agreed on fifteen bucks a month.¡± The boss red at him. ¡°Yeah, sure. But did you consider how much you¡¯ve cost me, staying here and eating my bread every day?¡± He flipped a page in his notebook. ¡°The cheapest inn around charges twenty-five cents a night, but I let you stay here for twenty.¡± ¡°Thirty-one days in a month¡­¡± ¡°February only has twenty-eight days, boss.¡± ¡°Shut up and listen!¡± ¡°Thirty-one days, at twenty cents a night¡­¡± Lance, seeing the boss freeze up mid-calction, quietly helped out, ¡°That¡¯s six dors and twenty cents, boss.¡± The boss nodded, ¡°Right, six-fifty. And every morning and evening, you eat one of my bread rolls.¡± ¡°You know, I sell each one for fifteen cents, so that¡¯s¡­¡± He looked at Lance, waiting for an answer. Lance didn¡¯t disappoint, ¡°Nine dors and thirty cents, boss.¡± The boss scribbled another number in his notebook, ¡°Yep, nine-fifty. Plus your rent, six-fifty, means you¡¯ve cost me¡­ ten¡­ eighteen dors a month.¡± ¡°But your pay is only fifteen. So, tell me, how do you think you¡¯ve earned any wages?¡± ¡°You actually owe me three bucks. I¡¯ll deduct it from your next paycheck¡ªif you get one.¡± Lance was at a loss for words. He¡¯d only read about this kind of thing in ¡°stories¡± and ¡°history,¡± but now, after an entire month, it was hitting him for real. It was like he was just a passerby in the grand tide of history, impressed but unattached. Until now¡ª ¡°You¡¯re¡­ you¡¯re not joking, are you?¡± he asked.Hello from the BOTI Trantor Team! We¡¯re thrilled to introduce you to this new story. If you¡¯re enjoying it, please give us a 5-star rating on NovelUpdates. Thank you for being with us! Chapter 2: I Never Joke Chapter 2: I Never Joke The boss looked at Lance with a satisfied but condescending smile. ¡°Unless you want to make me angry, you¡¯d better get back over there and wipe that floor again.¡± For capitalists who hire and exploit illegal workers, guilt over oppressing them would never even cross their minds; if it did, they wouldn¡¯t do it in the first ce. Anyone who could call themselves a capitalist, or even a budding one, had to get over any pangs of conscience to start. The two of them locked eyes for a moment. Lance raised his hands and backed up a couple of steps, saying, ¡°Whatever you say, sir.¡± The boss was pleased with this response and nodded with a grin. ¡°I like it when you call me ¡®Boss.¡¯ Keep doing that.¡± ¡°As you wish, Boss.¡± With that, the boss, thoroughly satisfied, let him go. ¡°Now get out of here!¡± Expressionless, Lance grabbed the mop he had just hung up and picked up a bucket to go fetch hot water, when he noticed the apprentice peering out at him from the back room with a smug look on his face, as if mocking Lance.Lance met his gaze, but the apprentice didn¡¯t back down, staring right back at him. ¡°I only have to pay him three bucks this month, but you¡ªyou¡¯re stuck paying him ten!¡± The apprentice seemed ready to retort, but Lance didn¡¯t give him the chance. ¡°In my hometown, we have a saying: ¡®Good dogs don¡¯t block the road.¡¯¡± The apprentice instinctively took a step back, though his face immediately flushed red with anger. Ignoring the curses behind him, Lance headed for the boiler room. The bakery¡¯srge oven wasn¡¯t an electric one or a standard household appliance. It was a massive wood-burning oven, continuously stoked with firewood. To make the most of the heat, there was a copper pipe inside. The pipe held water, which heated up and sent steam through a pipe connected to the base of anotherrge water tank, heating the water inside. This three-hundred-gallon tank was filled at four in the morning and boiled by around eight, maintaining a steady ny degrees throughout the day. To save on cleaning supplies, the boss insisted Lance use this nearly boiling water for mopping. Not only did hot water clean up oil stains and clumped bread crumbs better, but it also dried faster, allowing the boss to save a fair amount on detergent costs. So, with a bit of extra effort, Lance started scrubbing the floor he¡¯d just cleaned. Over the next couple of days, Lance silently endured the boss¡¯s harassment. For now, he needed a ce to stay. Leaving was easy enough, but where would he find food or a ce to rest? He figured he¡¯d leave once he found a more stable solution. As for the exploitation and mistreatment? He¡¯d make sure to pay it back. He wasn¡¯t the type to swallow his grievances quietly. That weekend, at around ten in the morning, the bakery was bustling with customers. Since the Federation introduced a two-day weekend policy a few years ago, more people had time to enjoy their weekends. They¡¯d go out for a trip to the suburbs or a meal, and even the poorer folks in the lower city had more opportunities and choices for weekend activities. ?¦¡?????S? Sweating from head to toe, Lance kept working non-stop. Just as noon approached and the customer flow began to thin out, the bell above the door jingled as two men entered, both wearing shirts, vests, and t caps. They looked to be in their twenties with a hint of menace about them, and their sharp gazes could cut like knives, making anyone uneasy. In the corner, the boss quickly moved over to the cash register. The two young men walked up to him with casual, confident strides, and one of them took off his hat, pinching the brim as he held it toward the boss. Without hesitation, the boss pulled out a stack of cash from the register, counted out fifty bucks, and ced it in front of them. ¡°Add ten dors; the rate¡¯s gone up,¡± said the shorter man, his face stony. The boss looked like he wanted to argue but eventually stayed silent, counting out another five two-dor bills. The taller man put his hat back on, casually grabbed a twenty-five-cent loaf of bread, and left with a grin, tossing a quick goodbye at the boss. Perhaps it was because Lance had seen the boss¡¯s softer, almost submissive side that his once docile and pitiable face twisted into a mask of rage. ¡°How long are you nning to just stand there?¡± ¡°Can¡¯t you see all the work that still needs to be done?¡± ¡°Remember what I told you¡ªdon¡¯t make me keep yelling at you, or you¡¯ll regret it!¡± Seeing the boss fuming with shame and anger, Lance just smiled and got back to work. Today seemed to be an unlucky day for the boss¡ªnot that he was injured, but his luck was clearly not great. Around one in the afternoon, during the bakery¡¯s quietest time, the doorbell rang, stirring the dozing Lance awake. The boss and his daughter were already on their lunch break. Despite being so overweight, they still insisted on napping. Perhaps that was part of why they were so fat. The neers were two police officers, dressed in sharp, well-fitting uniforms. Their silver-gray badges gleamed brightly in the well-lit room. ¡°Gentlemen, how can I help you?¡± ¡°We¡¯ve got freshly baked donuts, double-sugared.¡± ¡°If you buy a box, we¡¯ll even throw in a free cup of coffee.¡± The free coffee was made from the cheapest ground coffee beans, which cost a dor for six pounds. During processing, many beans got crushed and sieved out. The intact,rger beans sold for the highest price, while the lowest-grade beans, mixed with roasted twigs and bean shells, went for a buck per six pounds. Despite the quality, customers rarely noticed the difference. As long as the coffee wasn¡¯t too bitter and came with a freebie, they¡¯d happily drink it. Seeing no other customers around, the chubby officer turned the ¡°Open¡± sign to ¡°Closed¡± and took up guard at the door. The tall, skinny officer made himselffortable in a chair. ¡°Where¡¯s Johnny?¡± Johnny was the boss¡¯s name, and Lance nodded toward the back room. ¡°He¡¯s napping.¡± ¡°Go wake him up and tell him an old friend¡¯s here to see him.¡± Lance felt no attachment to the bakery and could tell these cops were here to cause trouble. He was more than happy to watch the boss squirm. He promptly went to the break room and knocked on the door. It wasn¡¯t long before the boss¡¯s cursing echoed from inside, and about two minutester, he yanked the door open, his face full of rage. ¡°Is someone dying, or what?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t you know skipping a nap ages you faster?¡± ¡°If you don¡¯t have a good reason for disturbing me, I¡¯ll dock two dors from your pay!¡± Lance waited until the boss had finished venting his anger, then pointed over his shoulder. ¡°An old friend is here to see you. He¡¯s a police officer.¡± The boss¡¯s expression shifted from anger to unease in an instant. He patted down his clothes as if considering retreating back to the room but ultimately decided to face them. It was clear he wanted to avoid this. When they returned to the main room, the officer was already enjoying a piece of bread. He¡¯d taken the most expensive loaf and opened a pack of premium ham, savoring his meal with a surreal calm. It was like¡­ this wasn¡¯t his true face. A police officer shouldn¡¯t be sitting in a bakery¡¯s dining area, savoring a meal slowly and politely during what appeared to be work hours. ¡°The bread¡¯s good, and the ham¡¯s high quality. You¡¯ve got the best skills in the area,¡± the officer remarked, stuffing thest of the bread in his mouth. He chewed a few times, swallowed, and then pulled out a handkerchief, carefully wiping away any remaining crumbs or grease. ¡°Time to pay this quarter¡¯s dues.¡± The boss, speaking with a rare hint of humility,pletelycked the loud, imposing tone he used with Lance or the apprentice. ¡°Isn¡¯t that supposed to be next month?¡±n/?/vel/b//in dot c//om January, April, July, and October were the ¡°protection fee¡± months. Not that they called it that, of course¡ªit was an ¡°insurance fund¡± that went to the police chief in the area, who ensured their safety. If someone robbed a shop, the police would try to catch the thief and return the money, but only if possible. So far, there¡¯d been at least thirty thefts and robberies on this street alone this year, with not a single person caught. Some whispered that the cops had actually nabbed the culprits but kept the money for themselves. Some shop owners had tried resisting but quickly faced retaliation. Their stores were broken into repeatedly until they resumed paying the fees¡ªand often had to pay even more. In the end, they had toply to run their businesses in peace. The officer tilted his head, looking at the boss. ¡°I¡¯ve kept you all safe for years, which held back my career.¡± ¡°But now I¡¯ve got a good opportunity. If it works out, I¡¯ll be promoted to the district office.¡± ¡°But I¡¯m a little short on cash to make it happen. You won¡¯t make things difficult for me, will you?¡± The boss¡¯s lips twitched, but in the end, he chose not to argue. ¡°I¡¯ll get it for you.¡± The officer¡¯s face broke into a bright smile. ¡°I knew you¡¯d understand. Once I¡¯m in the office, I¡¯ll make sure the gangs don¡¯t bother you anymore.¡± Not that anyone believed it. A short whileter, the boss returned with two hundred bucks. Perhaps Lance¡¯s presence offered some reassurance, as the boss hadn¡¯t sent him away. The officer counted the money, mostly in ten- and twenty-dor bills, finishing quickly. ¡°Another two hundred, for half a year¡¯s payment this time.¡± The boss¡¯s face twisted in shock. ¡°There¡¯s never been such a rule!¡± The officer ced his soiled handkerchief on the table, looking directly at the boss. ¡°There is now.¡± Chapter 3: If It Shouldnt Die, It’s Not a Vampire Chapter 3: If It Shouldn''t Die, It¡¯s Not a Vampire Blocking the bakery door with his bulky frame, the fat officer turned and red at the boss with a vicious glint in his eyes. Sometimes, the police in the City of Angels were even worse than gangsters, looking less like the good guys and more like something much darker. Facing an unspoken but terrifying threat, or the option of losing two hundred dors, the boss chose to give up the cash to protect himself. This bakery made about four hundred dors a month. After covering regr expenses, there was roughly three hundred and fifty left. Every month, the boss paid fifty in ¡°sanitation fees¡± to the gang and about sixty-five to the police. Recently, the gang raised their cut to sixty. So, after everything, his profit was only around two hundred and twenty-five. Once he ounted for his and his daughter¡¯s wages, the profit was barely a hundred dors. For most working-ss people, this might still be a substantial sum, but for a business owner, it was nothing to boast about. But at least it was still profitable.Taking a deep breath, the boss forced himself to stayposed. ¡°No problem, I¡¯ll go get it now.¡± A short whileter, he returned, clutching the two hundred dors he painfully pulled from his hidden cash stash and set it on the counter. The officer gave it a casual nce before pocketing the money. ¡°Johnny, don¡¯t worry. I y by the rules.¡± ¡°You¡¯re not losing out here. I won¡¯t charge you anything else for six months. You haven¡¯t been extorted by anyone; you just paid a bit early.¡± The boss looked slightly more at ease after hearing this exnation. But Lance, watching from his corner, knew the truth: this sudden early collection wasn¡¯t just because the officer needed the money urgently. Most likely, the guy really was about to transfer out and wanted to make onest haul before leaving. But Lance felt no obligation to warn the boss¡ªeven if he did, there wasn¡¯t much the boss could do. Some people had tried reporting corrupt cops before, but those cases always ended in silence. The officer nced between the boss and Lance, then tossed his handkerchief into the trash by the counter. ¡°If you run into any trouble, just have the station call me.¡± With that, he patted the fat officer at the door on the shoulder, tipped his hat, and walked out. The ¡°Closed¡± sign was flipped back to ¡°Open.¡± Lance watched them through the bakery window as they headed to the next shop. The officer clearly had an appetite for more. From this street down to the corner, there were at least thirty shops. If each one paid him four hundred dors, that¡¯d be twelve thousand. For the average person earning forty or fifty bucks a month, twelve thousand was an astronomical figure! ¡°Those foot-sore mongrels, those filthy bas***ds¡­¡± the boss cursed in a low voice. He muttered so cautiously, even in his swearing, that Lance couldn¡¯t help but find itughable. ????£Ï???? Suddenly, the boss looked up, his eyes bloodshot as he stared at Lance. ¡°Do you think I¡¯m a joke?¡± Lance instinctively took a step back, shaking his head quickly. ¡°No, not at all.¡± But the boss seemed to think otherwise. ¡°You canugh at me; you saw me humiliated. That¡¯s fine! No dinner for you tonight!¡± With that, he stomped back into the room, the sounds of objects being thrown around following him.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om Lance looked at the half-open door, the cursinging from inside, and the apprentice smirking at him from the back room. All of it gave him a clear understanding of the times he lived in. Power was the foundation. Whether it was the young men collecting ¡°protection fees,¡± or that thirty-something officer in his righteous-looking uniform¡ªstrip away the trappings, and they were all the same. What kept him working for free for a month, ending up three dors in debt to a greedy capitalist, while those guys pocketed a big cut every month without lifting a finger? It was power. Power created order. And those without power? They had to obey. Lance wasn¡¯t the type to follow rules, not entirely. Later that afternoon, as he pondered how to make the boss pay for his arrogance, he saw a short guy in a t cap rushing toward the bakery, hands on his hips and out of breath as he peered inside. Spotting him, Lance immediately went out to see what was up. On the journey over, Lance had met plenty of guys his age¡ªseventeen, eighteen, neen¡ªwho were quick to form a group. Just a few words and a nod to see if they could ¡°hang¡± was enough to make fast friends. Most of these refugees from the same homnd stayed in the area, doing the hardest, dirtiest work at the port¡ªwhere undocumented workers congregated most. The locals despised that kind of work, and capitalists preferred hiring undocumented workers for lower wages. They were the top choice for roughbor. There was even something called ¡°job leasing¡± now. The port¡¯s bulletin board listed notices like these¡ª The Federation¡¯sws and regtions supposedly protected the working ss, but in practice, they served as tools for better exploitation. To work, everyborer needed one of two documents: a Federation Social Security Number or a work permit for immigrants. If you were native-born or a legal immigrant, you had at least one of these. Undocumented folks had neither, but they still needed work, so what did they do? Some locals leased out their jobs to them; the mostmon example was boat scrubbers. The port office didn¡¯t care who actually did the scrubbing, as long as the boats were clean on time. Scrubbers made thirty-five a month. The undocumented worker had to pay fifteen to lease the job, then do all the work. They kept the remaining twenty. Twenty bucks was already considered high pay¡ªsome job cards now cost as much as eighteen. This meant someone officially unqualified to work could lease a job, toil away for a month, and only make seventeen. They lived in concrete pipes, ate the cheapest food, and might save just a few bucks each month. Some enterprising locals took on two or three jobs, or more, and leased them all out to undocumented workers. Each month, without lifting a finger, they¡¯d pocket fifty to sixty bucks. It had be a unique way of life in the city. The short guy in front of him, Elvin, was one of Lance¡¯s old acquaintances. In a foreignnd, the shared bond of being from the same ce created a certain trust. That trust stemmed from shared experiences, a sense of safety from knowing someone from the same background. Though some people took advantage of this trust, Elvin was reliable. He¡¯de to the Federation with Lance in the same batch from the Empire. It was obvious he was in a rush. Lance wiped his hands on his apron as he stepped outside. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± Elvin looked frantic. ¡°It¡¯s Ethan! Something happened!¡± Lance¡¯s expression shifted. ¡°What happened to him?¡± In their group, Lance had earned respect for his maturity and life experience. Whenever issues arose, they would turn to him for advice. Even if he was new to this world, his years as an adult gave him an edge in making steadier decisions than these half-grown kids. Elvin took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. ¡°Today¡¯s payday. You know we rent our work cards, so¡­¡± Lance was already guessing the rest. ¡°So the port paid your wages to the people who rented you the cards, and Ethan¡¯s guy refused to pay him, right?¡± Elvin nodded furiously. ¡°Exactly. That jerk told him he wouldn¡¯t give him a single penny and even cursed him out.¡± ¡°So Ethan got mad, beat the idiot up, and then the scumbag called the cops¡­¡± These incidents weren¡¯t umon at the port or throughout the City of Angels. There were always people ready to snatch away whatever others had, often without them knowing. And since thew didn¡¯t recognize undocumented workers, calling the cops often cost more than the month¡¯s lost wages. Most who got cheated just pretended nothing happened. This encouraged the parasites to get worse, knowing no one would report them¡ªthe cost was simply too high for undocumented workers. And with the sheer demand forbor in Jingang City, those job cards would always have takers. Lance frowned. This was not going to be easy. ¡°Where is Ethan now?¡± ¡°I told him to hide in the culvert under the bridge.¡± ¡°And the guy?¡± ¡°He said if Ethan paid him two hundred bucks, he¡¯d drop it. Otherwise, he¡¯d keep making trouble for him.¡± ¡°If he follows through, Ethan could end up getting sent back.¡± Being deported to the Empire now would mean more than just going to the front lines¡ªthe Emperor had gone mad. He¡¯d have anyone who evaded the draft executed! In other words, if Ethan got sent back, he¡¯d likely face prison or even death. The Federation¡¯s people could exploit and threaten them with no fear of consequence because of this! But two hundred was a huge amount. They¡¯d been here only a month, and most barely had a few bucks after food and expenses. Two hundred was impossible. Elvin confirmed this. ¡°We managed to pool sixty-three between seven or eight of us. We¡¯re still short more than a hundred.¡± Lance sighed. ¡°I didn¡¯t get paid this month, and I¡¯m three bucks in debt.¡± Elvin¡¯s voice was thick with anger. ¡°These damn vampires!¡± Chapter 4: What Was That Saying? The Wheels of Fate Start Turning… Chapter 4: What Was That Saying? The Wheels of Fate Start Turning¡­ ¡°The most important thing now is to get that son of a b*tch to drop the charges, or Ethan will have to keep hiding in the shadows.¡± ¡°If they catch him, it¡¯ll be a huge mess!¡± Lance was already thinking about how to handle this. Over the past month, it had be clear to him that the people in the Federation couldn¡¯t be trusted. Being rootless here, perhaps his fellow countrymen from the Empire would be his best allies. ¡°There are two ways to go about it. First, we scrape together some cash to shut this guy up and get him to withdraw theint.¡± ¡°Or, if we can¡¯t find the money, we¡¯ll have to convince him by¡­ other means.¡± Elvin frowned. ¡°That¡¯s not really much of a n. Where are we supposed to get that kind of money? Who would lend it to us?¡± They¡¯d only been here a month, didn¡¯t know anyone, and hadn¡¯t brought much cash.Most of them were here because their families had sacrificed a lot, almost emptying out their savings to send them away. Now, many fishermen back home had quit fishing entirely, instead ferrying people offshore to waiting smuggling ships. The whole journey had cost around fifteen hundred, a sum most families could barely afford. And since their families back in the Empire still needed money to survive and handle emergencies, the neers barely had anything left. When Lance disembarked, he¡¯d had less than five bucks to his name, and the others were in a simr situation. The most anyone had was maybe a few dozen. Elvin grumbled in frustration. ¡°So where on earth are we going to find that much cash?¡± Lance asked him to wait a moment while he went back to the bakery to discuss taking time off with the boss. ¡°My buddy¡¯s in trouble, and I need to go check it out, so I might not be back this afternoon.¡± The boss sat behind the counter with a pipe clenched in his teeth, his squinty, beady eyes almost hidden under folds of fat, just two pinpricks like buttons on an over-risen loaf. He eyed Lance up and down. ¡°You can have the time off, but I¡¯ll dock you a buck. And if you¡¯re not back by five, it¡¯ll be two.¡± ¡°If your absence causes us to sell less than yesterday, you¡¯ll cover the difference, since it¡¯s your fault.¡± Lance stared at him, and the boss met his gaze, unafraid. ¡°I know you hate me. And I enjoy watching you hate me, knowing there¡¯s nothing you can do about it.¡± ??????B¨º? Tapping his pipe against the counter, he pointed a finger at Lance. ¡°If you run off or don¡¯te back, I¡¯ll call the cops and say you stole from the store. You get me?¡± Lance maintained a respectful demeanor, even managing a slight smile. ¡°I understand, Boss.¡± The boss sneered. ¡°Then get out. And remember, I want to see you behind that counter by five.¡± ¡°Oh, and by the way, you now owe me four bucks. I¡¯m charging interest. If you don¡¯t pay by the end of the month, it¡¯ll be four-sixty¡­¡± A fifteen percent monthly interest rate¡ªequivalent to a 180 percent annual rate¡ªpractically murderous. Sometimes, people standing on the edge of a cliff feel the urge to jump. Some resist it; others take the plunge. Lance was silent for a moment but didn¡¯t refuse. ¡°I¡¯ll keep that in mind, Boss.¡± The boss, no longer able to draw satisfaction from lording over him, waved him off irritably. ¡°Scram.¡± Lance took off his apron, and he and Elvin headed out together. Not far off, their friends were waiting, about a dozen or so, crouching in the cool shade of an alley. When they saw him, they stood up and greeted him anxiously. ¡°I¡¯ve got five bucks here. How much did we pool together?¡± A guy named Mello dug into his pocket and pulled out a faded handkerchief, bulging with coins. When he opened it, nearly all of it was small change, though surprisingly there were also two two-dor bills. Seeing this camaraderie in a foreign ce, facing a crisis, Lance felt a sense of ¡°power¡± stirring within them. Like seeds nted in dark soil, it would one day push through to the surface. ¡°With yours, we¡¯ve got seventy-seven dors.¡± The young men exchanged a mix of expressions on hearing the total. In this period, intion in the Federation was low, and with the economy booming, the dor¡¯s purchasing power was strong. Seventy-seven bucks was not a trivial amount. But it was still a ways off from two hundred. ¡°Anyone know where the nearest financepany is?¡± After thinking it over, Lance decided to take out a loan¡ªa high-interest one. Sure, the interest was harsh, but with fourteen of them pitching in, even at a fifteen percent monthly interest, each of them would only shoulder about one-fifteenth of a hundred and fifty, meaning around a buck-fifty. If they paid it back with interest, each would only need to contribute three bucks a month, and they¡¯d clear the debt in less than half a year. He exined his n to the group, and after some discussion, they agreed it was the best option, though it¡¯d mean tightening their belts a bit. But after working for a month, they¡¯d gotten used to the city and learned a few tricks to survive. They knew where to find shelter, where and when free meals were handed out, and where they might snag used clothes on a lucky day. The longer they survived in the Federation, the better they¡¯d manage. And recently, the news had been abuzz about Congress passing a new bill concerning illegal immigrants. Once it was signed, they¡¯d be able to register at the immigration office and get their own work permits. Then, every dor they earned would be theirs, and they could pay off any debts in no time. Lance led the way, with about a dozen young men trailing behind him, and entered a financepany. Financepanies were everywhere in the Federation, especially in a fast-growing city like Jingang. Ny-nine percent of the Federation¡¯s citizens clung to the ¡°Federal Dream.¡± Many had seen ordinary people like themselves seize some opportunity, rising from the lower sses to be middle-ss, even capitalists, driving the nation wild with ambition.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om Miracles happened every day, celebrated in the media, equating the Federation with the promise of dreams, pushing people to pursue their own. But starting a business required money, and banks weren¡¯t the easiest lenders. To reduce risk, banks demanded coteral, usually only lending sixty percent of a property¡¯s value, with strict evaluations and conditions that blocked many from their entrepreneurial dreams. Financepanies, however, didn¡¯t ask as many questions. As long as you had something of value or the ability to pay back the loan, they¡¯d lend to you. Sure, some people took the money and vanished, but they often ended up in barrels, bing part of the port¡¯s foundations. If someone thought they could exchange a few hundred, a few thousand, or even ten thousand dors for their life, the financepanies would settle for that loss and end the borrower. Of course, few would go that far. The survival instinct was the strongest of all. So, financepanies lined the streets and alleys near the port. Lance picked one that looked rtivelyrge. The bouncer at the door stepped in front of them. ¡°This isn¡¯t a club. If you¡¯re looking for girls, they¡¯re across the street.¡± Facing this group of young men, he didn¡¯t quite know what they were after, and to y it safe, he ced his hand on his hip, where his shirt was slightly lifted, revealing a holster and the glint of a handgun. Some of the group immediately took a step back, while the rest grew too nervous to speak. Lance, however, remained calm, understanding that there was no reason anyone would shoot him. Not over this. ¡°We¡¯re here to borrow some money.¡± The bouncer looked at Lance, recognizing him as the level-headed one. ¡°You and one other can go in. The rest stay outside.¡± Lance nced back at the group. Though most held their ground, none stepped forward. After a moment¡¯s hesitation, Elvin volunteered. ¡°I¡¯ll go with you.¡± Lance nodded, and the bouncer let them pass, while the others waited outside. Thepany¡¯s interior wasvishly decorated, though it wasn¡¯t veryrge. Right past the entrance was a reception desk, where a pretty girl was busy filing her nails. She nced at the neers before returning her attention to her nails. Lance walked up and tapped the counter. ¡°We¡¯d like to borrow some money.¡± ¡°End of the hall, left turn. There¡¯s only one room there,¡± she replied without looking up. Lance smirked, then gestured for Elvin to follow him. Elvin was visibly nervous, so Lance didn¡¯t speak, knowing that small talk would only make him more anxious. The hallway was short, lined with offices on either side, though the upants looked less like office workers and more like enforcers. Each gaze lingered on the two of them as they walked past, and Lance could feel Elvin sticking close, even more uneasy. Tattoos covered muscr bodies, the hardened look of these men enough to make Elvin bow his head. But Lance walked on, unfazed. At the end of the hall, they turned left, stopping at a door marked ¡°Manager¡¯s Office.¡± Lance knocked, and a voice from within called, ¡°Come in.¡± Pushing open the door, they found a well-dressed man in a suit and tie sitting behind a desk. He looked to be in his early thirties and, after a moment¡¯s surprise, invited them to sit. ¡°Can I get you something to drink?¡± ¡°Water, thanks.¡± Chapter 5: I Have a Proposal, Too Chapter 5: I Have a Proposal, Too Soon, someone brought two sses of water, and the manager ced his hands naturally on the desk, fingers interlocked. He spread his hands. ¡°So¡­ what brings you here?¡± With a range of services offered, some transactions didn¡¯t go through him directly, so he wasn¡¯t always aware of every deal. Elvin seemed lost for words, but Lance remained calm and at ease. ¡°We¡¯ve run into a bit of trouble and need some money.¡± The manager smiled. ¡°That¡¯s no problem. That¡¯s what we¡¯re here for.¡± ¡°How much do you need?¡± ¡°Two hundred.¡±¡°Two hundred?¡± ¡°Two hundred.¡± The manager didn¡¯t think the amount was too small. Here, financepanies took on any size of loan¡ªsmall loans, in fact, often brought in higher returns per dor. Whilerger loans like a thousand dors mighte with an annual interest rate of fifty or sixty percent, loans of ten thousand might be only twenty or thirty percent. Plus, the risk was lower with small amounts. People were more likely to default on a big loan than a few hundred bucks. Of course, he¡¯d still need to gather some basic information on them; handing out money to anyone who asked wasn¡¯t finance¡ªit was charity. ¡°You don¡¯t sound like locals,¡± he observed. Lance didn¡¯t deny it. ¡°We¡¯re from the Empire.¡± The manager sneered slightly. ¡°I read about what¡¯s happening over there in the news¡ªa pretty miserable ce. So, what do you have as coteral?¡± ¡°You¡¯re not from here, and if you run, it¡¯d be hard to find you.¡± ¡°Rather than backing your request, I might as well turn it down.¡± Lance anticipated this as an obstacle and calmly began exining. ¡°We don¡¯t have any coteral¡­¡± Seeing the manager¡¯s expression morph into one that screamed, Are you kidding me?, Lance continued quickly, ¡°But we do have the ability to pay you back.¡± Seeing the manager¡¯s skeptical expression, he exined further, ¡°There are fourteen of us. We all work here in Jingang City, and since we¡¯re undocumented, it¡¯s not easy for us to move elsewhere.¡± ¡°As you probably know, other cities offer fewer job opportunities and aren¡¯t as¡­ tolerant as Jingang City. So, we won¡¯t be going anywhere.¡± The manager nodded at this, taking out a pack of cigarettes and offering it. Lance took one, though Elvin merely looked on and declined. The manager found Lance¡¯s poise interesting and pushed over a tabletop lighter, a popr model at the time¡ªabout the size of a grown man¡¯s palm. This one was a small clown figurine holding a torch. When you pressed down on the clown¡¯s arm, a spark would light the cotton wick in the torch, fueled by kerosene. ??¦Á???¨¨s Lance held the cigarette to the me and took a deep drag, visibly rxing. Watching him smoke, the manager lit his own cigarette. ¡°So, back to the topic. Exin how you n to guarantee I¡¯ll get my money back.¡± ¡°There are fourteen of us. Even if each of us only makes fifteen dors a month, that¡¯s still two hundred and ten dors.¡± ¡°We¡¯d pay you half of that, which would settle the debt in a maximum of three months.¡± ¡°And even if we lost our jobs, we could work directly for you to pay it off. There¡¯s no need to worry about us defaulting.¡± The manager listened and saw the logic but still had a question. ¡°And how do I know I¡¯ll be able to find you?¡± ¡°You could take a picture of us.¡± A good suggestion, but the manager decided to dig deeper. ¡°Mind if I ask what you need the money for?¡± ¡°After all, two hundred dors isn¡¯t a small sum for you guys.¡± Lance didn¡¯t hold back and got straight to the point. ¡°We¡¯re dealing with a problem. Some son of a b*tch is trying to shake us down for money¡­¡± After hearing Lance¡¯s brief exnation, the manager seemed intrigued. ¡°I have a new proposal. Interested?¡± Lance flicked his cigarette ash and replied, ¡°Do we have a choice?¡± The manager chuckled. ¡°Doesn¡¯t look like it¡­ Here¡¯s the deal: I¡¯ll handle that¡­ son of a b*tch for you, and you¡¯ll still owe me the two hundred, but I can reduce the interest a bit.¡± ¡°Honestly, letting me take care of it would be better for you than paying him off yourselves.¡± ¡°As per our policy, a two-hundred-dor loan would typically cost you three hundred fifty over six months, interest included.¡± ¡°But here¡¯s the deal: I¡¯ll cut it down for you. You pay three hundred twenty total over six months¡ªfifty-three thirty-three per month. Consider it a reward for your¡­ performance.¡± Seeing the manager¡¯s confident smile, Lance neither agreed nor refused immediately. Instead, he countered with a new offer: ¡°How about we pay you two hundred fifty total, interest included, off the books?¡± The manager froze for a moment, then burst intoughter, hisughter growing louder and louder, impossible to suppress. Lance realized what the issue was. ¡°Thispany¡­ is yours, isn¡¯t it?¡± Still chuckling, the manager nodded, holding his stomach. ¡°You¡¯re hrious. Trying to bribe me right here!¡± ¡°Haha, you¡¯re something else. Not like the clueless guy beside you. By the way, what¡¯s your name?¡± ¡°Lance,¡± he answered, spelling it out. ¡°A strange name, but you¡¯re an interesting one, Lance.¡± ¡°For making meugh so hard, I¡¯ll lower it to two hundred eighty over six months.¡± ¡°This is my final offer. If anyone else had tried haggling, I¡¯d have kicked them out immediately!¡± The manager¡¯s pride was palpable. In this cash-strapped era, anyone with cash had no trouble finding borrowers. Some might not want to bear such interest rates, but plenty of others were willing to take the risk. Two hundred plus eighty in interest¡ªconsidering the time and ce, that was far from exorbitant. Lance didn¡¯t hesitate. Stubbing out his cigarette in the ashtray, he exhaled thest puff of smoke as he stood and extended his hand. ¡°d we could reach an agreement, sir.¡± The manager blinked, then shook Lance¡¯s hand. ¡°You¡¯re a fascinating one, Lance. Now I¡¯m your creditor.¡± He called out toward the door, ¡°Fordis, get in here!¡± A burly man soon entered, standing at attention. ¡°Yes, boss?¡± The manager released Lance¡¯s hand and gestured to him. ¡°Follow him and settle a matter with some son of a b*tch. Then, swing by his workce. And grab some food on the way back.¡± He looked at Lance. ¡°You¡¯re not like most people your age. Frankly, there¡¯s something unique about you, and I like that. I have a feeling you won¡¯t be just anybody in the future.¡± ¡°Hope I¡¯ll hear your name around Jingang City someday, Lance.¡± ¡°Oh, and don¡¯t forget about the money you owe. If you do, I¡¯ll make sure someonees to remind you¡ªa reminder you won¡¯t like. Got it?¡± Though he found Lance intriguing, business was business. Just like how the street girls didn¡¯t offer discounts for regr customers. If one caught their eye, they might offer to spend the night, but during work hours, every extra request had a price. After this simple warning, he let them go. Two hundred eighty dors meant about forty-seven per month. But those forty-sevens kept his lifestyle afloat. Plus, he hadn¡¯t actually loaned any money¡ªhe¡¯d solved a problem and gained an intriguing acquaintance. That sense of dissonance around Lance, a feeling that he didn¡¯t quite fit this world, made the manager a little more forgiving, willing to let things y out. As soon as Lance and Elvin walked out of the financepany, their friends surrounded them, asking about the oue. Lance exined that the matter had been handled but gave them a heads-up, ¡°Each of you will need to pitch in three dors per month. That¡¯s forty-two, and Ethan can cover the remaining five himself¡ªit¡¯s his mess, after all.¡± No one had any objections, and they were all willing to follow Lance¡¯s lead. Fordis frowned. ¡°We¡¯re on a tight schedule.¡± Lance nodded and sent the others off to await further news. Then, he and Elvin got into thepany car. Following Elvin¡¯s directions, they drove toward the port. The guy who¡¯d filed the report on Ethan lived in a workers¡¯ dormitory nearby. This was Lance¡¯s first time riding in a car in this world. The interior was far more luxurious than it appeared from the outside, with walnut and calfskin trim that gave off an air of understated luxury. ¡°How much does this car cost?¡±n/?/vel/b//in dot c//om Without looking back, Fordis replied, ¡°Twenty thousand.¡± Lance whistled and fell silent. Twenty thousand. He could imagine it, but getting that much would be tough. The ride was a bit bumpy,cking good suspension and making for a rather ¡°hard¡± trip, but it was still a car¡ªand as a man, he couldn¡¯t dislike it. The car pulled up outside the workers¡¯ dormitory. Fordis followed Lance and Elvin up to the fourth floor, where they knocked on a door. ¡°It¡¯s you?¡± The guy¡ªa drunk who reeked of booze¡ªsneered at Elvin as soon as he opened the door. ¡°You got the money?¡± Lance pulled Elvin aside, and Fordis stepped in front, speaking in a calm but firm tone. ¡°Go to the station and withdraw your report. This ends here.¡± The man, clearly drunk, was in no mood toply. He shoved Fordis and sneered, ¡°Who¡¯d you hire to act tough?¡± ¡°You smuggled-in rats think I¡¯m scared of some muscle?¡± ¡°If you want me to drop it, fine¡ªtwo hundred bucks in my hand, or¡­¡± He trailed off, realizing Fordis had opened his jacket, revealing a holster and the gun inside. ¡°Wanna see if this thing fires?¡± The man sobered instantly, stumbling back with his hands up, retreating to the doorway. ¡°I¡­ I didn¡¯t realize¡­¡±Hi, dear readers! We hope you¡¯re loving this journey as much as we love tranting it for you. If you¡¯re enjoying it, a 5-star rating on NovelUpdates would be an amazing way to support the BOTI Trantor Team! Chapter 6: Gunmen and Bullets Chapter 6: Gunmen and Bullets Weapons are incrediblymon in Jingang City. When violence bes the rule in broad daylight, weapons inevitably be a key resource¡ªboth to defend oneself and to infringe on the rights of others. Faced with the choice between ¡°having a gun in hand¡± and ¡°reporting to the police afterward,¡± any smart resident of Jingang City knows which option to take. Although weapons are everywhere, not everyone possesses them, let alone openly disys them. Only three types of people dare to do that¡ª First, the federalw enforcement officers. They have the legal right to carry guns; if they shoot you, all they have to do is file a report saying, ¡°... I showed my ID, then he tried to grab my weapon, so I followed protocol under Section¡­,¡± and then they get a nice vacation, with enthusiastic greetings from colleagues upon their return. The second group is gang members, who not only don¡¯t hide their weapons but wish for as many people as possible to see them. The thrill of knowing their weapons can kill fills them with excitement.The third groupprises those who work for capitalists. They¡¯re the scariest because the first two groups at least abide by some rules. But the capitalist¡¯s people? They only recognize money. In the face of money,ws and morals are nothing that would stop them from pulling the trigger. On the western outskirts of Jingang City is a ce called Angel Lake, a popr tourist spot, with a local saying known only to residents: ¡°When capitalists get angry, the water level in Angel Lake rises!¡± Outsiders might not understand this, but locals know that theke level rises because of all the oil barrels dumped in it! Whichever kind it is, nobody messes with these bastards. People at the bottom of society actually understand how to navigate these crises and make choices better than most adults might assume. So when faced with an imminent crisis, this man immediately gave in without a moment''s hesitation¡ªso quickly that it almost looked... practiced! ¡°I¡¯ll do it right away, and I promise it won¡¯t happen again!¡± Fordis retracted his hand, letting his coat naturally fall to conceal his weapon, which allowed the man in front of him to finally take a breath.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om Just in those few seconds, his mind had gone nk, his body was drenched in sweat¡ªhe¡¯d felt like he¡¯d nearly died! He looked at Elvin and Lance with newfound wariness. ¡°I have some things I¡¯d like to discuss with... this gentleman here.¡± Fordis nced at Lance for a few seconds, then turned away. ¡°I¡¯ll be here if you need anything.¡± In the entirepany, Fordis was among the boss¡¯s most trusted men. If he¡¯d been sent out on this errand, it was certainly because the boss found this young man intriguing. ?????????? He knew what to do. Lance gestured for the trembling drunk to step aside. ¡°Unless you¡¯d like to chat out here in the hallway, which I¡¯m sure your neighbors would love to overhear.¡± ¡°If you¡¯re okay bing theughingstock of this dormitory by tomorrow, we can continue here.¡± The man suddenly realized what was happening. Though he still held some fear, disgust, and resentment, he moved aside to let Lance in. Federal people still cared about their pride¡ªeven a bastard of a drunk. The apartment was a typical one for people at the bottom¡ªless than forty square meters, with a cramped kitchen, dining area, and bathroom, and beyond them, a bedroom and a small storage room. This setup was rather interesting. Those in the lower levels of the federation could go without a separate kitchen, but not without a storage room. Though most poor folks had very little, they always had a collection of inexplicable, useless things they refused to part with¡ªjunk, essentially. Just like themselves, in terms of their worth on the path of life. Without a storage room, the ce would be an utter mess. There was no sign of a woman or child¡¯s presence, but a photo frame on the dining table held a picture of the man and a child. The whole scene suggested the man wasn¡¯t doing too well. The suspicious stains and strange odor on the sofa made Lance decide not to sit. He stood nearby, close to the door. ¡°Listen, Ethan is my friend. I¡¯ll have him apologize for his reckless behavior, but you¡¯re at fault, too. You shouldn¡¯t have tried to deduct money from his pay.¡± The drunk man nodded instinctively, murmuring ¡°uh-huh¡± in response. ¡°So after the case is closed, he¡¯ll apologize, but you also need to return the wages you withheld from him.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll see that he doesn¡¯t pursue this further, but you have to promise this is thest time.¡± ¡°Your arrangement will remain in ce. He¡¯ll keep using your work card every month, paying you fairly. But you won¡¯t make things difficult for him by withholding pay.¡± Lance walked over to the table, picked up the picture frame, and remarked, ¡°Cute kid. Yours?¡± The drunk man snapped out of his daze, suddenly tense. ¡°This has nothing to do with him.¡± Lance put the frame down, smiling. ¡°Whether he¡¯s involved or not depends on your choice, sir.¡± ¡°We¡¯re all just despicable stowaways here, thieves from another world. There¡¯s nothing here worth holding on to for us.¡± ¡°But you have family here. You have a child, don¡¯t you?¡± The man nodded repeatedly. ¡°I get it. I¡¯ll give him the money, but please, don¡¯t make any trouble.¡± Lance¡¯s hand rested on the edge of the table, and he suddenly felt the sticky grime. It was unpleasant, though he restrained himself from showing it. ¡°I¡¯ve always believed that everything runs ording to certain patterns and rules.¡± ¡°As long as rules exist, we¡¯ll follow them. That¡¯s enough.¡± ¡°At market rate, fifteen dors is what you¡¯re due. Nobody has the right to take away your money¡ªthat¡¯s the rule.¡± ¡°As long as you follow the rules, so will we.¡± From his position near the door, Elvin watched Lance with admiration. He never expected so much could happen in one day! Ethan ran off, they got into trouble, then Lance took him to borrow money. They didn¡¯t get the money, but they solved the problem. He even rode in a car and saw Lance act so cool in person! It was so worth it! Too cool! Despite his daze, the drunk man finally came to his senses. ¡°I know what to do now.¡± After a moment¡¯s hesitation, he asked, ¡°Can I know your name?¡± With a confident, self-assured smile, as if everything were under his control, Lance replied, ¡°Lance.¡± A few minutester, the drunk man had changed into a different set of clothes. Though they still carried a strong odor, they were better than before. In silence, he got into the car. When they arrived at the precinct, he immediately exined the situation and signed a document under the watchful eye of some impatient police officers. From inside the car, Lance watched the events unfold through the ss window. It was a curious feeling. Fordis couldn¡¯t hold back his curiosity any longer and asked, ¡°Aren¡¯t you scared?¡± Lance looked back at him in the rearview mirror. ¡°Scared of what?¡± Fordis smirked. ¡°This is a police station, and as far as I know, you¡¯re an undocumented person. And so is the kid with you.¡± Lance couldn¡¯t help but run his hand over the car door. The smooth walnut wood felt satisfying, exining why some people liked ssic cars. ¡°Not at all.¡± ¡°Mind if I ask why?¡± ¡°Because there¡¯s twenty thousand dors between me and them, and that¡¯s a gap they won¡¯t cross.¡± Fordis pondered this for a moment before saying with some admiration, ¡°That¡¯s a wise answer. Are you really only eighteen?¡± Lance didn¡¯t answer, only smiled. Not far away, under a bridge, Ethan hid in an abandoned culvert where many homeless people lived. This ce stayed warm in winter since the wind couldn¡¯t get in, and it remained cool in summer thanks to shade and the cold air seeping from nearby pipes. Facing the drunk man, Ethan apologized earnestly, ¡°I shouldn¡¯t have hit you so impulsively. I¡¯m sorry, sir.¡± As he spoke, the man could still feel the ache in his cheekbone from Ethan¡¯s earlier punch. Ethan was only twenty but looked at least twenty-seven or twenty-eight, maybe even older. He was strong. His father had been a leatherworker¡ªa respected profession both in the Empire and the Federation. Leatherworking symbolized a craft, a social standing. It¡¯s hard to imagine leatherworkers having social status, but looking back at historical shifts in social ss, it did exist. Because originally, those who could afford leather goods were usually nobles. So leatherworkers initially served the nobility, giving them a status above ordinary people. Thanks to his father¡¯s stable ie and social standing, Ethan grew up tall and strong. The drunk, now facing this intimidating young man, watched Ethan bow with an expression of relief. He nced at Lance and Fordis, finally facing reality. ¡°I made some mistakes, too. It wasn¡¯t all your fault. We¡¯re even¡­¡± Ethan received his twenty dors, not a cent short. The man had nned to give him a bit more, but Lance refused. Rules are rules, and it¡¯s best not to break them when youck power¡ªthat¡¯s survival. After watching the drunk man leave, Lance asked Fordis to wait a little longer. He had a few more things to discuss with Ethan. Chapter 11: A Big Shot’s Joke Might Not Just Be a Joke Chapter 11: A Big Shot¡¯s Joke Might Not Just Be a Joke ¡°Mr. President, over ten groups have decided to march in Jingang City to protest the influx of immigrants, saying they bring criminals and crime to the Federation.¡± ¡°Senator Xn made a public statement this morning, expressing support for your opponent. He believes that stricter immigration control, especially for illegal immigrants, would significantly improve the people''s well-being.¡± ¡°Also¡­ Mr. So-and-so and Mr. So-and-so both wish for a return call from you.¡±n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om The President raised his hand to stop his aide from speaking further. The matters of these two gentlemen clearly took precedence over everything else. Both were key financial backers for his campaign, and before winning the election, the President had promised them a steady flow of cheapbor for the workforce. In fact, they weren¡¯t the only supporters given such assurances; many campaign backers had received simr promises. The Federation''s economy was advancing rapidly. As technology improved, the costs of raw materials and semi-finished goods had decreased, butbor costs continued to rise year by year. Four years ago, they only needed to pay twenty-eight dors to hire a willing worker. Now, at least thirty-five dors was needed just to hire someonezy enough to cut corners. To get a diligent worker? Not under forty dors. By next year, wages would likely start at forty dors for most roles, with some positions requiring even more. Forrge factories with thousands, even tens of thousands of employees, saving just three dors per worker could amount to tens of thousands saved each month, hundreds of thousands in a year. The President¡¯s push for the legalization of illegal immigrants was rooted in this need¡ªhe had to honor his promises to deliver a cheap workforce for society. There was no way he could ask citizens to give up high wages and work physically demanding jobs for less than the societal wage standard. Thus, the only choice was to turn to these undocumented workers. After contemting for a while, he adjusted his thoughts and dialed a number. Following brief pleasantries, he promised the corporate president on the other end that he would swiftly address these issues. He also hinted that if he seeded, he expected full support in his re-election bid in return.Then, he made a second call, then a third. Afterward, he summoned his team of aides, and a group of people held an early meeting in his office. ¡°I¡¯ve spoken with several gentlemen, and right now, gaining their support is our top priority,¡± he stated. ¡°I don¡¯t want to sound discouraging, but our campaign position is somewhat challenging. If our supporters continue to pull away, the chance of re-election will be very slim.¡± ¡°You all must find a way to tackle this problem¡ªwe¡¯re running out of time¡­¡± The Presidential Office remained as busy as ever, with everyone appearing to have endless tasks at hand. The aides discussed solutions, though few viable ideas emerged. ¡°Mr. President, I believe the priority is to contain the incident in Jingang City. Elevenw enforcement officers were killed, and the social impact of this result is tremendous.¡± ¡°Our opponents are already using this news to gain momentum. We either need to stop them or be even more aggressive ourselves.¡± ¡°But¡­¡± The aide didn¡¯t continue. While it seemed like the President had two options, in reality, no choices remained. After a moment¡¯s consideration, the President said, ¡°Let¡¯s figure out how to resolve this issue. Stop drawing people¡¯s attention to these conflicts¡ªcover some positive news. People need uplifting stories.¡± ¡°As for that news, find a way to downy it¡­¡± Just as the President contemted how to dilute the impact of this incident, his opponents were trying to stir up even more trouble for him. Their aim was simple and harmless: to ensure he lost the election. They weren¡¯t concerned with what might happen along the way or what societal changes might result. Even if the house burned down, it didn¡¯t matter. If they could be the house¡¯s new owners, they¡¯d rebuild it to their taste¡ªat least with new decor. If they didn¡¯t own the house, why would they care? A few dayster, several sizable protest groups emerged within Jingang City, condemning the local government¡¯s leniency towards illegal immigrants and criticizing the Federation government¡¯s disregard for the harm caused by smuggling and illegal immigration. Indirectly, they were attacking the President¡¯s policies and decisions. ?£Á¦­¨°¦¢§§S? The Federation, as a free country, allowed people to speak their minds. Even if these protests seemed a bit extreme, both their actions and their words were within legal bounds. Driven by capital and political clout from campaign teams, what should have been a short-lived incident showed no signs of abating. A parade of protesters holding cards marched past the bakery, each looking furious as they demanded all illegal immigrants be sent back to their homnds,beling them as thieves, prostitutes, and criminals¡ªas if every thief, prostitute, and criminal was an illegal immigrant. If the Federation''s citizens were genuinely so virtuous, this country would have fallen apart long ago. Lance observed from behind the counter as the public sentiment in Jingang City grew moreplicated. There weren¡¯t many customers in the bakery that morning, only three or five old men. They would order a ten-cent piece of toast and a fifteen-cent coffee, which would let them sit around for most of the day. The chubby shop owner had seemingly gotten wisertely, rarely bothering Lance. He had hoped to pressure Lance into submission but had achieved nothing but a stomach full of frustration. Now, he watched with interest, curious to see if Lance, who owed him more and more each month, would still be able tough by month¡¯s end. Lance¡¯s current debt to him was twelve dors. At ten percent monthly interest, this debt would rise to fifteen dors by the end of the month, plus a dor-fifty in interest. It didn¡¯t seem like much, but if Lance continued to receive no wages, he¡¯d be working for free for the rest of his life. ¡°I wonder when these protests will end¡ªit¡¯s already affecting our lives,¡± one customer remarked, holding a newspaper as he chatted with his friend nearby. This was the true nature of the Federation bakery. It wasn¡¯t just a ce to sell bread; it also had a social atmosphere, simr to a tea house or a caf¨¦. Some people would buy bread and sit there, order a coffee, and chat while enjoying their snacks. For the elderly, this slow-paced lifestyle was essential, and for some, this was the most rxing part of their day¡ªtalking, boasting, reading the newspaper, and sharing their views. The customer beside him sighed as well. ¡°Who knows?¡± ¡°Maybe things will settle down before the election¡­¡± As he spoke, a newspaper boy in worn-out shoes dashed past the bakery door, waving a paper and shouting, ¡°The Empire has withdrawn its diplomatic envoy¡ªmajor international changes are on the way!¡± The people in the bakery were stunned for a moment, followed by a long silence. Without a doubt, the decision to withdraw the diplomatic envoy stemmed from the Empire¡¯s Emperor and his ¡°entric¡± ideas. By this point, many people at the grassroots level were beginning to realize that the so-called deration of war might not just be the Emperor¡¯s ¡°joke.¡± Rationally, most people didn¡¯t believe this war would happen, but the looming threat still left them feeling suffocated. The customers who had been happily chatting left money on the tables and got up to leave. The chubby shop owner,ing back to his senses, looked at Lance with aplex expression. ¡°Do you think there¡¯ll be a war?¡± This was perhaps the first time in a while he had spoken to Lance without intending to get him to do more work. As Lance wiped the ss, making it spotless, he answered, ¡°No¡­ unless the President¡­¡± He abruptly stopped talking. He realized that if the President were to fall behind in the election, starting a war might actually be to his advantage. It wouldn¡¯t be the Emperor¡¯sst-ditch, ridiculous maneuver, but a shrewd political move with no cost. If it failed, he¡¯d just be ridiculed¡ªhe was already ousted by the Rebel Army and had endured worse. Dering war on the Federation would only be the second mostughable thing he¡¯d done. But if it seeded, he could reim everything he¡¯d lost. And it wasn¡¯t a random gamble; there was a significant chance of sess. ording to the Federation¡¯s constitution, elections do not take ce during wartime, allowing the President to automatically stay in office until the war ends. He wouldn¡¯t even need to maintain the war for very long; three months would be enough to secure his re-election. Lance¡¯s sudden silence conveyed an ominous tension, and the shop owner, feeling the weight of it, wiped his hands. ¡°I¡¯m going out for a bit. Watch the shop.¡± He returned to his room with a grave expression and changed his clothes. If a war were indeed likely, he needed to stock up on flour and supplies. Whether he used it to make bread for sale or sold the raw materials, he¡¯d make a fortune. The apprentice leaned against the doorframe, gazing outside with a dazed expression, as if his nk stare mirrored the increasingly overcast sky, with no trace of insight breaking through. Chapter 13: Give and Take Chapter 13: Give and Take They hadn¡¯t even had time to enjoy the freedoms of the Federation before losing their jobs. Perhaps this job loss was a lesson for these young men, teaching them a harsh truth: even if they endured exploitation and oppression, fate would never favor them. Simply because they stood at the bottom of society, powerless against the forces above them. When someone cannot resist being plundered, others don¡¯t sympathize with their plight¡ªthey just join in the plundering. Ethan wanted to argue with the dock manager, but Elvin firmly grabbed his shirt, staring him down with a look more menacing than he¡¯d ever shown before. Slowly, he shook his head, signaling Ethan to stay quiet. Antagonizing workers was one thing¡ªthey were all in the same social ss, and at most, the workers might cause minor trouble or call the Police. In a city where countless cases urred every year, no officer would waste precious resources on petty disputes. But antagonizing management, even the lower-tier cadres, was entirely different. Elvin stepped forward. ¡°Sir, when this turmoil settles¡­¡±The manager looked at Elvin for a moment, then nodded. ¡°Of course. You¡¯re always wee here.¡± ¡°Elvin, you¡¯re a smart man, so I¡¯ll level with you,¡± he continued. ¡°You¡¯ve seen how much we need you all here. I don¡¯t think this storm willst too long. You just need toy low for now.¡± Elvin forced an awkward smile. ¡°And during this time¡­ our wages?¡± The manager acted as though he hadn¡¯t heard, continuing with what he wanted to say. ¡°Thepany will ensure the docks remain operational, and City Hall will cooperate as well. Just be ready to return to work anytime we call on you.¡± It was a gentle but clear way of telling Elvin there¡¯d be no pay. Half a month¡¯s wages for thousands of workers was no small amount. And withholding pay was both legal and reasonable¡ªafter all, these men were undocumented. The manager raised a hand as if to pat Elvin on the shoulder but stopped short, noticing the dust covering him. He withdrew his hand. ¡°Good luck, Elvin.¡± As for the others, the manager didn¡¯t even spare them a nce. The group¡¯s anger was palpable, but they were helpless. Over the past month, while they hadn¡¯t fully grasped the Federation¡¯s social hierarchy, they¡¯d begun to get the picture. ¡°So, what now?¡± one of them asked. Elvin plucked a strand of hair and twisted it in his fingers. ¡°Let¡¯s find Lance. Maybe he has an idea.¡± The main entrance to the dock was surrounded by protestors. Some young demonstrators looked unstable, striking railings and gates with sticks. Not far away, Police officers munched on donuts and sipped coffee, casually chatting while half-sitting on the hoods of their cars, as though oblivious to the brewing violence. ??????¨¨? Spotting Elvin¡¯s group¡ªthergest in number¡ªthe protestors seemed to discover a new target. Several young leaders turned toward them, and soon, the crowd of thirty or forty people, armed with sticks, began advancing. Unustomed to such confrontations, the group panicked. Seeing the Police¡¯s indifference, Elvin gave Ethan and Mello a shove and shouted, ¡°Run!¡± before bolting into the docks. They knew the area well, familiar with every hiding spot. Outside, the Police remained unfazed, continuing to savor their overly sweet donuts and coffee. Their chief had instructed them: letting people vent their frustrations would yield positive results. As long as no one was killed¡ªwell, even if someone was killed during this ¡°storm,¡± it wouldn¡¯t be a big deal. The societal tension, amplified by politicians and capitalists, had spilled over to affect more and more people. Some who weren¡¯t even locals had joined this so-called crusade against illegal immigrants, turning it into a "celebration" of sorts. By 2 p.m., the dock management decided enough was enough and called Jingang City Police. Soon, a fleet of Police Cars arrived, and baton-wielding officers with shields began detaining those attacking undocumented workers. They arrested the attackers but ignored the wounded or bloodied immigrants lying on the ground. While their actions appearedwful, the justice they served carried a distinct stench of rotting fish. Elvin¡¯s group fared rtively well. Having outnumbered their assants, they tried to minimize harm by restraining attackers rather than injuring them. Even so, many had bleeding wounds and injuries. Covered in blood, their faces showed traces of fear. Only days ago, they¡¯d dreamed of a brighter future. Now, those dreams seemed shattered. The mayor gave an emergency speech, ordering city-wide patrols to prevent further esction. He authorized officers to shoot looters or arsonists who resisted arrest. Gunfire echoed sporadically throughout the afternoon, finally quieting down after 7 p.m. Lance was absentmindedly cleaning the bakery when the chubby owner returned with a truck, unloading supplies into the storeroom. The day¡¯s extraordinary events prompted the owner to close shop early. At 7 p.m., he instructed Lance to flip the ¡°Open¡± sign to ¡°Closed.¡± Lance was finishing thest of the cleaning when the doorbell jingled. Without looking up, he called out, ¡°Sorry, we¡¯re closed.¡± The visitor didn¡¯t leave, instead asking, ¡°Is Mr. Johnny here?¡± Stopping his work, Lance straightened up to see a woman in her mid-thirties. She wore an outdated round-cor blouse paired with a burgundy skirt. Though her attire was far from fashionable, her figure and features gave her an appealing charm that transcended trends. ¡°He¡¯s in the back. Should I call him for you?¡± She nodded, and Lance went to the window overlooking the storeroom. ¡°Boss, someone¡¯s here to see you.¡± ¡°Who is it?¡± Johnny emerged, ledger in hand. Upon seeing the woman, he frowned slightly. She walked straight to him, pulled him into the break room, and shut the door. The door clicked as it locked, prompting Lance to mutter, ¡°Lucky dog.¡± The woman wasn¡¯t Johnny¡¯s ex-wife or current spouse¡ªJohnny had been single since his divorce. Lance didn¡¯t recognize her. As Lance resumed work, he noticed the apprentice standing by the door, his face a mix of hurt and anger, fists clenched until his knuckles turned white. Lance elbowed him. ¡°You know her?¡± The apprentice red at him. ¡°Stay the hell out of it!¡± ¡°Is she your mom?¡± Lance shot back, unfazed. The apprentice¡¯s eyes reddened as he red harder, then turned and stormed off to the back. It clicked for Lance: she really was his mom. From the locked room came loud noises. Johnny didn¡¯t seem to care that others could hear, and the woman¡¯s pleas were audible through the thin door. The bakery was eerily quiet, amplifying every sound. It didn¡¯t take much imagination to know what was happening inside. About 15 minutester, Johnny emerged, looking satisfied. ¡°This is thest time!¡± he said, his tone threatening. ¡°For your sake.¡± The woman, pale-faced, quickly adjusted her clothes and left the bakery without looking back. Lance cleaned up the mess she left behind as the owner shot him a warning nce. ¡°Do it right. If I find a single missed spot, you¡¯ll go hungry tonight.¡± He returned to the storeroom to inventory his new stock. Finishing his chores, Lance went to the back, where the apprentice stood at the workbench, wringing his hands. Leaning against the bench, Lance asked, ¡°Wanna talk?¡± The apprentice stayed silent. Before Lance could press further, the door swung open. Abandoning the conversation, he went to the front to find Elvin, his head bloodied. Blood matted his hair, and although his face had been wiped clean, faint stains remained. Lance¡¯s expression turned serious as he approached to inspect the injuries. ¡°Who did this to you?¡± Elvin, his voice shaky, said, ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter. Lance, there was a sh at the docks this afternoon. That¡¯s when we got beaten.¡± ¡°We hid until dark to escape. A few others are in the same shape as me.¡± ¡°We¡¯ve been temporarily fired¡­¡±n/o/vel/b//in dot c//omThat¡¯s it for today¡¯s update! Enjoying the story? Support BOTI Trantor Team with a 5-star rating on NovelUpdates. Thank you! Chapter 15: A New Job Chapter 15: A New Job The chubby shop owner prepared the bakery¡¯s supplies and left in the morning, a rare urrence, as mornings were peak business hours. The streets outside were dirty and chaotic. Customers mentioned that all of Jingang City¡¯s street cleaners had gone on strike today¡ªa polite way of saying it. In reality, most of the city¡¯s street cleaners were undocumented immigrants who worked for a meager twenty-five dors a day to clean the streets twice. Hiring locals, on the other hand, cost at least thirty-five dors per day. A ten-dor difference might seem minor, but with enough workers, the savings added up quickly. There were two kinds of city cleaners: those working directly under the City Management Bureau as government employees with standard pay, social and medical insurance, government benefits, and plenty of time off. The others worked for private cleaningpanies contracted by City Hall, hired as cheapbor¡ªoften undocumented immigrants¡ªwith minimal pay while thepany pocketed the difference as profit. As shes between locals and immigrants intensified, even the few local cleaners were too scared to work alone, forcing a strike. This strike might have also served as a political statement, subtly urging citizens to calm down.n/?/vel/b//in dot c//om After just one night and morning without cleaning, the streets already looked filthy, animal droppings on the roadside emitting a stench in the heat. If it rained, the water would mix with the droppings, spreading the foul odor throughout the city. The morning rush passed quickly, with customers arriving early, buying bread, and leaving without stopping to chat. Around eleven, the same car Fordis had drivenst time pulled up outside. He stayed inside, honking and calling to Lance, ¡°Get in!¡± Lance handed his apron to the shop owner¡¯s daughter, asked for a quick leave, and got in the car.¡°The boss wants to see you,¡± Fordis said, carefully navigating around the manure on the road. It wouldn¡¯t harm the car, but cleaning the residue from the tire treads would be a hassle. Yet, there was no avoiding it with the streets in this state. ¡°What about?¡± Lance asked, though he had a pretty good idea. Fordis shook his head. ¡°There are smokes in the glove box. You¡¯ll find out soon enough.¡± They drove in silence, with Fordis focused on the road. Demonstrators were everywhere, and in the alleyways, small groups were asionally seen assaulting lone individuals. Lance even saw Police officers tying up some rioters who had attacked immigrants to streemps and leaving them there. Fordis nced over and exined, ¡°The Police stations are full, and they can¡¯t send everyone to jail, so this morning, the mayor signed an ¡®On-the-Spot Detainment Order.¡¯ Anyone caught attacking will be tied to a streemp for twenty-four hours.¡± Lance lit a cigarette. ¡°This bad, huh?¡± Fordis nodded. ¡°Lots of outsiders areing to join in, so you can imagine how big it¡¯s gotten. Stirring up trouble is a popr hobby for Federation citizens, but some groups get paid to create chaos. Here, you can arrange any protest, anywhere, any size, as long as the money¡¯s there.¡± In Jingang City, luxury cars had their privileges, too, and Fordis had no trouble driving them directly into the alley behind the Finance Company, where several high-end cars were parked. Two burly men were lounging by the back door, sipping coffee. They greeted Fordis with a wave and gave Lance curious nces. ¡°This is Howard and his brother, Little Howard. Their dad had a bit to drink while filling out their birth certificates.¡± The older Howard raised a hand, gesturing dismissively. ¡°Cut the crap!¡± Fordis shrugged and led Lance inside, gripping his arm to guide him through the back entrance. The back door opened into a spacious break room furnished with sofas, chairs, small tables, dartboards, a pinball machine, and a pool table. Several people lounged around, their casual movements causing the old wooden floor to creak. Many of them greeted Fordis, and he responded casually, but their eyes were mostly on Lance, curious about the new face. People feared these men, but from Lance¡¯s experience, they were pretty easy to get along with¡ªuntil you triggered their ¡°switch.¡± Lance followed Fordis¡¯s lead, smiling and exchanging greetings as he wandered around, waving the cigarette Fordis had given him. ?§Ñ???¦¥s? ¡°New guy?¡± an older man asked, clearly liking Lance¡¯s youthful, clean-cut look and friendly demeanor. Fordis reimed his pack of cigarettes. ¡°The boss wants to see him.¡± The others fell silent, only wishing him luck. As they entered the Finance Company through a side door, the receptionist was busy with her makeup. She nced over when she heard them, and Fordis exined, ¡°The boss wants to see him.¡± She nodded and resumed her task. At the end of the hall, Fordis stopped at an office door but didn¡¯t go in. ¡°Good luck, Lance,¡± he said with genuine warmth. Fordis liked Lance, but all he could do now was hope for the best. Inside, the boss was watching the news. The Police chief was on screen, repeatedly warning the public against crime and boasting about the day¡¯s work¡ªhow many people they¡¯d detained, how many crimes they¡¯d thwarted. But when the city would truly stabilize remained unsaid. ¡°Watch the news?¡± the boss asked, gesturing without turning around for Lance to sit. ¡°Grab a drink at the bar if you want. I¡¯ll finish this segment first. And I think you smoke¡ªcigarettes are in the box.¡± Lance lit a cigarette and leaned against the table, his eyes following the screen. At the end of the broadcast, the chief pledged his best efforts to restore order in Jingang City. To Lance¡¯s surprise, he noticed the same officer who¡¯d once shaken down the bakery owner, standing right behind the chief. ¡°What¡¯s that guy¡¯s role?¡± Lance asked, pointing at the screen. The boss looked a bit surprised but obliged. ¡°That¡¯s John. Don¡¯t let the name fool you¡ªhe goes by ¡®Vulture.¡¯ They recently made him Assistant Commissioner. Not a good guy, by any means.¡± Everyone in their circle knew who took bribes and who didn¡¯t, so hearing a loan shark call a crooked cop a ¡°bad guy¡± had an ironic ring to it. When the broadcast ended, the boss turned around and motioned for Lance to sit down. ¡°I forgot to introduce myselfst time. I¡¯m Alberto Corti. Call me Alberto, or Mr. Corti.¡± Lance nodded. Alberto touched his lips thoughtfully. ¡°I¡¯ve been following the news. Heard there was arge sh at the docks yesterday. Seems like your people aren¡¯t allowed to work there anymore?¡± ¡°It¡¯s temporary,¡± Lance exined. Of course, he owed it to Mr. Corti to rify things and offer reassurance. Alberto chuckled without exnation, then sighed. ¡°These outsiders have made a mess of the city, and we¡¯re short-staffed.¡± ¡°You made me a promise earlier¡ªthat if I needed, you¡¯d work for me. Is that still good?¡± Lance was surprised but not entirely. ¡°Of course, Mr. Corti. My promise stands anytime.¡± ¡°But¡­¡± Lance hesitated. ¡°Given the situation outside, some things might be a little difficult to manage.¡± Alberto raised a hand, stopping him. ¡°I¡¯m not stupid. I know what kind of work to assign you.¡± ¡°I have two ounts here. Both guys are trying to skip out. Can you collect what they owe me?¡± ¡°If you can handle these two, then I¡¯ll clear the debt you owe me.¡± Lance didn¡¯t agree immediately. ¡°How much do they owe?¡± Alberto pulled two loan contracts from a drawer and tossed them on the desk. Lance picked them up, noticing the contracts were very formal, likely drawn up with a legal advisor¡¯s help. One borrower had taken a loan of a thousand dors, now worth thirty-five hundred with interest. The other had borrowed two thousand, now totaling five thousand. Lance whistled softly. There was no business more profitable than high-interest loans. ¡°Before I decide, Mr. Corti, do they actually have the money to pay?¡± Alberto spread his hands. ¡°Of course they do. If you can¡¯t squeeze it out of them, just bring them here. That¡¯ll count as a job done.¡± ¡°So, what¡¯s your answer?¡± Chapter 18: First Earnings Chapter 18: First Earnings The chips were new, round, and smooth, with denominations of twenty, fifty, and a hundred. Lance wasn¡¯t entirely sure if they could be considered cash. He told Ethan to keep an eye on Mr. White and took two chips downstairs to a payphone, dialing the number Fordis had given him. Soon, the receptionist¡¯s sweet voice came through, ¡°Thank you for calling Lianzu Finance. How may we help you?¡± Lance could imagine her speaking in a disinterested tone while doing something unrted. ¡°It¡¯s Lance. I need to speak with Mr. Corti, or Fordis would do.¡± Recognizing Lance, her tone shifted sharply, and she shouted, ¡°Fordis, phone for you!¡± Heavy footsteps approached, and soon Fordis¡¯s voice was on the line. ¡°Having trouble?¡± he asked. Fordis assumed Lance¡¯s call meant things hadn¡¯t gone smoothly. Maybe Mr. White was missing, or simply refusing to pay up. He¡¯d seen plenty of first-timers run into these issues before.But he was wrong. ¡°Mr. White agreed to pay, but only with chips. I¡¯m not sure if they¡¯re worth the full amount.¡± Lance described the chips¡¯ appearance and the small print on the back: ¡°It says ¡®Kodak Family¡¯ on them.¡± Fordisughed, ¡°No problem at all. Kodak Family chips can be cashed in at their counters with no proof needed.¡± He paused, curiosity getting the best of him. ¡°How¡¯d you get him to pay up?¡± Thepany had sent people after this debt before, but they hadn¡¯t managed to collect. Otherwise, Lance wouldn¡¯t have been assigned to the case.n/?/vel/b//in dot c//om ¡°I reasoned with him. Mr. White¡¯s a reasonable guy, so he agreed to settle the debt.¡± ¡°Do I need to give him a receipt or the contract back?¡± ¡°No need, Lance. Bring the chips and contract back here. Thepany has people to handle the follow-up. Don¡¯t steal their job.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll pass the good news on to the boss. Quick work¡ªyou might just surprise us all!¡± Hanging up, Lance returned upstairs and, in front of Mr. White, counted out thirty-five hundred dors in chips. ¡°This is what you owe thepany, so I¡¯m taking it.¡± He nced at the remaining chips. ¡°The rest is yours. I¡¯m only taking what¡¯s due, and I despise rumors¡ªunderstand?¡± ????§à???? Sitting slumped on the couch, Mr. White nodded, looking defeated. ¡°Yes, I understand. I won¡¯t say anything.¡± ¡°Good,¡± Lance handed the paper bag of chips to Ethan. ¡°Sorry to have taken up your time, Mr. White. Have a nice day.¡± Mr. White looked anything but happy and was unlikely to enjoy the rest of his day. Leaving the apartment, the three of them headed back to thepany in high spirits. On the way, Elvin asked what had happened upstairs, and Friend A and Friend B were buzzing with excitement. Ethan was still giddy, saying, ¡°Just one re, and they ducked back inside like turtles pulling into their shells!¡± ¡°I thought someone would call the cops or try to stop us, but nothing happened!¡± Lance, steering the car, chimed in. ¡°That means the Federation citizens aren¡¯t as tough as we thought.¡± ¡°If you¡¯re weak and back down to them, they¡¯ll keep pushing you. But if you show you can hurt them and aren¡¯t afraid of their threats, they¡¯re no stronger than anyone else.¡± ¡°So, don¡¯t be scared of the Federation people. They¡¯re just like the cowards we know. If you¡¯re strong, they¡¯re weak.¡± ¡°If you ever find someone won¡¯t back down, it¡¯s not because they¡¯re unafraid¡ªit¡¯s because you¡¯re not fierce enough.¡± The words sank in, a powerful lesson that felt true and proven. Soon they arrived outside the Finance Company, and Lance led them inside, suggesting they rest in the lounge. But seeing the intimidating characters in the lounge, they opted to wait in the hallway instead. In the office, Lance set the paper bag on Alberto¡¯s desk, who opened it and quickly counted the chips, disying a meticulousness that left no room for error. He counted down to thest fifty-dor chip. ¡°Thirty-five hundred¡ªperfect!¡± he confirmed, looking at Lance with a nod. ¡°The White I know isn¡¯t exactly a reasonable man. Mind telling me how you convinced him?¡± Lance settled into the chair across from him, looking rxed. ¡°We started by talking about the Jingang City Sailors. Turns out he¡¯s a baseball fan, too. Then we chatted about cooking.¡± ¡°We foundmon ground, somunication got easier. I asked him where the money was, and he told me, ¡®In the flower pot.¡¯ Simple as that.¡± Albertoughed heartily. ¡°I bet he never wants to see you again!¡± He paused, then pulled out three fifty-dor chips from the stack, pushing them toward Lance. ¡°Here¡¯s your share.¡± Alberto knew White had the money; his own casino staff kept tabs on high-rollers. Gamblers rarely bargained over interest or repayment terms but only cared about getting enough chips to return to the table. Rumor had it White had recently won over four thousand dors at the Kodak Family casino, an amount equivalent to a hundred months¡¯ pay for a regr worker. The Finance Company¡¯s initial attempts to collect had failed because White wasn¡¯t liquid, but Alberto always believed that with enough persistence, he¡¯d get the money back. He hadn¡¯t expected it to happen so quickly¡ªLance had aplished it in half a day. ¡°I¡¯m excited about your next job, Lance,¡± Alberto said after a pause. ¡°We usually reward our agents five percent, and you¡¯ve earned it here. But this next task might be trickier than White¡¯s case.¡± Alberto exined the second ¡°job.¡± ¡°Mr. Anderson runs a restaurant in the Bay Area. Last year, he hit a rough patch financially and came to me for help.¡± ¡°Now, he denies ever signing a contract, refuses to pay interest or repay the principal, and has even sued us.¡± ¡°If we approach him directly or harm him, he¡¯ll file charges. Ourwyer says there¡¯s a high chance we¡¯d lose.¡± ¡°So this one¡¯s different from White¡¯s. You can¡¯t use force. Understand?¡± ¡°You can¡¯t hurt him¡ªnot even threaten him. You¡¯ll need to get creative.¡± ¡°If you can solve this, I¡¯ll double your reward.¡± ¡°No matter what you recover from him, I¡¯ll give you ten percent!¡± Alberto held up both hands to emphasize his excitement. Chapter 20: A Sleepless Night Chapter 20: A Sleepless Night ¡°Where¡¯s Johnny?¡± The apprentice rolled his eyes at the familiar, irritating voice and looked up at Lance. ¡°You can¡¯t just call him by his name. You should say ¡®boss¡¯ or ¡®sir!¡¯¡± ¡°And you missed tonight¡¯s peak hours. The boss is furious and says he¡¯s docking your pay¡ªa lot of it!¡± The apprentice smirked, his expression one of petty satisfaction. Though his own life was miserable¡ªover six months in the bakery, and all he¡¯d learned was kneading dough. The chubby boss was meticulous about protecting his recipes. The apprentice knew the basic ingredients but had no idea about proportions or the sequence. His time had been spentboring over dough, shaping loaves, and putting them in the oven. Beyond that, he¡¯d learned nothing. Despite this, he carried an inexplicable sense of superiority, especially toward Lance. Teasing Lance was his twisted way of finding sce, though ever since his mother¡¯s humiliating visit, his sense of superiority had started to crumble. Still, his habit of mocking Lance persisted.Lance didn¡¯t bother taking the apprentice¡¯s words to heart. Instead, he delivered a verbal punch. ¡°Just because he slept with your mom doesn¡¯t make him your dad. If I were your dad, I¡¯d be disappointed in you¡ªhe hasn¡¯t even earned the title based on frequency!¡± The apprentice froze, stunned by the venomouseback.n/?/vel/b//jn dot c//om Lance walked past him, tossing another barb over his shoulder. ¡°Better mop that floor before he shows up, or your mom might have to pay the price again.¡± The apprentice stood paralyzed, his face first red with rage and then pale. His life was indeed worse than it seemed. Six months at the bakery hadn¡¯t taught him anything useful, and the financial burden on his family was growing. His mother¡¯s recent visit had been a desperate plea to stop paying tuition fees. But the boss had refused, offering instead a degrading deal¡ªmonthly tuition would be waived in exchange for her providing¡­ services. She agreed, ensuring her son could stay, though the situation humiliated them both. The apprentice couldn¡¯t afford to leave now. The sunk costs of his family¡¯s money and sacrifices were too great. He was desperate to learn something useful, to prove their efforts hadn¡¯t been in vain. Lance knocked on the boss¡¯s door, and it opened to reveal Johnny in a tattered undershirt. Upon seeing Lance, his face twisted with anger. ¡°You little worm! Missing peak hours tonight? I¡¯m docking three dors. And you owe me fifteen already¡ªstarting today, I¡¯m charging you interest¡­¡± Lance cut him off. ¡°I quit.¡± ¡°What did you just say?¡± Johnny¡¯s voice rose. ¡°You¡¯re quitting? Hah!¡± Heughed derisively. ¡°Who else would hire an illegal immigrant? The whole city¡¯s against you Empire thieves and criminals. Nobody will give you a decent job but me!¡± Despite his mockery, Lance could see a flicker of unease. ¡°I¡¯ve worked about a week this month, plusst month¡¯s wages. Just pay me twenty dors, and we¡¯re even,¡± Lance said calmly. Johnny¡¯s voice rose again. ¡°Are you kidding me?¡± Then, dropping to a more conciliatory tone, he continued, ¡°I know you¡¯re upset, Lance, but this is your fault¡­¡± ¡°How about this? I won¡¯t charge you more, and I¡¯ll give you five dors forst month. Enough to save face with your friends. Let¡¯s not make this harder than it needs to be, okay?¡± ?a??¦¢¦¥? Lance shook his head and walked toward the exit. ¡°You disgust me, Johnny. When we meet again, I hope you still have this attitude.¡± As Lance headed out, Johnny followed, calling after him. ¡°Nobody works harder than you for free! Where am I supposed to find another one like you?¡± The apprentice watched their exchange from the front room. ¡°Get out of my way, you idiot! And mop that floor before bed, or you¡¯re out tomorrow!¡± Johnny barked, shoving past the apprentice. By the time he reached the street, Lance was already in his car. Johnny shouted, ¡°I¡¯ll report you for stealing from me!¡± Lance stared at him through the window, his gaze so calm it sent a chill down Johnny¡¯s spine. He fell silent, and Lance drove off. Johnny stood fuming on the sidewalk, muttering curses and wondering how he¡¯d find a new free worker. Returning to the bakery, he vented his frustration on the apprentice, spewing insults about his intelligence and his mother. Finally, Johnny stormed back to his room. The apprentice, red-eyed, clenched his fists so tightly his nails dug into his palms, yet he remained silent. Lance found a cheap inn near the docks. One dor a night, with limited hot water included. The wooden building smelled musty, amon problem for poorly maintained coastal structures. The soft bed felt unfamiliar, but the real challenge came after midnight. The surrounding rooms came alive with noises¡ªmoans and cries that grew louder as ifpeting. When one room quieted, another began. Lance sighed. Even at this hour, some people carried their burdens through life¡¯s thorny paths, struggling as best they could. Chapter 22: Independence Costs Four Hundred Bucks Chapter 22: Independence Costs Four Hundred Bucks Anderson sat on a chair in the back alley, smoking a cigarette. He enjoyed these brief moments of calm after the rush. For the past two years, business in Jingang City hadn¡¯t been as easy as it seemed. The whole Federation, and even the entire world, knew that Jingang City was crafting an economic miracle. Countless "adventurers" and "gold seekers" came here from all over the globe. The mostmon arrivals? Illegal immigrants. At this point in time, the Federation had thirty-six states and hundreds of cities. Yet the vast majority of these immigrants chose Jingang City as their destination, which said a lot about the city¡¯s appeal. If not for the thick scent of money wafting through the air, what could have drawn them across oceans toe here? Were they really here to help build the Federation¡¯s infrastructure? No. They all came seeking their own miracles. The massive influx of people from all walks of life had intensified thepetition in Jingang City, shing profits and introducing countless challenges.Last year, Anderson¡¯s restaurant faced a few setbacks. First, his business partner left him, forcing Anderson to spend all his remaining money to buy out the partner''s shares and gain full ownership of the restaurant. Then, his wife suffered an ident and was injured. The insurancepany refused to cover her expenses, iming she had failed to disclose her slightly elevated blood pressure when purchasing the policy.n/?/vel/b//in dot c//om Without proof that her hypertension had developed after she got the insurance, thepany argued that her undisclosed condition directly contributed to the ident. Anderson fought them in court but ultimately lost. The most infuriating part? The insurance payout was supposed to be around $8,000. Yet, thepany spent over $10,000 fighting him in court just to avoid paying. In the end, not only did Anderson fail to receivepensation, but he also had to cover his wife¡¯s medical bills and legal fees himself. At that point, he waspletely out of money. He tried applying for a bank loan, but since he¡¯d just lost awsuit, the bank gged his application as risky. They told him it would take at least a month to process the loan. Anderson couldn¡¯t wait that long. He needed cash immediately to keep the restaurant afloat and cover family expenses. So, he abandoned the bank loan idea. Through a friend, he approached several financepanies. But these greedy hyenas sought to devour his assets, offering just a few thousand bucks in exchange for shares in his restaurant. ??N???s Eventually, he found apany called Fordis Finance. Although their interest rates were slightly high, they didn¡¯t ask for coteral or covet his restaurant. After a year of hard work, the restaurant began to recover. Recently, his new manager suggested a series of marketing strategies that kept the ce bustling with customers. Just that morning, Anderson had spent $400 to purchase ad space in Jingang Daily and was nning to rent the shop next door to expand his business. Though he¡¯d received several calls reminding him to repay the principal and stop-rued interest owed to Fordis, he had no intention of doing so. Expanding the restaurant required money. Marketing required money. Anderson dreamed of living avish life in hister years, supported by the restaurant¡¯s sess. At this critical moment, he couldn¡¯t afford to entertain Alberto, that money-hungry scumbag. He had only borrowed $2,000, but now they were demanding $5,000 in return. Anderson found the interest rates outrageous and refused to pay. He was even ready to take the matter to court. As hiswyer had assured him, there was no need to worry. Fordis Finance might threaten legal action, but the cost of pursuing awsuit would far exceed any potential recovery. And if they tried anything illegal, Anderson could sue them directly and potentially win damages. So, all he needed to do was stall. With hiswyer¡¯s assurances, Anderson had no intention of repaying the $5,000. ¡°I borrowed that money fair and square. Why should I have to pay it back?¡± This mentality ismon among those who refuse to repay debts. While contemting how to negotiate for the property next door, his manager suddenly came rushing in. ¡°Mr. Anderson, there¡¯s been a situation in the restaurant.¡± Anderson turned to him. ¡°Someone¡¯s boots catch fire?¡± He was implying the manager was making too big a fuss, but the manager didn¡¯t have time for jokes. ¡°A customer found a cockroach in their soup. Worse, they bit it in half and spat it everywhere¡­¡± Anderson froze for a moment, then quickly stood up, dropped his cigarette, and hurried into the restaurant. When he arrived, his blood pressure spiked. The sour stench of vomit hung in the air, making it impossible for most customers to continue eating. People crowded around a particr table, whispering amongst themselves. On the table was a pristine white napkin holding two halves of a cockroach. Judging by the pieces, they could easily be reassembled into a whole insect. Anderson had spent his entire life in the restaurant industry. From apprentice to chef, and eventually head chef at a renowned establishment, he had worked his way up. A few years ago, he¡¯d saved enough money to open his own restaurant, where he served as both head chef and owner. To him, this restaurant was more important than life itself. Having dealt with various restaurant-rted crises in his younger years, Anderson knew how to handle situations like this. As he instructed staff to clean up the vomit, he approached Lance, intending to wrap the cockroach pieces in a napkin. But Lance blocked him. ¡°Trying to destroy evidence?¡± The scrutinizing gazes from the crowd made Anderson¡¯s scalp tingle. ¡°I just want to resolve the issue,¡± Anderson said calmly. ¡°If you don¡¯t mind, we can discuss this in my office. I¡¯m sure we cane to an agreement.¡± It was obvious he was offering money to settle things quietly, and Lance saw right through it. He raised his voice, ¡°You think I¡¯m trying to extort you?¡± ¡°My friend and I came here to eat, and now there¡¯s a cockroach in our soup. And you think we¡¯re extortionists?¡± ¡°If you truly want to address this, you should do so here, in front of everyone. After all, we might not be the only victims¡ªothers may just not know it yet.¡± Lance¡¯s words caused Anderson¡¯s expression to shift, and the spectators¡¯ faces grew uneasy. If a cockroach had made its way into someone¡¯s soup, could it mean their utensils or food had also been exposed to roaches? Some customers began voicingints, demanding the health department be called to inspect the restaurant. A public health scandal could spell disaster for any restaurant¡ªespecially one that had just bought ad space. Though it seemed inevitable that the incident would spread, Anderson still hoped to minimize the damage. He shot a re at the two young kitchen staff responsible for cleanliness, silently cursing them. Leaning close to his manager, he whispered instructions. The manager then stepped forward to address the crowd. ¡°We deeply apologize for today¡¯s incident. Mr. Anderson has decided that all meals today will beplimentary¡­¡± Meanwhile, Anderson noticed Elvin¡¯s attire. He didn¡¯t look like someone who could afford to dine at such an upscale establishment. This strengthened Anderson¡¯s suspicion that the two were here to cause trouble. With this thought, Anderson even began to doubt whether the cockroach hade from his kitchen. However, now was not the time to debate whether the pair were scammers. He needed to focus on resolving the immediate hygiene and trust crisis. Lowering his voice, Anderson said, ¡°I¡¯ll pay you $100 to end this here.¡± ¡°I know who you are and what you¡¯re trying to do. $100 is generous. Don¡¯t push me.¡± Elvin, still gagging, managed to retort, ¡°$100 can¡¯t buy my integrity!¡± Lance stood silently, showing no intention ofpromising. Anderson took a deep breath. ¡°$200. That¡¯s my final offer¡­¡± ¡°$500.¡± ¡°This is ckmail. Extortion! Aren¡¯t you afraid I¡¯ll call the police?¡± Lance patted Elvin¡¯s back and said calmly, ¡°You¡¯re scaring me. Now I don¡¯t even want a single penny¡­¡± Elvin gagged again, even louder this time. Grinding his teeth, Anderson finally relented. ¡°$400.¡± ¡°Deal!¡± Lance stepped aside, and Anderson used the napkin to bundle the cockroach remains, stuffing them into his pocket. Meanwhile, the manager smoothed things over with the other diners. ¡°These two individuals have been incredibly unreasonable,¡± he exined. ¡°They¡¯ve gone far beyond what we expected. But the restaurant sincerely apologizes for today¡¯s events. All meals today are free of charge.¡± He then handed out signed cards to each diner. ¡°Next time you visit, present this card for aplimentary bottle of wine valued at $10,¡± he said. The wine, listed on the menu at $9.99, cost the restaurant less than $5 wholesale. The manager knew that offering a free bottle of wine would likely lead customers to order $20 or more in food, ensuring the restaurant still made a profit. Most diners epted his exnation, though a few remained skeptical. When they saw the two customers leave with Anderson, they assumed the matter had been resolved. But in truth, it wasn¡¯t over yet¡­ Chapter 24: The True Treasure in Life Is Growing Together Chapter 24: The True Treasure in Life Is Growing Together "Uncle Bolton, I heard this apartment is owned by you and not rented. Is that true?" Lance nced at the ss of water on the table, showing no intention of touching it. Mr. Bolton kept waiting expectantly for him to take a sip, ready to confirm his point with something like, "See? Didn¡¯t I tell you? The tap water here is odorless and even sweet!" Lance needed to change the subject, and when he spoke, he chose a topic Mr. Bolton couldn¡¯t ignore. Bolton¡¯s lips curled into an uncontroble smile. The tension in his facial muscles, meant to keep a serious expression, broke down into a less formal grin. His desire for Lance to validate his ims about the tap water was forgotten. ¡°Gerald told you about that?¡± ¡°It seems you two really are close friends!¡± He took a deep breath, his tone carrying a subtle sense of pride, as if to say, Well, since you¡¯ve found out, I might as well admit it. ¡°Yes, that¡¯s right. I own this apartment.¡±¡°You probably don¡¯t know what I went through when I first arrived here. But no matter what, I¡¯ve grown alongside this city, and it has given me its greatest gifts in return.¡± ¡°I bought a home, got married¡ªalthough we divorcedter¡ªsecured insurance, and have a work card. I no longer worry about soldiers of the Emperor dragging me out of bed in the middle of the night, handing me a faulty rifle, and forcing me to swear loyalty to the royal family.¡± ¡°All I need to do here is work hard and earn my pay!¡± He chuckled a few times before continuing, ¡°I¡¯m not trying to brag, Lance. This is the Federation Dream. It came into my life, and I hope it can do the same for you.¡± ¡°Work hard, endure, persevere¡ªthis society will reward you for it. If it hasn¡¯t yet, it just means the reward willeter. No matter howte, it wille. This is the Federation!¡± ¡°Put in the effort, and you¡¯ll reap the rewards!¡± he concluded with a fervent expression, like a preacher extolling the virtues of hard work to a group of farmers. It left Lance slightly nauseous. ¡°You truly are an incredible person!¡± Lance replied insincerely, throwing in apliment that made Bolton burst into heartyughter. He enjoyed sharing his ¡°sess stories¡± and basked in the joy of boasting about his achievements. At that moment, he was thoroughly satisfied. ¡°You can achieve the same. Buy your own property here, build your life, and get your immigration status,¡± Bolton dered. ¡°All you need is to work steadily toward your goals!¡± He paused to wipe away the white flecks of saliva umting at the corners of his mouth from talking too much. ¡°By the way, I haven¡¯t asked yet¡ªwhat do you do for work, Lance?¡± Bolton gave Lance a pointed look, scanning him from head to toe as if assessing his outfit, which looked rather expensive. Lance maintained a polite smile. ¡°I work for some locals. It¡¯s not traditional employment. I handle difficult situations for them, and they pay me in return.¡± Bolton¡¯s expression, which had been warm and expressive, suddenly grew less lively. Most ordinary workers, who willingly subjected themselves to the exploitation of capitalists, were not fond of the kind of work Lance described. It represented instability and risk, a far cry from the secure life Bolton valued. ?a????¨º? The atmosphere grew slightly tense, but it wasn¡¯t entirely Bolton¡¯s fault. Most regr people preferred to avoid any association with underworld affairs. ¡°That¡¯s good,¡± Bolton replied perfunctorily, ncing pointedly at the clock hanging on the door to the bedroom, clearly wanting Lance to leave. Feigning obliviousness, Lance continued, ¡°I haven¡¯t been here long, so I¡¯m not too familiar with Jingang City.¡± ¡°Uncle Bolton, since you¡¯ve lived here for so long, you must know the localmunity well. Could you tell me about the lives of Imperial immigrants in this area?¡± Bolton hesitated, but perhaps out of consideration for Gerald¡¯s friendship with Lance, he eventually relented. ¡°There are about 30,000 Imperial immigrants here with identity cards. The rest¡­ are illegal immigrants.¡± ¡°Those of us with identity cards gather at St. Naya¡¯s Cathedral on weekends.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve heard of other gathering spots, but I haven¡¯t been to them myself.¡± After a moment¡¯s thought, he added, ¡°Since you¡¯re close with Gerald, here¡¯s some advice: avoid the Camille Gang.¡± When Lance pressed him for details about the Camille Gang, Bolton mmed up. He also indicated that it was gettingte and he had work to do, leaving Lance with no choice but to bid him farewell. Although Lance didn¡¯t meet Gerald, he had gained some insight into the lives of Imperial immigrants in the area. As for the Camille Gang, Lance wasn¡¯t sure what they were involved in, but he already had a theory: The deadliest wounds oftene from the least expected people. People remain wary and cautious around enemies, but when dealing with their own, they lower their guard¡ªleaving an opening to be stabbed right in the heart. Fortunately, the weekend was just a day away. In the meantime, Anderson could stew over whether he wanted to settle his debts. That afternoon, Lance went to thepany. Although he had assured Elvin that selling out Mr. Coti wouldn¡¯t be a problem, he still felt the need to inform the man. When Lance arrived, the staff greeted him warmly. Competent individuals are weed and valued everywhere, and even the receptionist painting her toenails at the front desk looked up and greeted Lance with a casual ¡°Hi.¡± Fordis wasn¡¯t there, having gone out for work. Lance headed straight to Mr. Coti¡¯s office, where he found him on the phone. To avoid being rude, Lance waited at the door until he was invited in. ¡°Sorry, the call took longer than expected¡ªit¡¯s the end of the month.¡± The second quarter was nearing its close, and the third quarter was approaching. This was a busy period for financepanies and banks, as they scrambled to tidy up their ounts to appease investors and shareholders. Much of the work involved short-term loans¡ªovernight, three-day, five-day, or weekly arrangements¡ªoffering high interest rates. Coti had just finalized a one-week loan. He lent out $200,000, and the borrower would repay $215,000 with interest after seven days. It seemed like a modest profit, but $15,000 for a single week was substantial. Thepany was reputable, with adequate coteral, and they signed a legally binding loan agreement. In fact, Coti almost hoped the borrower wouldn¡¯t repay, as it would allow him to legally seize their assets through the courts. He was in high spirits. ¡°Sit down. Anderson called me. You did an excellent job,¡± he said, offering Lance a cigarette from a pack. ¡°On the phone, he cursed more filthily than the dirtiest w I¡¯ve ever met. I¡¯m a little annoyed.¡± ¡°I¡¯m debating whether to recover the money or to focus on venting my anger. Lance, what¡¯s your take?¡± Having secured his first job and even prompted Anderson to call him, Lance¡¯s capabilities had already impressed Coti. Curious, Coti wanted to hear Lance¡¯s perspective. Lance barely hesitated before replying, ¡°No one in their right mind turns down money. If I were you, Mr. Coti, I¡¯d take back what¡¯s mine first¡ªthen make sure to vent my frustration.¡± Coti pped his hands, clearly pleased with Lance¡¯s answer. ¡°You¡¯re right. I won¡¯t say no to money¡­¡± He pondered for a moment before asking, ¡°What¡¯s your follow-up n?¡± Lance didn¡¯t hold back. ¡°Mr. Anderson cares deeply about his restaurant, so I n to keep targeting it.¡±n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om Chapter 26: Another Incident Chapter 26: Another Incident ¡°Who¡¯s that?¡± In another corner, seven or eight teenagers surrounded a young man in his early twenties, wearing a baseball cap. It was clear that he was the center of this small group. A younger boy whispered, ¡°I heard his name is Lance, an illegal immigrant from Balman State.¡± ¡°He imed he just finished a job that paid him 200 bucks. That¡¯s why Rob got into a fight with him earlier¡ªso annoying.¡± Balman State wasn¡¯t exactly a prosperous region in the Empire. Its economy was primarily agricultural, and although there were developed cities, they couldn¡¯tpare to the bustling imperial capital. Here in the Empire, most permanent residents who had obtained citizenship came from affluent areas like the capital. Only these individuals could smoothly secure permanent residency and citizenship. So when Lance¡¯s hometown was mentioned, the youngest boy didn¡¯t seem very impressed. ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter where he¡¯s from. As long as he¡¯s at odds with Rob, we can be friends.¡±¡°And about that 200-buck job? We can go hear what he has to say.¡± ¡°Maybe get to know him, too.¡± Rob wasn¡¯t particrly popr around here. He had inherited Mr. Bolton¡¯s shrewdness and snobbishness, butcked the tact to conceal those traits. He often mocked or ridiculed the poor, people he looked down upon, giving off an air of superiority. Yet, when it came to children from wealthy or socially prominent families, he acted like apdog, wagging his tail and saying ttering things. This behavior only made people dislike him more, whether they were the ones he looked down on or the ones he tried to ingratiate himself with. Of course, while people didn¡¯t like Rob, it wasn¡¯t to the extent of outright hatred. They just found him unpleasant, which exined why he was still tolerated here. As the group approached Lance, they overheard him speaking. ¡°I¡¯ve got a job that needs doing, and I¡¯d rather not let anyone else take this opportunity. Naturally, I thought of us first.¡± The young man in the baseball cap interrupted, ¡°Can I ask what kind of job it is?¡± ¡°And how much you¡¯re offering for it?¡± Lance turned to face him¡ªa clean-cut young man, about 1.73 to 1.75 meters tall. In this era, that was considered quite tall. He had a lean build and wore a white shirt, dark trousers, and suspenders. His shoes, though slightly worn, were polished to a shine, and he had a gray baseball cap. ???¦­????¨¨?? Lance often wondered why people wore hats in such hot weather. It wasn¡¯t just him; many adults and pedestrians wore hats. Didn¡¯t they feel the heat? Meeting Lance¡¯s gaze, the man in the cap extended his hand. ¡°Ennio, from Dokkan.¡± Lance shook his hand, smiling. ¡°Lance, from Balman State.¡± They quickly let go, and Ennio asked, ¡°I heard you have a good job for us?¡± ¡°That¡¯s right.¡± ¡°Can you tell us more about it, and how much it pays?¡± The surrounding teenagers were all curious, otherwise, they wouldn¡¯t have gathered around. Even though most of them had permanent residency and citizenship, that didn¡¯t mean they were wealthy or middle ss. People like Mr. Bolton, living in cramped apartments in the slums, represented the majority of these immigrants. Bankers like Mr. Jobav were exceptions¡ªperhaps two or three out of tens of thousands. Most people still longed to earn more money. ¡°I¡¯m not sure if you¡¯re familiar with the kind of work I do. Basically, I solve problems for people, and they pay me for it.¡± ¡°I can guarantee it¡¯s not illegal, though there might be minorplications.¡± ¡°This job only takes a day¡ªfrom 10 a.m. to around 8 p.m. No physicalbor involved. You¡¯ll just sit in one ce without leaving midway.¡±n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om ¡°I¡¯m offering¡­¡± He could feel everyone holding their breath. He raised one hand, spreading his fingers. ¡°Five bucks!¡± A muffled gasp escaped from someone. Earning five bucks in one day? That¡¯s 150 bucks a month! Even Ennio¡¯s breathing grew heavy. He needed money, and there weren¡¯t many people here who didn¡¯t. ¡°How many days can we do this job? And when will we get paid?¡± Seeing more people gathering around, Lance patiently exined, ¡°It¡¯s a one-day gig, but there might be more opportunities in the future.¡± ¡°You¡¯ll get paid right after the job¡ªno dys.¡± ¡°Like I said, this money could go to anyone. Why wouldn¡¯t I offer it to my own brothers first?¡± He nced at the girls nearby and added with a grin, ¡°And sisters.¡± The girls giggled, finding Lance amusing. It wasn¡¯tmon to meet someone who spoke so candidly and cheerfully. Ennio pressed further, ¡°What exactly does the job involve?¡± ¡°Enjoying some food¡­¡± Initially, Lance had considered hiring a few homeless people. But he quickly realized they wouldn¡¯t even get past the restaurant¡¯s manager. Providing them with appropriate clothing would not only increase costs but also fail to achieve the intended goal of annoying Mr. Anderson. It was simpler to hire ordinary people. Giving this job to second-generation immigrants seemed like a better idea. They had legal status, and the task wasn¡¯t illegal¡ªat most, they¡¯d get a scolding. It also helped Lance build a reputation among immigrants as someone resourceful, achieving multiple goals at once. Soon, enough young people were eager to participate. While earning money was one motivation, most were intrigued by Lance¡¯s ns. --- The next morning, Mr. Anderson was very satisfied with the ingredients he¡¯d prepared. The purpose of recruiting apprentices was simple¡ªto get the most work done for the least pay. Unlike the fat boss Johnny, who not only refused to pay apprentices but made them pay him, Mr. Anderson offered each apprentice a sry of 15 bucks. However, they practically lived in the restaurant, with no days off. Starting at 6 a.m. and working until 10 p.m., they spent nearly every moment working unless the restaurant had no customers. Despite the harsh conditions, many scrambled for the chance to be apprentices. Mr. Anderson himself was a testament to starting as an apprentice and rising to be a restaurant owner. Both the apprentices and their families believed they could learn real skills here and eventually achieve middle-ss status like Mr. Anderson. After inspecting the ingredients, it was almost 10 a.m. Weekend lunch hours started a bitter, around noon, andsted until 2 or 3 p.m. Dinner preparations would then begin at 5 p.m. Every weekend was the restaurant¡¯s most profitable time, and Mr. Anderson hoped to earn even more today for his future expansion ns. At precisely 10 a.m., the manager greeted customers at the door. Mr. Anderson thought it was a bit early, but who cared about the time as long as customers were paying? Soon, a waiter brought in an order. The kitchen staff were ready for a busy day, but when they saw the menu, they were dumbfounded. The total was just 1.99 bucks. A 99-cent breadbasket and a one-dor mixed sd. The breadbasket contained a pound of bread, enough to fill two or three people. The mixed sd, a best-seller, featured crunchy vegetables and tender shredded meat, tossed in a tangy, sweet sauce¡ªa refreshing appetizer. However, it was rare for someone to order it alone. Upon inquiry, they learned the customer was alone. While it was enough food for one, Mr. Anderson had seen this type before¡ªpeople wanting to experience a high-end restaurant but too broke to afford it. He didn¡¯tment, simply instructing the staff to maintain the quality of the dishes. No cking just because the customer spent less. After an early start and a busy peak period, Mr. Anderson felt drowsy. He informed the manager and retreated to the lounge for a quick nap. He didn¡¯t know how long he¡¯d been asleep when loud knocking startled him awake. Sitting up abruptly, he stared nkly for a moment before heading to the door. ¡°Are we short-staffed?¡± he asked, grabbing an apron from the wall. ¡°I¡¯ll help out right away.¡± The manager, however, looked frantic. ¡°There¡¯s trouble out front!¡± Chapter 28: A Smelly Day Chapter 28: A Smelly Day Monday morning, Mr. Anderson was up early, and so were the apprentices, cooks, and waitstaff¡ªhe¡¯d demanded everyone arrive earlier than usual. The previous night, he had hired someone to make arge sign: - Due to high demand, the maximum dining time is two hours. Customers exceeding this limit may be asked to settle their bill and leave. - Single diners may be required to share tables during busy hours. N?v(el)B\\jnn - The restaurant reserves the right to refuse service to suspicious individuals. The sign was prominently disyed at the entrance, and Mr. Anderson kept a watchful eye on it throughout the day. To his relief, Lance didn¡¯t appear, and nothing unusual happened. For most people, Monday was an important day¡ªoffice workers received their weekly assignments, factory employees resumed production lines after a weekend break, and dockworkers busily handled the influx of goods following the weekend¡¯s inventory checks. The restaurant saw only four tables by noon, amounting to less than 60 bucks. While this was a mid-to-high-end restaurant, not all the food was expensive. For example, a breadbasket, a main course (perhaps a simple fish-and-beefbo or a regr steak), and a starter soup would total no more than 10 bucks.Mid-to-high-end restaurants like Mr. Anderson¡¯s allowed diners to spend modestly or extravagantly, depending on their preferences. By evening, business was slightly better, with nine tables bringing in 133 bucks. Calcting gross profits, they had barely broken even, losing around 10 to 20 bucks. Mondays were always like this, so Mr. Anderson wasn¡¯t surprised. Lance¡¯s threats from the previous day seemed like empty boasts. As the day passed without incident, Mr. Anderson let his guard down slightly. What he didn¡¯t know was that Lance, fully aware of Monday¡¯s slower business, had scheduled the ¡°next round¡± for Tuesday. --- On Tuesday morning, Mr. Anderson was up early again. Tuesdays often saw more dining groups¡ªworkers catching up after the weekend, chatting about where they¡¯d gone, and sharing a meal to strengthen bonds. By 11 a.m., the restaurant had a couple of tables upied, and everything seemed normal. Feeling optimistic, Mr. Anderson grabbed a cloth and gave the sign at the entrance a good wipe. Meanwhile, across the street in a shadowed alley, Lance stood at the corner, watching Mr. Anderson and his restaurant. ¡°It¡¯s that one¡­ the guy cleaning the sign,¡± Lance confirmed, before turning to face the group beside him: a band of homeless individuals. Each of them emitted a strong, unpleasant odor. The previous night, Lance had treated them to a hearty meal¡ªbeef, pork, and refined carbs. These foods,bined with a powerfulxative mixed into their drinks, ensured that what they expelled today would be nothing short of atrocious. This morning, he¡¯d also given them additional watery gruel to maximize the effect. Seeing it was nearly time for the lunchtime rush, Lance handed the first homeless man a cup of waterced withxatives. ¡°Go to the restaurant¡¯s entrance. Do your business right there. Then head to the alley we agreed upon, where you¡¯ll receive two bucks.¡± ¡°If you make it extra disgusting, I¡¯ll add another dor,¡± he added, addressing the group. ¡°The same goes for the rest of you¡ªtwo bucks, with a bonus for exceptional performance.¡± The first homeless man, nearly fifty, with matted hair crawling with tiny roaches, grinned. His dark, grimy face made it impossible to discern whether he¡¯d ever been anything but filthy. ?¨¤??B?? ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Mr. Lance. I¡¯ll make sure they remember this day every time they eat!¡± He thumped his chest and grinned, revealing his yellowed, rotting teeth. Lance appreciated his enthusiasm. The man downed thexative in one gulp, then stood quietly. Roughly ten minutester, he clutched his stomach. ¡°It¡¯s happening, Mr. Lance! I gotta go!¡± Lance handed a second dose to the next man, just as two tables of customers entered the restaurant. --- Mr. Anderson was finally starting to rx. The day felt calm, and he believed it would remain uneventful. He retreated to the break room for a much-needed rest after two days of early mornings,te nights, and stress. Just as he was about to lie down, he heard the manager shouting outside. Startled, Mr. Anderson leaped up and dashed to the entrance. The moment he stepped outside, a horrendous stench nearly knocked him unconscious. Under the scorching sun, the smell was even more unbearable. In front of the restaurant, a homeless man was arguing with the manager while smearing feces onto the freshly cleaned sign. ¡°Why isn¡¯t this being cleaned up?!¡± Mr. Anderson bellowed, gagging as he watched the man smear excrement. He almost vomited on the spot. ¡°Call the police¡­ ugh¡­ call the police!¡± Hearing this, the homeless man bolted, letting out a fart as he fled and leaving another foul pile near the entrance. Across the street, three potential customers paused, took one look at the mess, and crossed over to a different restaurant. Mr. Anderson shouted in fury as the apprentices hauled out buckets of water to clean the area, scrubbing furiously. ¡°It all happened so fast,¡± the manager stammered, trembling as he recounted the incident. ¡°He just ran up, dropped his pants, and then¡­ boom! I thought his guts would explode!¡± Though the area was eventually cleaned, the smell lingered, causing another table of guests to leave. The manager, now visibly anxious, asked, ¡°Do you think this is part of their new trick?¡± Mr. Anderson frowned, unsettled. ¡°Hire a couple more waitstaff to keep an eye out. If another homeless person approaches, don¡¯t let them near¡­¡± Before he could finish, another homeless man sprinted across the street. Like the first, he dropped his pants mid-run. This one, however, turned to face the restaurant, aiming his bare behind directly at them. Pedestrians were frozen in shock. The apprentice closest to the scene turned slowly before vomiting violently. Mr. Anderson gagged, cursing profusely. ¡°That son of a b! It has to be that scoundrel¡¯s doing!¡± By the end of the day, Mr. Anderson¡¯s patience was stretched thin. He hadn¡¯t seen Lance once but knew in his gut that this chaos was orchestrated by him. Chapter 30: The Final Strike Chapter 30: The Final Strike By midday, the stench still lingered around the restaurant, attracting a crowd of curious onlookers. In the Federation, people nevercked a sense of schadenfreude. Watching someone else face misfortune or humiliation often gave them a strange, inward satisfaction. The restaurant only served three tables during lunch, and those customers left with harshints. The awful smell had ruined their meals, and they vowed never to return. To appease them, the manager waived their bills and handed out wine vouchers to use on their next visit. The manager, ever the marketing expert, understood human nature. Despite their vows never to return, as long as they held those vouchers, they inevitably would. If one thing defined Federation citizens, it was their love for a good bargain. --- Shortly after 1 p.m., the manager decided to close the restaurant for the day. He stationed two apprentices with hoses at the entrance. Their task wasn¡¯t to prevent defecation attempts but to clean up immediately afterward.Why escte the situation further? Better to let them do their business and minimize the fallout. Inside the break room, Mr. Anderson was slouched in his chair, the ashtray in front of him overflowing with cigarette butts. Though he wasn¡¯t a heavy smoker, the stress of the past few days had pushed him toward it. A knock on the door interrupted his haze. He nced up to see the manager, who entered without waiting for an invitation. ¡°We need to talk about your debt,¡± the manager said directly, offering Anderson a cigarette. Anderson¡¯s face darkened, a mix of shame and irritation shing across it. But before he could respond, the manager pressed on. ¡°If the restaurant can¡¯t operate properly, I¡¯ll resign next week.¡± Anderson¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°I¡¯m grateful for the opportunity you gave me to manage such a fine restaurant,¡± the manager continued, his tone firm. ¡°My job is to make it shine under my leadership. But right now, your personal decisions are directly sabotaging the business. That conflicts with my purpose here.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t have enough money to pay off the debt,¡± Anderson said after a long sigh. ¡°It¡¯s almost half a year¡¯s earnings.¡± Since the manager had taken over, the restaurant had started turning a modest profit of four to five thousand dors. Most of it had gone toward repaying other debts and reinvestments to build the restaurant¡¯s reputation. Anderson had less than two thousand left¡ªfar from enough to pay Alberto¡¯s demands. The manager, well-versed in the restaurant¡¯s finances, softened his voice. ¡°You could mortgage your house to the bank. With the restaurant¡¯s improved performance, the bank will approve a loan. They¡¯ll charge less interest than Alberto, and we could use the leftover funds to expand¡ªmaybe lease the space next door.¡± Anderson¡¯s house, a 200-square-meter standalone property on the city¡¯s outskirts, had been appraised at around $12,000st year. With proper paperwork, he could secure a loan of $7,000 to $8,500. But Anderson hesitated. The house carried sentimental value¡ªit was where he¡¯d been born, raised, and started his family. Sensing his reluctance, the manager stopped pushing. ¡°It¡¯s just a suggestion, Mr. Anderson. But you need to prepare for the worst. If this continues, you won¡¯t just lose your house. You¡¯ll lose the restaurant, your career, your dreams¡ªeverything.¡± The manager ced a reassuring hand on Anderson¡¯s shoulder before leaving the room. --- Outside, the closed restaurant seemed to deter any further defecation incidents, much to the manager¡¯s relief. The sheer absurdity of the tactic¡ªcrude and childish¡ªwas undeniable, but so was its effectiveness. ???¦­????? No one wanted to eat with such sights and smells lingering nearby. Even if they could stomach it, they wouldn¡¯t risk walking through contaminated areas to dine. As the manager stood outside, his eyes caught sight of Lance¡¯s car parked across the street. After sending the apprentices home for the afternoon, he crossed the road to investigate. Inside a nearby caf¨¦, he found Lance calmly reading a newspaper. Hearing footsteps, Lance looked up, set down his paper, and gestured for the manager to sit. ¡°Care for a drink?¡± The manager nced at the menu. ¡°A ssic coffee.¡± Federation-style ssic coffee: milk, coffee, and at least two sugar cubes. ¡°I¡¯m trying to convince him to repay the debt,¡± the manager began without preamble. Though the two hadn¡¯t spoken before, their interaction felt surprisingly natural. Lance lit a cigarette and offered one to the manager. ¡°Not going well, I take it?¡± The manager sighed. ¡°He¡¯s too proud. And he doesn¡¯t have the cash.¡± Lance leaned back, exhaling smoke. ¡°Wealth isn¡¯t just about cash. Assets, property¡ªthey all count. He has the means to repay but refuses out of sheer stubbornness. And from what I¡¯ve heard, your efforts have made the restaurant quite profitable these past months.¡± The server arrived with their coffee. The manager thanked them and took a small sip. ¡°Mr. Anderson is an excellent chef, and his apprentices are promising. I¡¯ve simply given people the opportunity to experience his cooking.¡± It was a modest statement, one Lance appreciated. ¡°Ever thought of changing jobs?¡± Lance asked. ¡°I might start a consulting firm soon. I¡¯ll need someone to manage it.¡± ¡°What kind of consulting?¡± ¡°Problem-solving. Lobbying. That sort of thing.¡± The manager¡¯s interest visibly waned. ¡°I have no experience in that field, nor the connections for it. I doubt I¡¯d be much help.¡± Lance didn¡¯t seem bothered, shrugging it off. After a moment of silence, the manager asked, ¡°Are you nning to send more homeless people to disrupt our dinner service tonight?¡± Lance chuckled, shaking his head. ¡°I was, but now I think Mr. Anderson needs a stronger push. I¡¯ll be trying a different approach.¡± Curious, the manager leaned in. ¡°What are you nning?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t worry¡ªI won¡¯t tell Anderson. Like you, I want this resolved quickly. If he decides to act, I¡¯ll keep working here. If not, I¡¯ll leave. Either way, I¡¯m not the one losing out.¡± Lance smirked, leaving the manager unsatisfied but intrigued. ---n/?/vel/b//in dot c//om After the meeting, Lance made a phone call to Alberto. The voice on the other end greeted him withughter. ¡°Lance! I heard you had people crapping in front of his restaurant. What can I say? It¡¯s disgusting, but it¡¯s effective! I¡¯m impressed.¡± ¡°What do you need this time?¡± Alberto asked. ¡°Mr. Coty,¡± Lance replied, ¡°do you know where I can rent a septic truck?¡± Chapter 32: The Final Straw Chapter 32: The Final Straw The restaurant manager looked at the feces smeared across the ss walls, the yellow sludge sttered through the front door, and the road outside covered in filth. For a moment, he felt likeughing. But seeing Mr. Anderson¡¯s furious expression, he held it in. He walked over to Mr. Anderson, who was currently busy directing the apprentices in cleaning up the mess. Surprisingly, after the morning¡¯s relentless assaults, the apprentices seemed to have developed a psychological immunity to feces. None gagged, vomited, or even protested. Though clearly disgusted, they donned gloves and began scrubbing the feces off the ss walls. The task wasn¡¯t easy. If a scientist had been present, they might have exined why the waste was so stubbornly stuck to the ss. The high-pressure impact from the septic truck¡¯s collision had caused the feces to hit the ss like bullets. Upon contact, air was expelled, creating a vacuum-like seal between the ss and the fecal matter.n/?/vel/b//in dot c//om To remove it, merely spraying water wasn¡¯t enough. Physical force was required to break the vacuum. And with feces¡­ the more you scrub, the messier it gets.No wonder there were stories of Federation citizens using up an entire roll of toilet paper for one sitting. Mr. Anderson¡¯s face was as dark as the filth he was surrounded by. He cursed incessantly¡ªat the apprentices¡¯ ipetence, at the driver responsible for the ident, and possibly at life itself. ¡°Mr. Anderson¡­¡± Anderson wiped the white foam forming at the corners of his mouth. ¡°What?¡± The manager looked at him seriously. ¡°Don¡¯t you see? This is part of their strategy.¡± Anderson froze. ¡°I¡¯ve considered that, but¡­¡± ¡°Nows were broken,¡± the manager emphasized. ¡°It was an idental traffic collision. Insurance will cover their costs, maybe just 50 bucks. But for us? We¡¯ll spend hundreds, maybe thousands, trying to recover.¡± ¡°It won¡¯t be long before people start calling us the ¡®Sewage Restaurant.¡¯ Once thatbel sticks, we¡¯ll lose customers for good. And who knows what they¡¯ll do next?¡± The manager was a sharp man¡ªsomeone who had brought the restaurant back from the brink of failure. He understood that fighting back against this campaign was futile. ¡°Today it¡¯s a septic truck. Tomorrow, who knows? And the day after that?¡± ¡°Forgive me for not siding with you on this, Mr. Anderson. If the loan shark decides not to collect his money and instead keeps funding stunts like this to ruin you, everything you¡¯ve invested in this restaurant will be for nothing.¡± ¡°As long as you keep running this ce, you¡¯ll always be at a disadvantage in this fight.¡± ¡°We¡¯ve seen what they¡¯re capable of. I¡¯ve already told you: if you can¡¯t resolve this, I¡¯ll resign at the end of the week.¡± Anderson opened his mouth to respond but found no words. ¡°I respect your determination, Mr. Anderson. I know you have your principles, but I can¡¯t change you. I can only change myself.¡± The manager gave a small smile, patted Anderson on the arm, and went outside to coordinate the cleanup. The mess couldn¡¯t wait for city sanitation. The street needed to look presentable as soon as possible. ??£Î????£Ó Farther away, reporters snapped photos relentlessly. The manager didn¡¯t bother trying to stop them¡ªwhat would be the point? --- Anderson slumped into a chair, lighting a cigarette and holding his head in his hands. The manager was right. If this continued, no one would dine here anymore. It wasn¡¯t just about the targeted harassment. Customers would fear bing coteral damage. Who wanted to risk a smashed car window or worse just for a meal? No amount of wine vouchers could lure them back. He turned to watch the manager, now rolling up his sleeves to join the cleanup effort. The apprentices and staff, drenched in sweat, were working tirelessly to scrub the mess off thewn and the streets. Anderson suddenly felt like he had aged years in a single moment. His once-proud stance faltered, and his back hunched slightly. He had made his decision. Just as he resolved to gather the necessary funds, footsteps echoed from the entrance. Lance entered, covering his nose and mouth in mock disgust. Alberto had wanted toe himself, eager to see Anderson humbled. But Lance had convinced him to wait at the caf¨¦, warning that the stench might ruin his expensive shoes. Lance didn¡¯t mind the smell but knew how to appeal to Alberto¡¯s vanity. As soon as Anderson saw Lance, anger surged through him. Despite his decision topromise, his blood boiled. He stood abruptly. Lance smiled calmly, unfazed by Anderson¡¯s fury. ¡°Mr. Anderson, looks like you¡¯re in quite a mess.¡± ¡°You¡¯re the biggest mess I¡¯ve ever met!¡± Anderson roared, striding forward to grab Lance by the cor. The cigarette in Anderson¡¯s mouth brushed against Lance¡¯s chest, sending sparks flying. The manager rushed in, barely managing to restrain Anderson. The old man¡¯s strength was remarkable, nearly breaking free. ¡°You can hit me, Mr. Anderson,¡± Lance said evenly. ¡°But have you considered the cost of doing so?¡± He spoke with a calm menace, his tone icy. ¡°I guarantee your restaurant will close, and not just the restaurant. You, your wife, and your family will find yourselves unwee anywhere in the Federation.¡± ¡°You might think I¡¯m bluffing, or trying to scare you. Go ahead, test me.¡± ¡°Maybe the next time Angel Lake¡¯s water level rises, people will say it¡¯s connected to you and your family.¡± His words, and the chilling confidence behind them, made Anderson¡¯s raised fist waver. For the first time, Lance¡¯s usual yful demeanor was gone, reced by something far more unsettling. Anderson finally lowered his hand. The manager, still trying to defuse the situation, offered conciliatory words. Lance adjusted his cor and dusted off the ash marks on his shirt. A small burn hole remained¡ªa reminder of Anderson¡¯s failed defiance. ¡°I wanted to talk this out,¡± Lance said, ¡°but you clearlyck that maturity.¡± ¡°This is your final warning, Mr. Anderson. These past few days were just to show you one thing: you can¡¯t handle the consequences of this fight. We can.¡± ¡°If you don¡¯t settle this, the next steps will be far worse¡ªbeyond my control.¡± The manager quickly interjected, ¡°Mr. Anderson has agreed to repay everything with interest. We¡¯re just short on cash right now.¡± Lance smirked. ¡°We¡¯re all adults. We know what needs to be done.¡± ¡°Mr. Coty extended a helping hand, and you betrayed his goodwill. Get the money, apologize, and everything will go back to normal.¡± ¡°If you don¡¯t¡­ enjoy this brief peace. I promise, it¡¯ll be yourst.¡± With a lighthearted smile, Lance added, ¡°Well, that¡¯s all I had to say. This ce stinks. I¡¯ll send you the bill for my ruined shirt¡ªcheck your mailbox.¡± Without waiting for a response, Lance left. At the caf¨¦, he recounted everything to Alberto, who was so thrilled he couldn¡¯t sit still. ¡°That was brilliant, Lance! Why don¡¯t youe work for me?¡± It was the first time Alberto officially invited Lance to join him. The n had been wless¡ªlegal, cost-efficient, and deeply satisfying. Even if Alberto paid Lance an additional 500 bucks, the entire operation had cost less than $1,000, leaving a hefty profit margin on the $5,000 debt. More importantly, Alberto felt vindicated. For him, satisfaction outweighed the money. But Lance politely declined. ¡°Let¡¯s revisit thister. I¡¯m still figuring out my next steps.¡± Alberto respected his decision. ¡°I understand, Lance. I¡¯ll be waiting.¡± As they parted, Lance assured him, ¡°By tomorrow afternoon, Mr. Anderson will call, begging for your forgiveness.¡± Chapter 34: How Did You Do It? Chapter 34: How Did You Do It? "Families of missing children?" Officer Brayden frowned. "So you¡¯re nning to¡­?" "Give them a child," Lance replied, "healthy, handsome, polite, and willing to pay them $200. Of course, they¡¯d need to keep their mouths shut about the arrangement." Lance didn¡¯t hide his intentions, as he needed Brayden¡¯s help to execute the n. Brayden¡¯s eyes lit up. "That¡¯s quite the unique business. You shouldn¡¯t share ideas like that so freely." Lance leaned forward slightly. "Consider it a gesture of goodwill, Officer Brayden. I believe the profits from our future coborations will far exceed this." He shrugged, feigning indifference. Brayden, however, was clearly intrigued. "I¡¯ll keep an eye out. Plenty of kids have gone missing in Jingang City over the years. Matching ages shouldn¡¯t be too hard either. I have to admit, you¡¯re opening up a whole new market!" He pocketed the envelope. "Tomorrow, same time, same ce¡ªI¡¯ll have an answer for you!"With that, he drained his coffee, whistling as he walked past the counter. "The kid¡¯s paying for this," he called out. Brayden and his partner exited the restaurant and got into their patrol car. As they drove off, Brayden filled his partner in on the n. His partner perked up. "How much money could we make from this?" Brayden lit a cigarette, his eyes on the rearview mirror. "Not sure yet. It depends on how much he can negotiate with others, but we can set a baseline." "You know what Jingang City has in abundance?" Brayden¡¯s voice trembled with excitement, as if he¡¯d stumbled upon a gold mine. Before his partner could answer, Brayden floored the gas pedal and eximed, "Illegal immigrants! We¡¯ve hit the jackpot!" Lance watched the police car speed away, shaking his head as he returned to his coffee and waffle. The waffle was a chaotic blend of vors: maple syrup, fruit jam, chocte shavings, and powdered sugar¡ªa typical Federation-style overload of sweetness. Paired with unsweetened coffee, it was slightly more ptable, but still overwhelmingly rich. Lance only managed to eat about a third before giving up, feeling as if his teeth were screaming in protest. When he went to pay, the shockingly low price made him doubt if the bill had been calcted correctly. The owner only charged him a dor: 35 cents for two coffees and 65 cents for a waffle and a burger. "Mr. Anderson should see these prices," Lance thought wryly. "He¡¯s the real thief around here." He was confident Brayden would take this matter seriously. The potential business seemed enormous, and Brayden wouldn¡¯t want Lance sharing this lucrative opportunity with anyone else.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om But in reality, the business wasn¡¯t as promising as it appeared. How many illegal immigrants in Jingang City could save up hundreds of dors? People like Elvin, who worked on the docks, barely saved three to five dors a month despite extreme frugality. Even at the high end of savings, they¡¯d need five years to umte $300. §²?????B¨§? While some exceptional cases existed, they were rare¡ªmaybe one in a thousand. This venture was more akin to selling real estate to the homeless. If they could afford homes, they wouldn¡¯t be homeless. --- Saturday morning was a day for gatherings outside St. Naya¡¯s Cathedral. Lance arrived punctually, greeting a few adults before heading to the side area where the younger crowd gathered. The teenagers greeted him warmly. To them, $5 was a significant amount. At Fat Boss¡¯s ce, a meal cost just 20 cents. At Mr. Anderson¡¯s restaurant, meals ranged from $20 to $30, sometimes more¡ªan unattainable luxury. With $5, these kids could splurge and have fun for days. Their recent upscale dining experience,plete with free $2 meals, left them with nothing but admiration for Lance. Even Gerald was thrilled. The teenagers¡¯ fondness for Lance elevated his own standing. Of course, not everyone was kindhearted. "Hey, Lance, I¡¯m curious," one of the teens asked with a sly grin, "how much did you make from this gig?" Greed and jealousy are human nature. Someone had calcted that Lance had spent over $100 on them in just one day. Surely, he must have earned much more to afford such generosity. The buzz about Mr. Anderson¡¯s restaurant over the past couple of days only fueled their curiosity. Gerald quickly rebuked the question. "That¡¯s none of your business!" The teen chuckled awkwardly. "I didn¡¯t mean to offend, Gerald. I was just curious. I mean, I made money too, so I was wondering how much Lance earned." Others spoke up in Lance¡¯s defense. "You don¡¯t have to answer that, Lance. We¡¯re just grateful you thought of us when you did." But Lance surprised them by answering. "All together? About $1,000." Gasps erupted. Even Gerald was stunned, blurting out, "That much?!" The first teen, his jealousy barely concealed, eximed, "A thousand dors?! I¡¯ve never even seen that much money!" Lance remained calm. "If it shocks you that I made $1,000, wait until you hear this: the person who assigned me the job made at least $2,000." Another round of astonished gasps rippled through the group. "Wow, Lance, will there be more opportunities like this?" Ennio couldn¡¯t resist asking the question on everyone¡¯s mind. "If there¡¯s anything I can do, I¡¯d love to help." The group chimed in eagerly, their voices growing louder. For the chance to earn $5 with minimal effort, who wouldn¡¯t jump at the opportunity? From the main gathering, Mr. Jobav noticed themotion and turned to see arge group of teens surrounding Lance. Intrigued, he sent an assistant to find out what was happening. The assistant returned shortly, looking bemused. "You won¡¯t believe what I just heard, Mr. Jobav." "Spit it out, or I¡¯ll dock your pay," Jobav replied irritably, disliking the theatrics. The assistant quicklyplied. "That young man made over $1,000 from a recent job¡ªand the kids say he spent over $100 on them." Even the assistant seemed incredulous. A thousand dors was no small sum, even to someone earning above-average wages. Jobav¡¯s curiosity deepened. "How did he manage that?" The Novel will be updated first on this website. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!