Empire of Shadows

Teenagers, nearing legal adulthood at eighteen or nineteen, lack the maturity their age suggests.

Elvin felt deeply wronged.

Originally at home, war suddenly erupted, and to prevent him from being senselessly sent to the battlefield, his family sold their house for money and sent him to the Federation.

He had thought this trip would be a "journey of growth" after all he had heard about the Federation while in the Empire had been positive, beautiful things.

Things like how the air was sweet, donuts were delicious, people handed out free food and clothes on the street, and hospitals would treat them even if they were penniless...

There were so many positive rumors about the Federation that almost everyone harbored dreams and fantasies about their life there before they arrived.

But after arriving, everything had turned sour.

The air was filled with the stench of horse manure, inadequately burned engine oil, and exhaust fumes from cars.

The people were unfriendly, everyone was self-serving, sharp-tongued, looking at him as if he were garbage.

He had not smelled the sweet air, nor had he tasted whether the donuts were truly sweet.

It felt as if the whole world was against him, despite enduring exploitation, oppression, and humiliation!

Now, even the opportunity to be exploited and oppressed was taken away from him, stirring up feelings of injustice, hatred, and disgust all at once.

Elvin wasn't one to easily show his emotions, unlike Ethan.

Ethan was direct, displaying happiness and unhappiness openly, even choosing to talk about them with others.

Elvin was different; he kept things to himself.

Sometimes, after harboring too many emotions, there was no room left for more grievances.

Seeing Elvin fighting the urge to cry, Lance hugged him tightly, "Everything will pass, Elvin, everything will get better."

"First, we need to take care of your injuries. If they get infected, it would be troublesome."

"As for the rest, I'll figure something out."

Soon, he met his friends hiding in the alley, most of them wounded, but fortunately, none had suffered fractures.

That was a stroke of luck amidst misfortune!

Lance had heard an old man on this street say that he had broken his leg last year and had to wait two weeks before seeing a doctor. The doctor told him that his fracture had started to heal abnormally.

He had two options—

First, re-break the partially healed fracture and treat it properly with a splint and wheelchair.

This would cost about two thousand five hundred dollars, whereas the old man had only twenty-seven dollars of disposable income per month.

Second, a simple correction, which would surely leave him with a limp, an inevitable deformity if left untreated.

The doctor could try fitting him with a splint to see if it could be corrected, but there was no guarantee of effectiveness, costing three hundred seventy dollars.

Eventually, he paid forty dollars for the consultation and left without any treatment.

He managed to straighten the partially healed bone with two copper tubes with a friend's help and put up a support.

Although he limped, it was hardly noticeable unless one looked closely.

If any of their friends had fractured bones, they would likely have been left disabled, but fortunately, no one had.

Lance took them to the pharmacy on the street, which was already closed, with a metal gate preventing entry.

Nights in Golden Port City were unsafe, and pharmacies were at a much higher risk of being looted than other shops.

Because everyone knew that drugs were valuable.

"We need some medical supplies."

A cautious voice came from inside, "What do you need?"

"Bandages, gauze, alcohol, preferably some anti-inflammatory drugs, and some needles and thread for stitching wounds. How many in a pack?"

"Ten."

"Then I'll take two packs."

The duty officer quickly prepared everything and, in front of Lance, placed it into a leather bag through the iron gate. "It was originally twenty-one dollars and fifteen cents, but now it's just twenty-one dollars."

Lance thanked him and handed over the money first—it was supposed to be given to the finance company later, but he used it now.

Then the person inside handed out the goods.

Some people were wandering around in the night, but Lance's group was too large and seemed as if they had just been through a battle. Without clear knowledge of these people's backgrounds, they wouldn't easily start a fight.

Lance glanced around and lowered his voice slightly, "Let's get away from here…"

The Federation Government controlled the city until 8 PM, and the gangs ruled after that.

To avoid misunderstandings, it was best not to run around with a big group at night.

They found an alley, and under the streetlight, Lance helped them clean their wounds.

At that moment, everyone's morale was low; each seemed to have lost the energy and motivation they had when discussing dreams before.

Knowing this was not a solution, he continued sewing up Melo's trembling wounds and asked, "Have you seen the people who attacked you?"

Perhaps the topic caught their attention, and the atmosphere somewhat improved.

One of the guys volunteered, "I've seen one of them come to the harbor several times, but I don't know what he does."

Under the dim streetlights, those eyes reflecting the streetlight's glow all stared at Lance, seeming to expect something.

Lance tugged at the thread in his hand, and Melo trembled intensely from the pain!

The tree branch he was biting on, freshly snapped off, was already bitten to where the bark split and the bitter juice flowed out of his mouth, yet it was nothing compared to his pain.

But even so, this usually reticent guy looked at Lance with fiery eyes!

"We can't just let this go; the city won't be safe these days. We need to hide for a while."

"After the heat dies down, we need to strike back."

He applied anti-inflammatory medication to Melo's wound, a small bottle of about ten milliliters of white powder medication costing nineteen dollars and eighty cents.

While applying the medicine to Melo, he said, "We don't owe them anything; your injuries shouldn't be in vain."

"We must fight back tooth for tooth, blood for blood!"

"Otherwise, everyone will walk all over us!"

In that moment, the despondent guys suddenly rallied with a new intensity!

Ethan stomped his foot hard, "Lance is right, tooth for tooth, blood for blood!"

They all agreed and resolved to do so!

After a while, as the heat of the moment faded and rationality returned, people began to think about what to do in the coming days.

Lance actually had a plan in mind. "Don't worry too much about money; you guys can hide in the culverts for the time being."

"The chaos won't last long. Golden Port City is one of the Federation's most important economic centers. The big shots won't let it descend into chaos over this."

"Whether it's the big capitalists or certain political forces, they'll compete and settle things quickly."

"So remember, lay low first."

"Don't get singled out during this time to be used as examples to intimidate others!"

"After this period is over, I'll lead you to seek justice!"

"Don't act alone, try not to stir up trouble, but if a conflict arises and it happens in a secluded area…"

Lance looked at them, his eyes flashing a knife-like cold glint in the night, "just kill them, hide their bodies, then come find me."

Considering safety, Lance didn't escort them back himself—there were too many of them for him to handle.

Instead, they escorted Lance back to the bakery. Lance hugged each one, and the group disappeared under the cover of night.

The black night continued to spread, like an unclear path ahead, instilling fear in people.

But within this dark night, there was already a spark, a small flame, stubbornly and defiantly burning.