Empire of Shadows

Under the shade of a tree by the roadside, Lance looked at Ethan, "Are you feeling a bit uncomfortable?"

Ethan shook his head, insincerely saying, "No."

In fact, Lance could tell he was feeling uncomfortable, but he just didn't say it.

"I worked hard for a month, only for that son of a bitch to plan on swallowing my share too, I beat him up, and now they want me to apologize..."

As Lance spoke these words, Ethan looked up with a disbelieving, seen-through gaze.

"Don't look at me like that; I don't know what you're thinking, but I'm also young."

"A lot of times, I feel just like you, putting face above all else, but Ethan, this is the Federation."

He lifted his head and took several deep breaths through his nose, "Do you smell that?"

Ethan and Elvin both lifted their heads and sniffed, Elvin didn't speak, but Ethan was quite honest, "A fishy smell, stench, and a bit of oil smell."

"No!" Lance denied his findings, "It's the smell of money, and the smell of power!"

"This is a great place, Ethan, great to the extent that as long as you have money, you can do whatever you want, but the precondition is, you've got to have money."

"Do you have money?" Ethan shook his head, and Lance patted his arm, "So you still can't do whatever you want, whether it's beating up that bastard or anything else."

"The reason I want you to apologize is I don't want this to escalate," he glanced again at Elvin nearby.

"The number of work cards at the dock is limited, but every day outside the dock, countless people like us without work cards are waiting to start work."

"If that jerk tweaks the story a bit and spreads it, Ethan, it would be hard for you to survive in Golden Port City."

"People won't give a job to someone who could beat up an employer at any moment, why would they give the same fifteen dollars to you, because they want to be attacked?"

"You could take all his money, but that would mean, from now on, you, even you guys, won't be able to find jobs at the dock."

"We're too recognizable; they can distinguish us from other races, so this is the lesson I'm teaching you today, the rules."

"Only take what we should, as long as we abide by the rules, no one can use the rules to attack us."

"If he doesn't talk nonsense, there won't be any consequences, and it won't affect you guys."

"But if he causes trouble, those who set the rules will handle it, it was him who caused unnecessary uproar."

"This isn't the Empire, you can't just go to your parents, your uncles and aunts, and have them sort it out."

"Here, we have to carry our own weight."

Lance turned to look at Elvin, pressing on his shoulder, "Sometimes Ethan doesn't think straight, keep an eye on him, just get through this period first."

What had happened recently made Elvin deeply admire Lance, and he almost unconditionally obeyed what he said.

"I will."

Lance nodded, "If you still have anything unclear, or don't understand, tell me right now."

"We have crossed the ocean to come here, we share the same blood of our ancestors, we are brothers, we should have no secrets, we should stand united."

Ethan hung his head for a long time, then said a "Thank you."

Lance smiled and punched him in the chest, but his body didn't move at all, as solid as a young calf!

"Alright, I should get back now, if anything comes up, don't act rashly, come find me."

"Even if one day you want to kill someone, be sure to come to me before you do such a foolish thing, don't gamble with your life in anger!"

He patted Elvin's arm again, then got in the car and left.

As they watched Lance leave, Elvin rolled his eyes at Ethan, "Do you even know what happened today?"

Ethan scratched his head, a bit embarrassed, "I put you guys in a difficult position."

Elvin waved his hand, "We are brothers, from the same place, Lance is right, we should stick together."

Then he told Ethan about what had happened after Ethan hid away, when he heard that many friends from the same boat trip had gathered money for him, even two fellow villagers he didn't know had contributed three yuan.

Ethan burst into tears!

He was moved, yet felt guilty because he had done a foolish thing that made everyone take on a debt.

Now, as guilt began to surge over his frustrated emotions, bringing reason back, and calming down, he realized how foolish it had been to beat up that bastard at that moment.

"...So, the most urgent thing now, is to first pay back this money."

"The good news is I still have over seventy dollars here, so what we're still lacking isn't much..."

In the car, the bustling street scenery continually reeled backward, Lance sitting in the passenger seat, "Got a smoke, Fodis?"

Fodis glanced at him sideways, "You should add 'sir'!" Nevertheless, he still opened the storage compartment on the center console, which contained a box of cigarettes.

Lance picked one up, struck a match, and took a deep drag.

The thick smoke, carrying the fragrance of years in the summer air, filled his lungs, filtering not tar and harmful substances but time, years, and history!

His right elbow rested on the open car window, his head half-protruding as the hot summer wind blew against his face, messing up his hair and entering his heart.

A new world, a new life, a new beginning!

A smile, one from deep within, appeared on his always composed face, something urging him to treat this world as his canvas to paint his wild imaginings!

At 4:55 PM, the car stopped outside the bakery; when Lance and Fodis stepped out together, the stout owner's eyeballs nearly popped out!

He hesitated, unsure, "Lance, you haven't gotten me into trouble, have you?"

"Who is this gentleman...?"

Lance was an illegal immigrant; the stout owner had confirmed it long ago. Otherwise, a normal person would never do a job that paid only fifteen dollars a month, not even child labor.

The Federation never banned child labor, only mandated reduced working hours and required corresponding wages.

Lance had nothing, no work card, no social security number, so he was an illegal.

An illegal arriving in a luxury car certainly puzzled and slightly unnerved the stout owner.

Lance didn't obscure certain facts, "A new friend, Mr. Fodis, stopped by to pick up some bread."

"I'm not late, am I?"

Before understanding Mr. Fodis's true status, the stout owner acted a bit more restrained, "Of course, I was just joking with you."

He paused, "Go change into your apron, and I'll take care of Mr. Fodis."

Looking at the gentleman's attire, it was clearly not cheap.

No one understood these things better than the middle class; they might not own them but they surely knew a lot!

Otherwise, whom would those magazines sell to?

To the wealthy who spend money without blinking?

"Lance is a very hard-working young man, even if he's just cleaned the floor, he'll scrub it again if he's idle."

"I always use him as a model to tell others how outstanding he is."

"Although he's somewhat shy socially, he never told me he knew a bigwig like you here."

"Could you share how you two met?"

It was a clumsy attempt at prying. Fodis glanced at him sideways, said nothing, and entered the bakery.

Although the stout owner was a bit annoyed, the smile never left his face considering the new car and the fine fabric of the clothes.

Realizing the guy wasn't interested in him, he stepped back, "Lance, why don't you introduce your friend to some of our bakery's delights?"

Lance, now in an apron, stood behind the counter, his attire amusing even Fodis, "So... what do you plan to recommend?"

Lance opened the display window, "The only thing here I find remotely delicious is this high-quality ham from Musuri Island."

Musuri Island was somewhat far, in another country, known for three things because of its special climate and geography.

Tobacco.

Ham.

Women.

Lance picked up a slice with tongs and handed it over. Fodis pinched it between his fingers, tasted it, then shook his head, "It's not authentic Musuri ham, just barely passable."

"If this is the best you have..."

He glanced at the stout owner in the corner, "Let's have two portions, and two bread rolls that match its quality. Do you have doughnuts?"

"Yes, one box of doughnuts comes with a free cup of coffee, and if you're interested in charred wooden remnants, I can give you an extra cup."

Fodis closed his eyes as if dizzy, "Is this how you swindle your customers?"

Lance, while packing the food, joked, "Ninety-nine percent of our customers just want to fill their bellies. They care only about the price, not the taste or origin."

He packed the goods in a paper bag and placed them on the counter, "Six dollars and ninety-nine cents."

A box of doughnuts for ninety-nine cents, including a free cup of coffee.

Two portions of the best ham at five dollars, and two decent bread rolls at one dollar, the pricing was fair.

Holding his food, Fodis paid the bill, and with a parting reminder said, "Don't forget your deal with the owner!"

He glanced once more at the stout owner, who forced a smile, then pushed through the door and left.