Empire of Shadows
#137 - Premeditation
That evening, on the third floor of the Empire Nights nightclub, Heller sat in his favorite boss's chair.
He was still dressed in his usual attire: tea-colored sunglasses, a floral shirt, and a light-colored jacket. He seemed quite pleased with his taste.
This choice of outfit allowed him to position himself as carefree and cynical, a label he hoped would stick.
In front of the desk, the executives were either sitting or standing. At first glance, anyone would likely think this was a politician's or a capitalist's office.
But in reality, this was just a gang's office.
"I've had people thoroughly investigate Will's death. It was done by a force called the 'Lance Family,' most of whom are immigrants from the Empire."
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"I don't care how they feuded with Will, the bottom line is they killed one of us."
"This is our territory. We're the only ones who cause trouble for others, not the other way around. So, this matter won't be left at that."
"We must avenge Will!" he slammed the table, but the executives' reactions weren't so enthusiastic.
How much cohesion can a gang have when its main business is kidnapping and bullying its own people?
Some executives even guard against each other, lest they be harmed by their good friends.
Will is dead?
So be it. People don't care about that. With one less high-ranking executive, they can divide a little more money.
They also knew very well that Heller didn't really want to avenge Will and was just looking for trouble with Lance because of the rumors they'd been hearing lately.
The Lance Family sponsors college students, even giving them houses and cars.
They didn't quite understand why Lance was doing this, but they all knew Lance was very rich.
If he wasn't rich, he wouldn't dare make such promises. Even if Heller didn't say anything, they themselves were actually quietly inquiring about Lance and the Lance Family.
To them, the Empire people have money, but the money isn't necessarily theirs. It could also be theirs, the Camilla Gang's!
Although their reaction wasn't enthusiastic, they wouldn't object to causing trouble for Lance either. It's all about making money anyway.
A wealthy little gang, wiped out is wiped out.
A senior executive coughed. He looked somewhat thin, wearing a white shirt and a cyan jacket. "Let's get to the point. Are we trying to kidnap him, or are we starting a gang war?"
Everyone else's attention was drawn to this question, which was also what they wanted to ask.
If it's just kidnapping, maybe a senior executive could take some men to try it.
As long as they seize the opportunity to capture Lance, they can kidnap him.
For the Camilla Gang, kidnapping doesn't distinguish between "broad daylight" and "sneaking around." When they see someone, even if they're driving a car, they'll directly ram into the car, then drag the person out and stuff them into their own car and leave the scene. That's what they're best at.
Kidnapping costs less and is cheaper. There might be some vehicle damage when forcing the target's car to stop, but that's the biggest expense.
A few hundred dollars is enough for them to kidnap someone.
But a gang war is different. A gang war requires a larger investment. If you want those low-level gang members to risk their lives for you, you have to show enough sincerity.
People aren't stupid.
Perhaps some gangs, like the most united Sumuli people's gang, don't need various rewards and promises to motivate them. Everyone can work hard because they have that kind of atmosphere.
Everyone is very united. If something happens to one person, others will try to help, so people rarely say "the Sumuli people's gang" and instead use "a certain family" to express it.
They treat gang members like family.
But the Camilla Gang obviously lacks such an atmosphere and environment. If you don't feed people well, these low-level members aren't all fools and won't really risk their lives.
Whether they can make them risk their lives depends on whether Heller can afford to pay.
A lot of money.
So, every gang war is a choice of fate for the gang.
If they lose, after spending a lot of money and favors without any gain, but instead suffer heavy losses, they may not be able to recover for a year or two.
If they win, then naturally they can earn back both the principal and the interest, and the gang's size and status will rise to a higher level.
Heller's gaze swept across the faces of these executives one by one. He knew what these people were thinking. They all wanted to start a gang war.
Because only in this way would Heller give them a large sum of money first.
He was also considering such gains and losses. In the end, the idea of saving as much as possible prevailed. "Let's try kidnapping first and see if we can kidnap him."
His gaze swept across the faces of the remaining senior executives one by one, and finally locked on the cyan-clad executive who had just spoken, "Liam, you go."
The guy who was named supported himself with his knees and stood up, straightening his collar, "No problem."
Heller looked at him, "Can I get good news?"
"Of course!"
After everyone left, only two of Heller's confidants remained. One of them was not very optimistic about Liam kidnapping Lance.
"Kidnapping the leader of a small gang isn't an easy task. I reckon he'll screw it up. If they retaliate at that time, it's likely to continuously expand the scale of the war."
Heller shook his wine glass, the wine in the glass slowly circling along the wall of the glass. He didn't seem very worried, "Just a small gang of dozens of people…"
Seeing that Heller didn't take this small family seriously, the speaker naturally wouldn't say more. He knew Heller's bad temper very well.
Compared to the kidnapping and the unknown amount of money that could be extorted, Heller's mind was now full of his liquor.
Damn Big Polly!
On the weekend, the state government issued a notice that all cities in the entire state must establish a Tobacco, Alcohol, and Hazardous Materials Administration. In addition to the possibility that the director would be arranged by the state or federal government, the backbone members would be recommended by local law enforcement agencies.
Local police, tax bureaus, judicial bureaus, including the FBI, all had the qualification to recommend.
The Chief of the Goldenport City Police Department recommended more than twenty candidates to the state government, but he couldn't guarantee how many people would be selected.
But Officer Lucar used his connections, so there was no possibility of being eliminated.
He had actually been in the position of police chief for not too long, but no matter how long he could stay, he didn't want everything to get out of control.
The transfer order quickly arrived at the city police department. Amidst the shocked and jealous gazes of some colleagues, Officer Lucar went to the Assistant Chief's office to hand over his work.
Everyone knew that this new administration would be a very hot department.
The entire city's underworld was full of smuggled alcohol, and this department was destined to have connections with many criminal organizations and capitalists, but now, they had no chance.
All those who were selected were ecstatic, while those who were not selected could only vent their helpless emotions.
Officer Lucar… could no longer be called an officer now. He was appointed as a senior agent (special agent) of the new Tobacco, Alcohol, and Hazardous Materials Administration and would undergo a month-long intensive training before taking office after the New Year.
Even the location of this new law enforcement department had been finalized, not far from the city hall, and had already begun renovations.
In his televised speech, the President repeatedly criticized some regions for their lack of enthusiasm, or even negligence, in implementing the prohibition of alcohol.
He could express understanding, after all, for some regions that produced various alcoholic beverages, banning alcohol meant cutting off their important financial and economic sources.
But they cannot ignore the responsibilities they should bear and value because of tax revenue, social responsibility.
Banning alcohol is not the business of one person, one family, or one region. It will change the current situation in the Federation where there are many alcoholics, minimize domestic violence, and increase productivity.
In short, stricter alcohol prohibition measures are imperative!
Goldenport City also felt this atmosphere, and the price of alcohol was even higher.
"I've already contacted the winery over in Ya Lan. After watching the important match in early December, we'll set off."
Alberto sat on the sofa with his legs crossed. This was his first time at Lance's financial office.
Today, he came back from handling business in the Bay Area and stopped by here to see Lance.
He had always heard that the business here was doing well, but he had never seen it with his own eyes. Today, he finally saw it.
Every so often, someone would come in with their employee card to borrow money. Although the amount of each loan wasn't large, the quantity was huge!
And the most convenient thing about Lance's model is that it's not difficult to recover the money.
They are essentially paying the interest and principal in advance, just waiting for a period of time to cash in.
Lance here has a very good relationship with the dockworkers' union recently, and the workers here can't think of defaulting on their debts.
This gave him some ideas, but he quickly rejected them.
Because selling alcohol makes much more money than this.
Lance sat behind his desk, sitting naturally. They had a good relationship, so he didn't need to sit on the edge of the sofa, "I also have some gaps recently, we'll go together when the time comes."
Alberto was a little curious, "How did you convince the dockworkers' union to let you sell alcohol at the docks?"
"Juice!" Lance emphasized, "It's normal for juice to ferment slightly during transportation and storage. I don't think that's illegal."
"Just like… bread!"
"Alcohol is also produced during bread fermentation. If the federal government completely disregards facts, then they should ban bread as well, because bread also contains alcohol!"
This was the first time Alberto had heard the saying that bread also contains alcohol. He kept it in mind, thinking he might be able to use it to impress someone someday.
Eating bread is equivalent to drinking alcohol; the Federation should ban eating bread—what a shocking statement! Those girls will definitely love it!
Speaking of this, Alberto asked a question, "Do you know anyone else who has a large quantity of mid-to-high-end alcohol besides your previous batch?"
Lance shook his head, "That batch of alcohol was just something I happened to come across. If you still want more, I can only say I'm sorry, at least I don't have any here."
"However, I've heard that there are many grape plantations near Yalan. Almost every country is brewing wine and brandy, so you'll definitely be able to find something suitable."
Alberto nodded and said, "This trip is to establish a fixed and long-term business relationship."
In fact, Sumeri Island also produces high-quality wine and brandy, but Sumeri Island is a bit far from the Federation, and the long sea route will double the travel expenses and risks.
The sea has not only storms but also pirates.
On the other hand, Yalan is right next to the Federation, connected by land, and there is no significant danger in sea transport. You can stick close to the continental shelf and dock at any time.
He paused and said, "Recently, another batch of mid-to-high-end alcohol has appeared on the market, slightly disrupting the boss's plan. He wants to know who is selling this batch of alcohol. If you can find out, the family will owe you a favor."
Lance pretended to think for a moment, but he actually had no idea who it was.
If Hiram hadn't coincidentally gotten him that batch of alcohol, he might still be clueless about many things.
In fact, after Mr. Pasreto obtained Lance's alcohol, he already had a comprehensive plan and was implementing it quite well. He provided alcoholic beverages to many wealthy people in the Bay Area, thereby establishing deeper connections with them to varying degrees.
Moreover, the state government also had a great need for high-end alcoholic beverages, especially the state's upper and lower houses. These state senators and representatives were also major consumers of alcoholic beverages.
Discussing matters related to power in private rooms, the absence of a high-end drink would be a regrettable lack for these gentlemen in the dim light and shadows, as if they were missing a soul!
Expanding from King's Harbor City to radiate across the country was Mr. Pasreto's idea.
He didn't want people to only say, "Oh, I've heard of them, that's one of the five major families in King's Harbor City..." when they mentioned the Pasreto family.
He wanted people to say, "That's one of the five major families in the Federation!" when they mentioned him and his family.
Of course, six major families would also work, any number would do, but the prefix of King's Harbor City must be changed to the Federation.
Originally, everything was going smoothly, but recently someone suddenly disrupted the situation. Pasreto had people inquire but didn't get any valuable information because the person shipping the goods was an intermediary.
Someone gave the alcohol to Peter to sell. As the most lethal broker in the area, he started shipping large quantities with almost no difficulty.
Moreover, brandy and wine are slightly more upscale than the whiskey that Lance provided to Mr. Pasreto in terms of application scenarios. His plan can't be said to have completely failed.
After all, there are also big shots who like whiskey; it's just that it wasn't perfectly completed.
Lance was able to get such a large batch of alcohol, perhaps he could get some news.
But it seemed regrettable; Lance didn't know who the supplier was either.
At this moment, someone suddenly knocked on the door. The two paused their conversation, and Lance said, "Come in." The door opened.
Hiram glanced at Alberto. Lance indicated that he could speak. He flipped his hair and said, "Someone is watching us; there are also people in the back alley."
Lance frowned slightly. The first person he subconsciously thought of was Officer Lucar, but he quickly felt that it shouldn't be him.
He was now cleaner than clean from top to bottom. Officer Lucar should know this and have withdrawn everyone. Why would he suddenly arrange for people to come again?
He asked, "Do they look like police officers?"
Hiram shook his head, "They don't have the aura of police officers. They look like people from other gangs."
Alberto suddenly became interested.
He wasn't interested in dealing with the police, but he was very interested in gang warfare. "Need help?" he asked proactively, "Do you want me to have a batch of weapons brought over?"
He then spoke as if complaining, or rather, reminding Lance, "You need to find a way to get your own channels and talent."
"The old man with the beard saves me a lot of money every year just by re-rifling the barrels."
If all the guns used in crimes were destroyed, it would cost hundreds or even thousands of dollars each time.
They had to be destroyed because ballistics had been incorporated into the scope of evidence, and scientists said that there couldn't be two identical rifling patterns in the world, just like fingerprints.
If a gang was poor, they might reuse them, and then during an arrest, all previous cases would be dug up, leading to a life sentence or even the electric chair.
Those who were slightly less poor might try to sell the guns cheaply on the black market, and then it would be none of their business who took the blame.
Some people would sell the guns to foreign regions. Although there would still be losses, the losses would be relatively smaller.
As for those who were very rich?
A tainted witness once described the whereabouts of these guns in court—
"Before each operation, we would get a new gun. After we killed someone, we would walk to someone holding a sack and put the fired weapons into the sack one by one, and then our people would throw the sack into the deep sea..."
Alberto's bearded guy solved this problem well, but it wasn't permanent.
The consequence of constantly re-rifling the barrels was that they became less and less accurate, but the gang members didn't care.
Sometimes the purpose of shooting wasn't really to kill someone, but to tell others, I have the courage to shoot, but do you have the courage to be shot?
Lance fully accepted Alberto's reminder, "I'll find a gunsmith when this period is over, as for weapon channels."
Alberto continued, "I'll introduce you to a seller; he's one of us."
Lance accepted his kindness. Alberto called someone to send over a batch of weapons, of course, they would be charged, and he told him that the bearded guy would still give him a friendly price of 60% of the original value for recycling.
Lance looked at Hiram, "Catch one and bring him back for questioning."
As for catching the wrong person?
Give them some money, and there will be plenty of people willing to be wrongly arrested!
After Hiram left, Alberto walked to Lance's side and flipped his hair like Hiram, "Is he always like this?"
Lance couldn't help but laugh, "The doctor said he can't be cured..."
The two looked at each other and laughed heartily.
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