Empire of Shadows

In early November, the election results were hotly anticipated. As everyone expected, the President won re-election with an overwhelming lead.

The *Federal Daily* celebrated the President's re-election with the headline "Another Great Victory."

However, another mainstream newspaper, the *Federal Post*, directly challenged the *Federal Daily* with the headline "The Most Disgraceful Victory."

The editor stated in the report that this re-election was the most disgraceful midterm election in federal history. It was not a victory for the people's free will, but a victory for the vile political tactics of the Socialist Party.

They used extremely malicious methods to steal fairness, justice, democracy, and freedom from the people's hands, using bloody facts to tell people that in the eyes of the Socialist Party, everyone is just a pawn on a chessboard, not a chess player on the sidelines.

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The editor concluded by writing, "If I were the President, I would write a letter of resignation and submit it to Congress out of shame, instead of shamelessly hosting a celebration of a conspiratorial victory in his villa."

Federalist newspapers also reported similar news, denouncing the President for crushing the things that Federal citizens were most proud of in the world and throwing them into the trash, claiming that the Federation was about to enter a dark age…

However, for ordinary people, who is President may not have a big impact.

On the day of the President's successful re-election, the Presidential Press Secretary announced several decrees that the President had just signed, including a decree on a total alcohol ban.

From that moment on, the Federation entered a state of total prohibition. All states were required to stop the production, brewing, transportation, and sale of alcoholic beverages, including fermented wheat juice.

At the same time, the newly implemented prohibition order also clearly stipulated that the Federal Customs would stop approving customs declarations for alcoholic beverages. In other words, the Federation would not allow the import of alcoholic beverages.

The unprecedentedly strict decree immediately left all the drunks in all the states at a loss.

Meanwhile, reliable sources rumored that Congress was discussing the establishment of a new law enforcement agency to be specifically responsible for related inspections.

They planned to draw some elite members from the Federal Revenue Service, the Federal Treasury Department, and the Federal Department of Justice to form a new law enforcement agency specializing in investigating and handling matters related to alcohol, drugs, and smuggling.

As soon as this news came out, the price of existing alcoholic beverages throughout the Federation skyrocketed, and Nabo Winery's market value soared because it had stored a large number of various types of alcohol!

Not only them, but the market value of other wineries and enterprises that stored a large number of alcoholic beverages also underwent tremendous changes.

The financial market was once again shaken by the alcoholic beverage industry, and countless hot millionaires were freshly minted.

For the current Federation, alcohol is money!

It's just that the content that should have been heavily reported was overshadowed by the election scandal and was not so noticeable in public opinion.

In the morning, two trucks came to the side of the office. Lance organized people to move the clothes from the trucks. He rented a warehouse in a back street, and these clothes would be temporarily stored in the warehouse.

All of them were brand new clothes, blue work clothes, wear-resistant, corrosion-resistant, and the fabric might be a bit hard, not as comfortable as cotton and linen, but the key point was that they were wear-resistant and free!

The office was very busy, and the relationship between Lance and Vaughn continued to heat up. Illegal immigrants and immigrant groups on the dock also began to be divided into two parts.

One part was ordinary immigrants who found jobs on their own, and the other part was immigrants from the office.

In order to better manage these people, Lance asked Sean to design a file and card. Everyone who registered here would have their own file.

When, whose work card they used, where they worked, how much their salary was, and how they were doing were all recorded in detail.

Lance planned to turn passive into active, no longer letting the workers find jobs themselves, but taking the initiative to talk to people on the dock about dispatch issues.

These people were now independent from other immigrant groups, and they were also beginning to get used to being dispatched and managed by the office.

This formed a very excellent snowball effect, because the office here could better help federal citizens arrange work card rentals, and they just had to collect money on time every month.

So more people chose to deposit their work cards with Lance, and because Lance had more job opportunities to provide to illegal immigrants, many illegal immigrants came from other districts every day, hoping to get job opportunities from here.

Early in the morning, the outside of the office was already crowded with people, and the curious eyes of these illegal immigrants revealed some longing.

Many people, from the time they came to the Federation until now, for several months or even a year, had not bought a new piece of clothing.

The exploitation and oppression of them by the Federal society forced them to plan the whereabouts of every penny.

As long as the clothes were not torn and could still be worn, they would not change them. Sewing and mending was only a matter of a few cents, but they could not afford to change a set of clothes.

Sometimes life is very tolerant. Look at those people who live in the Bay Area. They drive convertibles with beautiful girls on the coastal highway.

Sometimes life is also very cruel. Just look at these illegal immigrants and you'll know.

But who can not yearn for new clothes?

"Come over and help," Lance called out, and soon more people came to help. They sent the clothes from the truck to the warehouse. When they were almost done moving, Lance asked people to gather them together.

There were at least two or three hundred people here. The alley on the side of the road extended to the road. Some passers-by curiously ran over to see what was happening here.

Morris moved a chair for Lance so that he could stand in a higher place so that more people could see him.

"All workers who have filed with the office, as long as they have worked here for a month, can receive a set of clothes from here, a top, a pair of pants, and two pairs of gloves."

There were exclamations from the crowd, and someone shouted loudly, "Mr. Lance, do we have to pay for these clothes?"

Lance told them loudly, "You don't need to pay even a penny!"

"But I also need to tell you that this is your work clothes. As long as you are working, you must wear them. I will arrange for someone to check!"

"If someone is not wearing them at work, I will consider whether you can find a job here next month."

"Federal people don't like us. They think we are poor, lowly, humble, ugly, and even thieves and criminals. They look at us with the eyes of criminals."

"We do not accept such unfounded accusations. Perhaps changing into a clean and tidy set of clothes cannot immediately change their perception of us."

"But at least, we ourselves must make ourselves look clean and tidy, so that they cannot find an excuse to attack us from the aspect of appearance."

"We cannot become perfect in a short time, but at least we are changing!"

Then someone shouted again, "What if the clothes are worn out?"

Lance looked at the person who shouted, "If you can wear out the clothes, you bring the clothes back, and I will have someone replace them with new ones!"

Someone couldn't wait any longer, "Mr. Lance, what are we waiting for? Let's distribute the clothes quickly!"

Lance signaled Sean to do the registration, and then stood aside.

Sean had a clever mind, and it was indeed a waste of his talent to do these things. A few tables, a few staff members, and then come to collect the clothes with a work card.

During this period, someone tried to get an extra set and was discovered. Not only was the set he received taken back, but his work card was also cancelled!

In other words, he will not be able to get a job opportunity here, and his original job opportunity will be transferred to others.

Those who did not meet the conditions for receiving the clothes looked at this side with great desire, and then applied for work cards and looked for jobs that suited them.

In just one morning, more than a thousand sets were issued, and some people had not come to collect them, or did not know about it, but Lance believed that they would know soon.

From the next day, a very strange phenomenon appeared in the port area. Those illegal immigrants, at least in terms of dressing, looked more formal than the local workers!

They had uniform uniforms, and the nameplate on their chest had their file number and name in the office.

The name, address, and phone number of Wanli Labor Services Office were printed on the back, but of course this was not important.

The dockworkers' union was the first to discover this situation. Their sense of smell on the dock was extremely sensitive. The chairman directly called several people in charge over.

The chairman's name was Scott. He was slender and also wore a high-end suit with a fancy tie.

He came to the conference room first, stood by the window, looking at the workers in uniform in the distance on the dock, thinking about something.

As the others came to the conference room, he returned to his seat and sat down.

A few minutes later, he glanced at his watch and stopped waiting. "Let's not worry about the others who didn't come. Does anyone know what's going on with those people?"

"Some people have already called me asking if we are doing uniform work clothes and when we will issue them to them. How come I don't know about this?"

Vaughn raised his hand, and Scott looked at him, "You know?"

Vaughn nodded, "I talked to you about it last time. Have you forgotten?"

Scott was stunned for a moment. His eyes were a little blank. Vaughn reminded him, "Donation."

His eyes suddenly focused, "Yes, I remember, that..."

He lowered his head and frowned, like he was constipated.

Vaughn continued to remind him, "Lance."

He raised his head, pointing at Vaughn with a look of satisfaction. "Yes, Lance, that's the name. So, these people are all illegal immigrants?"

Vaughn nodded. "I'm afraid that's exactly the case."

Scott began to feel a headache coming on. "This is a bit of a problem. I've received quite a few calls just now, and from what they're saying, they're hoping we'll do the same thing."

"But we don't have any plans for that right now!"

Uniform work clothes sound easy, but it freaking costs money!

Who's going to pay for it?

The union?

Or the capitalists?

Or even the workers themselves?

Damn it, what's Lance up to, putting the union in such a passive position!