Empire of Shadows

Soon, two glasses of water were brought over. The manager naturally placed his hands on the desk, his fingers interlocked together.

He then separated his palms and spread his hands, "So... what brings you here?"

The company had a lot of business operations, and not all of them went through him. He couldn't possibly know the specifics of every single transaction.

Elvin didn't know how to explain, while Lance seemed very natural and at ease.

"We've run into a bit of trouble and need some money."

A smile appeared on the manager's face, "That's no problem at all, that's what we do."

"How much are you planning to borrow?"

"Two hundred."

"Two hundred?"

"Two hundred!"

The manager didn't think the amount was too small. The financial companies here wouldn't let big fish or small fish slip away, and from a practical interest perspective, the smaller the amount, the higher the actual yield could be.

Maybe a thousand dollars would be calculated at an annual interest rate of fifty or sixty percent, but for ten thousand, the rate might only be twenty or thirty percent.

Moreover, the risk associated with smaller loans tended to be lower. The chances of someone running away over a few hundred dollars were much different than for a few thousand dollars.

Of course, before that, he definitely needed to clarify the basic information of the person in front of him. It wasn't the case that just anyone could come in and get money from him.

That wasn't called financial turnover; that was fucking charity.

"I can tell from your accents that you're not from around here."

Lance didn't deny it, "We're from the Empire."

The manager grimaced, "I often see news about your place on the news, it really seems like a terrible place. So, do you have any collateral?"

"You're not locals; if you run off, it would be very hard for me to find you."

"Instead of fronting this expense for you, I might as well just not lend you the money."

Lance knew this was definitely going to be a troublesome process, so he had to explain a bit, "We don't have any collateral..." He saw the manager seemed to show a "are you fucking joking with me" expression and mood, so Lance quickly said, "But we have the ability to repay."

Faced with the manager's puzzled look, he explained, "There are fourteen of us here; we all work in Golden Port City. Because we lack proper legal status, it's also difficult for us to go elsewhere."

"After all, you know, there are fewer job opportunities elsewhere, and it's also less safe. Other cities are not as tolerant as Golden Port City, so we won't run."

The manager agreed with this point of view. He opened his cigarette case, rotated it a bit, and gestured an invitation.

Lance took one out. Elvin just looked but didn't reach for one.

The manager found Lance quite amusing and pushed a lighter toward him, a very classic tabletop lighter, "Do you know how to use it?"

Tabletop lighters from this period all have a story to them. It appeared to be the size of an adult's palm—just the base.

On the base was a jester statue holding a torch. When one of the figure's arms was pressed, it would spit a spark onto the cotton wick of the torch in its hand, lighting it.

Soaked with kerosene—a kerosene wick and flint.

This type of tabletop lighter was very popular and came in all sorts of shapes and sizes, with a wide range of prices from low to high.

Lance leaned in with his cigarette and took a deep breath, the whole person seemed relaxed.

Watching Lance skillfully smoking, the manager also lit a cigarette for himself, "Let's continue our earlier conversation. Tell me how you can assure me that after I give you this money, I'll get it back."

"There are fourteen of us. Even if each person can only earn fifteen dollars a month, that adds up to two hundred and ten dollars."

"We'll give you half of that. At the most, it'll take only three months to completely pay it back."

"And I believe even if we lost our jobs and couldn't repay the money, we could work for you to pay off the debt. We have many people, so you don't need to worry about that at all."

After hearing this, the manager thought it did make sense, but there was still one issue, "How can you assure me that I will still be able to find you?"

"You can take pictures of us."

That was a good idea, but the manager decided to ask still, "Can I ask what you need this money for?"

"After all, two hundred dollars is not a small sum for you."

Lance didn't hide anything and spoke openly, "We've run into a trouble, there's a mistress planning to blackmail us for money..."

After listening to Lance's brief rundown of the entire situation, the manager became somewhat interested, "I have a new suggestion, would you consider hearing it?"

Lance, while flicking his cigarette ash, said, "Do we have the right to refuse?"

The manager laughed heartily a few times, "It seems not..." He paused, "I'll handle this mistress for you, and you'll still owe me two hundred dollars, but I can decide to reduce the interest a bit."

"Actually, by resolving this issue myself, it's more to your advantage than directly paying her."

"According to company policy, for two hundred dollars, this kind of small loan, we wouldn't charge you interest. You would owe a total of three hundred and fifty dollars, to be repaid within six months."

"Now, I'll reduce some interest for you. Within half a year, including principal and interest, you'd only need to give me three hundred and twenty dollars, fifty-three dollars and fifty cents a month. This would be my reward for your excellent performance."

Looking at the manager's confident smile, Lance didn't immediately agree or refuse but offered a new option, "We'll give you two hundred and fifty dollars including principal and interest, and this money will not go through the company's accounts but directly into your hands."

The manager was taken aback, then started to laugh heartily, and the laughter grew louder, the kind that couldn't be suppressed.

Lance faintly understood where the problem lay.

"This company is yours?"

The manager nodded while clutching his belly, "It's too funny, you're trying to bribe me right in front of my face!"

"Hahaha, you're really interesting, not at all like that guy by your side who's all dumb and dazed. I haven't asked yet, what's your name?"

"Lance..." he spelled it out.

"A quirky name, but you're a very interesting person, Lance."

"Considering you've made me laugh so much, two hundred eighty dollars, six months."

"This is my final concession. If it were someone else, I would have kicked them out the moment they tried to negotiate!"

As he said this, the manager exuded a sense of pride. In this era of scarce capital, as long as one had cash in hand, there was no need to fear not finding borrowers.

Some might be unwilling to endure such terrifying interest rates, but there were plenty willing to take the gamble.

Two hundred dollars plus eighty dollars in interest—this interest rate, in this era, in this city, wasn't expensive at all!

Without much hesitation, Lance stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray, then stood up while exhaling his final puff of smoke and extended his hand, "It was a pleasure doing business with you, sir."

After a moment of distraction, the manager stood and shook hands with Lance, "You're a fun one, Lance. Now I'm your creditor."

Then he shouted toward the door, "Fodis, get in here!"

Soon after, a burly man pushed open the door and stood inside, "Boss, did you call me?"

The manager released Lance's hand and pointed at him, "Follow him to settle the matter with a woman he's keeping. Then, make a round at his workplace, and bring back something to eat afterward..."

He looked at Lance, "You're not like the others your age that I've met. To be honest, there's something very special about you; I appreciate it. I think you won't be an ordinary person in the future."

"I hope I'll still hear people mentioning your name in Golden Port City, Lance."

"And don't forget the money you owe me. If you do, I'll send someone to remind you. You definitely won't like that kind of reminder, understood?"

Although he found Lance entertaining, business was business.

The girls working the streets at low cost wouldn't voluntarily reduce their charges just because the customer was a regular.

If they really liked you, they might live with you after work, but if you want to do something during work, you have to pay.

After briefly threatening Lance, he let them leave.

For him, two hundred eighty dollars broken down monthly came to just under forty-seven dollars.

But it was many forty-seven dollars that supported his current lifestyle.

And this time there was no risk at all, because he hadn't really given out any money and had also met an interesting fellow.

Lance's incongruous sense of being somewhat incompatible with the entire world had softened the manager a bit, and he was more tolerant, willing to wait and see how things unfolded.

When Lance and Elvin left the finance company, their friends immediately surrounded them, asking about the outcome.

As Lance told them the matter was settled, he prepared them saying, "Three dollars a month from each person, that makes forty-two, and Ethan should pay the remaining five dollars himself. He's the one who caused the trouble, so he should pay a bit more.

No one objected, and they all readily went along with Lance's directives.

Fodis frowned, "We're still on a schedule."

Lance quickly agreed, instructing his friends to await news, then joined Elvin in the company car. Guided by Elvin, they drove toward the port.

The snitch who reported Ethan lived in a worker's apartment near the port.

This was Lance's first time riding in a car in this world, the interior was far more luxurious than its exterior appearance suggested, especially the walnut and calfskin trimmings provided a sense of understated luxury.

"How much for this car?"

Fodis, driving, answered without turning his head, "Twenty thousand dollars."

Lance whistled and said no more.

Twenty thousand dollars, although he dared to dream about it, gathering that amount wouldn't be easy.

The car jostled a bit—a lack of good suspension made the ride quite "stiff," but after all, it was still a car. As a man, he definitely wouldn't dislike it.

They pulled up outside the worker's apartment at the port. Fodis followed Lance and Elvin, mainly Elvin, up to the fourth floor and knocked on a door.

"Is it you?" the woman, reeking of alcohol, furrowed her brows upon seeing Elvin. "Have you gathered the money?"

Lance pulled Elvin aside to hide, while Fodis stepped in front of the man, then said in a non-threatening tone, "Go to the police station, withdraw the report, and we can put this matter to rest."

The woman, drunk and not quite in her right mind, was unimpressed.

She shoved Fodis, "Who are these actors you've brought?"

"You band of smuggled dogs, don't think being big can intimidate me."

"I'll tell you, it's simple for me to drop the case, just put two hundred dollars in my hand, or else..."

Her words faltered as Fodis flipped open his coat to reveal the gun holster and the gun within, "Want to try if it can go off?"

The woman sobered up in an instant, took a step back, and raised her hands, retreating to the door frame, "Sorry, I wasn't clear about the situation..."