Empire of Shadows

Heller stood on the upper floor of the Imperial Nights nightclub. Through the window, he could see several groups of police officers on the street below.

Some of the police were even questioning his men.

It wasn't just here; some of the other senior members were also being watched by the police because of last night's goddamn shootout.

Will was dead.

Actually, he didn't really care who lived or died.

When the Calamity Gang first came to the Federation, how many people died trying to gain a foothold here?

That was the real, brutal battle. Almost every few days, some people would disappear completely from everyone's lives, and new faces would join.

Heller's grandfather, father, uncles, aunts, brothers, and sisters—more than a dozen of them—had died, but he had never cared that much, especially after he took this position!

As long as it wasn't him who died.

There were countless people outside who wanted to join the Camilla Gang.

He could just find a cadre he liked and promote them to a senior position, and wouldn't the ranks be filled again?

The reason his face looked so bad now was that someone dared to challenge him, to challenge the Camilla Gang, and he was also furious that Will, knowing he was supposed to pick up the goods today, had caused such a big mess.

The people he had arranged to pick up the goods were also being watched by the police, who suspected they might retaliate with a shootout.

To control the situation and prevent these gangsters from shooting it out in the middle of the street in broad daylight, many police officers had come to watch them.

This was said to reduce public anxiety and ensure the city's crime rate, so they would be watching these people closely for at least a week or two.

How could they pick up the goods while being watched by the police?

That booze was already at sea, damn it, and about to arrive in the waters outside the port.

These smugglers weren't nice guys. If no one showed up to make contact when the time came, they would just take the goods and leave.

Heller had already paid for the booze.

The Camilla Gang wasn't like the Five Families, which all had some smuggling business or enough clout to have people bring the goods first and then pay later.

Heller didn't have that much clout with the smugglers, so he had to pay first, and then they would deliver the goods.

As for whether he could pick them up, that had nothing to do with them; they were only responsible for delivery.

In other words, if he didn't pick up this $200,000 worth of goods, they would rather dump the booze into the sea than wait for him.

His anger at this moment was beyond words: a bastard who dared to challenge the gang's authority, and a dead ghost who had cost him $200,000!

It seemed like there was still a long time before dark, but in reality, it was only a dozen hours. He had to make a choice.

He picked up the phone, hesitated for a moment, and dialed the boss of the Red Dog Gang. The Red Dog Gang spanned two districts, the Imperial District and the Port District, but they weren't considered a highly dangerous gang.

Their main source of income was collecting protection money, providing protection for all commercial establishments, such as the bar Lance had gone to before.

They provided the bar with six security guards, and the bar owner only needed to pay 500 dollars for protection money, with no other fees.

This amount of money was nothing to an underground bar; they could earn it back in a few days with more customers.

In addition to this, there were some other sources of income, such as theft and pimping, but overall, they weren't very serious crimes and were considered a 'friendly gang'.

Therefore, there were no major conflicts between the two sides.

The call was quickly answered. "Hi, Brother Bill, it's Heller."

"What's up?"

"It's like this, I've run into a bit of trouble. I have a shipment coming in tonight, but I can't get away to pick it up, so I'm thinking of transferring the shipment to you."

"And..."

The Red Dog Gang leader, Bill, interrupted him. "What kind of goods?"

"Booze, worth $200,000, which can be sold for over $350,000 on the market. Just give me $180,000, and it's yours."

The guy on the other end was decisive, slashing right at the main artery. "$100,000."

Heller was choked for a moment. "It can be sold for $350,000. At $180,000, you already have a profit of almost double."

A woman's laughter came from the receiver. Bill refused directly. "I don't want it..."

The next second, the phone was hung up.

Heller stared at the receiver in his hand for a while, cursed a few times, and dialed another number.

This was the phone number of a gang leader in the West End. They had no conflicts with the Camilla Gang, whether in business or territory, and they were also immigrants. Heller had met their boss a few times and could be considered to have some acquaintance.

But as soon as he mentioned this matter, the other party refused. The reason was simple: they didn't have that deep of a relationship, and last night's shootout had made the police in the Port District and the Imperial District very nervous.

Picking up the goods was a big risk. What if they failed to pick them up, or if they picked them up but were discovered by the police? Who would bear the loss?

Instead of taking the risk of spending money to take on this job, it was better to wait until the police weren't so nervous and arrange for a ship themselves.

Everyone was now planning, or already doing, the bootlegging business and didn't want to ruin their original business for a small profit.

After hanging up the phone helplessly, Heller's chest hurt from anger!

He took out a special medicine and swallowed a pill, which seemed to make him feel a little better.

There was still one guy's phone number he hadn't dialed. He didn't really want to dial this number, but now it might be his last chance.

"Hi, Big Polly, it's me, Heller."

"Ho, Heller, Heller!"

"I remember you. Is there anything you need me to take care of?"

The flamboyant voice that came from the receiver made Heller feel like he could see the guy, even though he couldn't.

This was also why Heller didn't like him very much.

In fact, if the people of Goldport City could avoid having any contact with Big Polly, they would. The guy wasn't very bright. The fact that he had sprayed a crowded street with a submachine gun in broad daylight was enough for people to understand how bad his brain was.

"I've run into a bit of trouble. I have a shipment coming in from the sea tonight, but I'm being watched by the police and can't get away."

"I'm thinking of transferring this shipment, and maybe you'd be interested."

The receiver immediately emitted his very personal and distinctive voice. "That's right, I'm interested in any business that makes money."

"So, Heller, what can you give me, and what do I need to pay for it?"

Heller took a deep breath. "Booze worth $200,000, which can be sold for $350,000 on the market. I've already paid for it. You can just pick up the goods directly."

"As a price, you give me $100,000, and the goods are yours."

After about ten seconds, the reply that Heller was very satisfied with came from the other end. "No problem, but one thing, I need to receive the goods and confirm that my people and the goods are safe before I give you the money."

"Of course, of course, that's how it should be."

"Heller, I have to say, you're a very interesting person. Maybe we can become good friends."

"Then tell me the time, location, password, and everything for picking up the goods..."

After hanging up the phone, Heller breathed a slight sigh of relief. It seemed that just yesterday, he was still thinking about how he could take the lion's share of the at least $150,000 profit this time.

As a result, a day later, twenty-four hours later, not only was the profit gone, but he had also lost $100,000.

That son of a bitch Will, that son of a bitch whatever his name was!

If the Red Dog Gang was a relatively mild gang, then the Camilla Gang was not mild at all.

Over the years, they had killed no small number of Imperials. Heller wasn't a kind or benevolent person either. He thought about it and dialed a phone number.

After the phone was connected, he said, "It's me," and then the other party hung up.

About four or five minutes later, the phone in front of him rang. "What's wrong?"

A muffled male voice sounded, which sounded like someone was covering the microphone with a handkerchief. This would change the voice, so even if someone recorded it, it would be useless.

"Who made a move on Will's case last night?" he asked, intending to recover the money he had lost from the other party.

Will was finished, and he didn't know Will's account and password, so this might be his only chance to get some compensation.

The voice of that person came from the receiver, "Currently, we believe that there is a high probability that the 'Lance Family' of Seventh Street in the Port District made a move, but so far there is no direct evidence."

"Many people are watching them now. If you don't want to cause trouble, you better not fucking do anything at this time."

"Also, don't just call the police station. Don't fucking kill me!"

The beeping sound of a busy signal came. Heller looked at the receiver for a while, put it back on the phone base, and then picked up a pen and wrote the crooked name "Lance Family" on a piece of paper.

Not only was the handwriting ugly, but he had also fucking misspelled it!

But none of this mattered. What mattered was that he knew who to go to to get back the $100,000 he had lost and the expected $150,000 profit!

Around ten o'clock, Lance arrived at the office and immediately saw the two police cars being "besieged".

The police had already obtained a search warrant and were trying to make a final "struggle". As long as they could find the gun that had fired the bullets they had found at the scene, Lance would have to go to the police station for investigation.

Going to the police station and not going to the police station were two completely different things.

The federal police were not kind people. Over the years, it was not uncommon news for suspects to die in police stations due to sudden illnesses.

Even federal laws have repeatedly added to the possible means and scope of "torture" to ensure the safety of suspects.

But even so, it was still often heard that suspects died violently in the police station.

Some were because they accidentally beat them too hard and killed them.

But there were also some who were told to shut them up.

If Lance went to the police station and no one bailed him out, he would definitely confess.

So far, even the toughest people, after a set of measures, would confess—they really used waterboarding!

Unfortunately, Lance didn't give them the chance, because those weapons had been returned to Big Beard.

If nothing unexpected happened, even if they found the weapons now, they would find that they had nothing to do with the bullets left at the scene.

At this time, they were surrounded by the workers, who glared at them, mistakenly thinking that these policemen were here to make trouble for Lance because of the Jamie and Johnny case.

Those sons-of-bitches federal police, when those people bullied them, the police ignored it even if they saw it.

But they just retaliated a little bit, and the police acted as if something big had happened and ran over here.

The anger born in the collective will infect the people around them, and soon these people began to push the police in the crowd.

The police didn't dare to fight back too much, so they could only hide back in the car. If Lance hadn't arrived in time, they even planned to overturn the police car!

Seeing Lance coming, the people's violent emotions calmed down a bit. He simply said a few words to the leading workers inside, and the workers surrounding here dispersed at once.

The police who came this time were from the city police station, not the port area.

"Mr. Lance, it seems that you are very respected here.", the police officer said this with unclear meaning, Lance just smiled and nodded.

"People respect those who can provide them with work and a stable life."

He paused, "Do you have a search warrant?"

The police officer showed the search warrant, and Lance handed it to Sean after reading it, "You can search, but don't touch the archives, it's troublesome to organize those things."

"I don't like trouble, if you cause me trouble…"

The police officer looked at him, "And then?"

Lance smiled and didn't say anything, just nodded twice, "Please."

The police officers from the two cars got out. As "fingerprints" were included in the judicial evidence chain in previous years, these police officers were searching with gloves on.

They searched almost everywhere, even the toilet tank in the bathroom.

Some people also took an iron rod and knocked on the wall, seemingly looking for hidden compartments or something.

Perhaps Lance's warning had worked, they didn't mess up the archives, and of course, those archives could be seen clearly at a glance.

Whether there were weapons or hidden things could be seen through at a glance.

It was almost twelve o'clock when they completed all the detailed search work, and even the yard and alley behind the office were searched by them.

"Looks like you handled it very cleanly, Mr. Lance.", the leading police officer stood by the road, taking off his gloves while saying.

Lance never fell for this kind of trap-filled words, "I don't quite understand what you mean, but as a federal citizen, I will unconditionally cooperate with the law enforcement power granted to you by the judiciary."

"Now, are you sure you have finished searching, and found anything you want?"

The police officer shook his head, "I hope you can always be so careful!"

He said and left with the police officers, but whether it was him or Lance, they both knew that this matter was far from over.

Lance returned to the office, many people were looking at him. Facing the gazes of these people, he "scolded" in a confident voice, "What are you all staring at, continue working!"

He returned to the office, called Hiram over, and took out thirty dollars from the drawer and placed it on the table.

"Go buy some gifts, take the money, and send them to Johnny's house, and then go to the hospital to visit him and tell him that we have obtained the forgiveness of his family."

"Tell him not to talk nonsense, I can't take care of him now, and don't let me take care of him, you know what to say."

Hiram nodded and packed up the money, "Tell him the seriousness of the matter."

Lance pointed at him, "Yes, tell him how serious this is, and then go see Alvin, see if he needs anything…"

Dealing with Johnny's problem was because Lance considered that if Officer Lucar or the Goldenport City police planned to confront him.

Then Johnny might become a disgusting breakthrough, such as making him bite to death that Lance broke his arm, and then refusing to reconcile or something.

Although Lance could be sure that he would not go to jail for this matter in the end, the police could use the witness's statement to call him to the police station multiple times, and even put him under blatant surveillance.

This is very annoying, so he has to warn Johnny in advance, don't do stupid things!

After sending Hiram away, Lance drove to the pier, he felt that someone was following him.

In the Federation, those who can have law enforcement power without wearing police uniforms, in addition to the plainclothes police of the city bureau, are only a few law enforcement agencies such as the Federal Bureau of Investigation.

But I don't think this small case will alarm the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Of course, the current Federal Bureau of Investigation is actually not a strong agency. Although it has been established for a while, it has not shown strength in the law enforcement department.

Then the correct answer seems to be only one, Officer Lucar, or someone he arranged.

Lance didn't regard this stalking as any trouble, and went directly to the pier.

He contracted the workers' club, so naturally he had to come and see how it should be transformed.

On the way, he saw Vaughn, and chatted with Vaughn. Vaughn seemed to want to say something but couldn't say it. Lance felt that he might know about the firefight last night.

Goldenport City is definitely a big city in this era, but for those with convenient information dissemination channels, it is also a small city.

The area of the workers' club is very large, and Lance had a general idea after looking around, and at the same time, he also found the flashing golden light here.

In fact, it has a lot of potential, but the people in the union are still too timid, but he is bold.

All day long, Lance behaved as usual. In fact, whether it was him or the people following him, they all knew that in a short time, he would not be stupid enough to take the initiative to do anything that could easily cause problems.

Now staring at him is just an "explanation".

An explanation to the public who actually don't care much about this matter, and an explanation to themselves.

At more than one o'clock in the evening, Jimmy led his men to drive a speedboat to appear in the sea area outside the port, and soon he found the person who came to deliver the goods.

After matching the code, he immediately got a large batch of wine.

The other party had no intention of communicating with him throughout the whole process, watching them move the goods away, and then directly drove the boat away.

And Jimmy, took a large batch of speedboats filled with wine and returned to the warehouse…