Empire of Shadows

Standing in the alley next to the restaurant, Mr. Anderson handed over four hundred dollars to Lance, his expression cold with a touch of disgust.

At this moment, he could be sure that these two were sent by someone to cause trouble.

He actually had quite a few "enemies" in Golden Port City, one being that greedy cur, Alberto. His former partner was another—

His partner had recently seen the restaurant's business booming and contacted him two weeks ago, hoping to buy back his previously sold shares at the original price.

Of course, he couldn't possibly agree, so it did not exclude the possibility that the scoundrel, who had once faced business difficulties and had been extorted into selling his shares, would do something like this.

And of course, there were some competing restaurants in the vicinity; no one would ever complain about business being too good.

They would rather have customers wait outside the restaurant for an hour before being able to dine, than to see their patrons fill their stomachs elsewhere for less money.

The better his business, the more likely his competitors would resort to underhanded tactics.

He had to figure out who was messing with him from behind the scenes.

"The money's been given to you, let's end this matter..."

Lance counted the last twenty-dollar bill, folded them all, and pocketed them, his smile as glaring as the sunshine, "Of course, Mr. Anderson, we are people of integrity."

Mr. Anderson felt there was more to his words, but he couldn't pin it down; he hesitated for a moment but eventually asked out loud, "Who sent you?"

He expected Lance to dodge the question or spout nonsense. He considered many possibilities, but he had not anticipated—

"Two hundred, Mr. Anderson."

"Just give me two hundred dollars, and I'll tell you the truth."

"No bargains."

Mr. Anderson was almost out of breath in a single gulp, "I've never seen someone as shameless as you in my life!"

Lance stepped back, bowed slightly, "I'll take it as a compliment from you."

"I have other matters to attend to this afternoon—if there's nothing else, we should leave."

"My poor brother still needs to go for a check-up with the doctor, and even now, I don't know if four hundred dollars is enough!"

Mr. Anderson's temples pulsed. He lowered his voice, filled with fury, thinking this was Lance's insatiable greed, trying to continue extorting him.

"I'm telling you, you son of a bitch, if you dare come to my restaurant again, I'll call the police. I know some big shots, they can make you regret being born!"

He turned and walked away after saying so but had only gone a few steps before he returned, angrily counted out two hundred dollars, and slammed it onto Lance's chest, "Now, tell me the name of that bastard immediately!"

Lance quickly counted the money, grinning so broadly he couldn't close his mouth, "Alberto Kodi, sir, I happen to work for him..."

"Fack!"

Mr. Anderson cursed loudly as he left. Elvin tugged at Lance's sleeve somewhat mystified, "Won't Mr. Kodi be angry because we sold him out?"

"Sell out?" Lance shook his finger, pulled out sixty dollars, and handed them to Elvin, "This isn't selling out. If Mr. Kodi wants to get this money back, he'd need to put enough pressure on Mr. Anderson."

"If we don't say who it is, Mr. Anderson won't know where the pressure is coming from, and he might incorrectly target someone else as the mastermind behind the scenes."

"So we need to let him know who is making him uncomfortable, and who he should seek out to resolve the matter."

Lance pocketed the remaining money and then pulled Elvin back into the car.

The scorching sun hung in the sky, baking everything on the earth.

The moment the car door opened, a damnable heatwave rushed out, reminding Lance of the ovens in a bakery.

He frowned and waited before sitting inside.

For the first time, the scorching black leather seats felt absolutely uncomfortable. He rolled down the windows to let in as much wind from the outside as possible.

"What's next... where are we going?" Elvin was clearly also overwhelmed by the heat.

Lance started the car and looked in the rearview mirror, "We're off to find some people willing to make money..."

The car soon returned to the side of the tunnel. Lance brought some food over; they hadn't rented a place yet and were still living here temporarily.

It had to be said, the tunnel was refreshingly cool at this time, with the wind blowing from the depths at around ten degrees Celsius—some of the thinner folks even had to wear an extra layer.

It was no wonder people lived in these tunnels during the summer.

Seeing Lance drive up, the pals immediately gathered around.

"We made some money today. Melo, when it cools down a bit tonight, take everyone to buy some clothes," he gave Melo eighty dollars.

There were about twenty people here; each person could get at least four dollars on average.

"That's too much. There's a second-hand market by the port where you can get a set for one yuan!"

The port area had many such markets, as it was where the most impoverished lived. Most of the sold clothes were either recycled from other areas or even stolen!

There were specialized thieves who stole clothes hung out to dry by others, even pilfering from laundromats.

Of course, there were also some picked from the trash piles of middle-to-upper-class neighborhoods.

Those nicer-looking clothes were often more expensive, not targeted at the port area's clientele, which primarily consisted of sets for one yuan or sixty cents per piece.

Lance shook his head, "No, go buy clothes like mine, something decent. We will be frequenting higher-end places in the future; we cannot afford to dress shabbily."

Melo had nothing to say, although some people also asked how much money Lance made this time, Lance just smiled and said nothing.

Elvin didn't speak either.

"Do you know anyone from the Empire who has immigrated and obtained residency status?"

"There are things to do tomorrow, and they might be a bit dangerous, people without an identity could run into trouble."

"I need about twenty locals or people with legal immigration status."

Everyone immediately started talking all at once.

In fact, many Imperial people have settled in the Federation and have obtained legal immigration status, contributing significantly to the launch of the Federation's economy.

"Little Red Riding Hood's uncle and brother seem to be legal immigrants; I've heard him mention it."

The term "Little Red Riding Hood" isn't exactly a compliment in the Federation, regardless of the animated fables, cartoons, and movies surrounding it; it's actually not meant to be flattering.

Some people, who often opt for younger prey, refer to their targets as "Little Red Riding Hoods" and themselves as the "Big Gray Wolf."

The reason that "Little Red Riding Hood" got his nickname was actually because he looked too much like a girl.

A sixteen-year-old boy, fair-skinned, slender, even somewhat pretty, always wore a red baseball cap onboard the ship.

So everyone gave him a nickname.

Unlike Lance and the others who smuggled themselves over to take root as illegal immigrants, he came to join his uncle.

As for why he took a smuggling ship, it was purely because His Majesty the Emperor had already banned males from leaving the country at will.

Without smuggling, he couldn't have left at all.

Besides Little Red Riding Hood, a few other friends provided some clues.

The Empire had internal issues for some time, and a group of people had already left the Empire for the Federation, some of whom lived here.

Lance asked them to write down addresses or phone numbers to contact them.

The anti-illegal immigrant sentiment in Golden Port City had not yet subsided, and although it hadn't escalated, there was little improvement.

Many believed it was due to the inaction of City Hall or the State Government, but in reality, it was simply because the high-level political struggle around Golden Port City had not yet concluded.

Once the high-level political struggle ended, the city could regain stability within three days.

Lance didn't bring anyone with him when he went to visit Little Red Riding Hood; he went alone, as this was not a job requiring many people.

Little Red Riding Hood's uncle's place was not too far from the port area, in a part of town where the lower class lived, residing in an apartment complex.

People who saw Lance get out of the car couldn't help but stop and stare longer than usual; not many people drove to the lower-class neighborhoods and got out of their cars.

It wasn't until they saw Lance enter the apartment building that they stopped watching and started discussing.

Little Red Riding Hood's address was on the seventh floor, where a corner of the old elevator held a smelly puddle of urine.

Spit and tissue on the floor remained uncleaned, just left there.

During the elevator ride, they would often be kicked out and end up in the elevator shaft.

No wonder as soon as one came in, there was a musty smell mixed with a faint stench.

When he arrived in front of the door, he straightened his clothes and knocked.

The man who answered appeared to be in his late thirties, with brown hair and a clean-shaven face, quite contrary to the beard-loving trend of the Federation folks.

His eyes were full of wariness and distrust, "Who are you looking for?"

"I'm looking for Jerald."

"And you are?"

"I'm from the Empire; you can call me Lance. We met on the ship."

The middle-aged man inside gave Lance another once-over, relaxing a bit when he realized that Lance's outfit must have cost at least ten dollars.

He hesitated before opening the door wider, "Jerald is at work, he won't be back until the evening, but come in and have a seat."

Lance stepped into the room and looked around; the space wasn't very large.

Lance placed the fruit in a conspicuous spot on the table, knowing how to deal with these lower-class folks.

"You can call me Burton. Shall I call you Lance?"

"Would you like something to drink?"

He went over to the cupboard to check "I'm sorry, all we have is water."

Burton filled a glass with tap water and placed it on the table, "You must have just arrived in the Federation and may not be aware, but you can actually drink the tap water here directly."

"And if you taste it carefully, you should find it has a subtly sweet taste."

"The Federation people have spent decades focusing on water quality protection and have made a great effort in filtration, adding minerals to the water as well."

"I'm not saying the Empire is bad, but compared to the Federation, we have a long way to go."

Looking at the glass of water, which undoubtedly had lead content exceeding the standard, Lance already understood what kind of person Mr. Burton was, and knew how to communicate with him.