Empire of Shadows

"Good work."

Lukaal patted his subordinate's shoulder, watching as a large amount of liquor was loaded into the warehouse.

These liquors had already been inventoried, worth over fifty thousand dollars. The haul wasn't huge, but it wasn't small either.

Considering the recent crackdown on the Lance family's liquor smuggling, this was a considerable gain.

The Prohibition agents all wore smiles on their faces.

Perhaps at first, they really did follow the procedure in the manual: seize the illegally brewed or smuggled liquor, then publicly destroy it after counting.

But now, many agents would keep a bottle or two for themselves during the process, or even a whole case!

Of course, it depended on who their superior was. If they had someone who didn't allow such behavior, they would behave themselves.

But if they encountered someone easygoing, like Lukaal, they could all take a bottle or two home.

As long as they didn't sell it and weren't caught selling it, Lukaal would turn a blind eye to their little actions.

This work habit was carried over from the police department. Previously, in the police department, they would also divide the money, calculating all the 'fees' collected from various sources and then distributing them evenly.

He could also get a good share, about one or two hundred dollars each month.

He never thought he shouldn't take this money. He was a criminal police officer, a very dangerous type of police officer.

People say patrol officers are dangerous because, when they're on duty, they don't know if some idiot will suddenly freak out and start shooting at them.

But when criminal investigators go to handle a case, there's an even higher chance that those people will shoot at them first!

Risking your life for forty-odd dollars a month? You'd have to be crazy!

So, this isn't a bad habit, at least it promotes harmony among everyone.

As long as it doesn't affect the "administration of justice," he wouldn't care too much.

Compared to the smiles on other people's faces, the smile on his face was noticeably smaller.

That cunning Lance made him feel like he had prepared a great meal but was missing the seasoning. It was no fun not catching a big case.

He was forever chasing after Lance, running after his ass. That's not what he wanted.

The chaos in the city during this period caused the business of bars to decline continuously. If business hadn't been bad, affected to some extent, he might not have found a warehouse with even fifty thousand dollars worth of liquor.

At the same time, a doubt arose deep in his heart: Had Beno betrayed him?

Allen was a new captain in the Lance family who was rising rapidly. He would definitely be able to access more family information.

Lukaal had previously revealed some information to help Beno and Allen gain Lance's trust. Logically speaking, Allen and he should have been able to find out more important information, so why was the information he was getting still so insignificant?

Tens of thousands of dollars worth of liquor was a lot to ordinary people, but for the increasingly hot smuggled liquor market and underground bars, it was just a few days' worth of goods.

What he was thinking about was whether Beno was using this "worthless" information to string him along.

He decided to test Beno the next time he contacted him.

If Beno had betrayed him, then he would make Beno regret everything he had done.

If the other party hadn't betrayed him, then he would continue to keep Beno's secret.

On the top page of the notepad on the table, he wrote the letter "B" with a pen, followed by two question marks.

After looking at it for a while, he tore off the page, shredded it, and threw it into the trash can.

He organized the report, reviewed it twice to make sure there were no problems, and then took the report to Director Dale's office.

Dale was on the phone. He signaled for Lukaal to wait a moment.

"...Yeah, okay, I understand. I definitely won't screw things up, don't worry."

"Okay... that's it, I have other things here. I'll call you back when I have news."

Director Dale hung up the phone. He ran his hands back over his scalp from his hairline, the pressure from his palms relieving some of his stress.

The failure of the mayor's plan had left him in a somewhat passive position. If the mayor couldn't hold on and gave up, then his days as a former "vanguard of resistance" in Goldport City would be very difficult.

Although, on the surface, the Tobacco, Alcohol, and Hazardous Materials Administration was a vertically managed department, not subject to the management of local governments, it would be nonsense to say that it was completely unaffected by the attitude of local governments.

After all, all the agents had to live in this city, work here, live, and deal with the people and things here. They couldn't be truly independent in any real sense.

He also had a terrible headache.

He temporarily suppressed the mess in his mind and looked up at Lukaal, "What is it?"

Lukaal handed over the report. He casually flipped through it a few times. He was in no mood to look at it now. After roughly understanding the cause, process, and result of the matter, he signed his name on the last page of the document.

This was a report for a reward application. According to the regulations of the Hazardous Materials Administration, if a tip-off exceeding ten thousand dollars was successful, they could receive a 25% "commission" from the value of the case.

He was worried that Beno would betray him under Lance's financial offensive, so he had saved all the rewards generated by the several pieces of information Beno had provided.

He told Beno that this money would be given to him after his undercover career ended.

Clean money, no need to be afraid to use it, and a considerable amount.

Like this time, he had a profit of more than thirteen thousand dollars. Accumulating it several times would be an amazing number!

Director Dale, after signing, gave the application report to Lukaal and kept the case file.

"Good job, Lukaal. I can't find any fault with your work!"

After saying these words, the two men stared at each other for more than ten seconds, until Director Dale showed an expression of "What the hell are you still doing here?" Then Lukaal got up, "I'm going back to work."

Director Dale nodded. Just as Lukaal was about to leave the room, he suddenly called out, "Lukaal..."

Lukaal turned back and looked at him in confusion. He showed a smile, "You're doing great, keep it up. You're very important to us!"

This sentence... clearly sounded more like a politician's statement. Lukaal smiled, gave a simple and casual salute, and closed the door.

Previously, Director Dale would ask some details after receiving the report and constantly praise him. This time he didn't. He guessed it might be related to the recent situation, but these things didn't have much to do with him.

As soon as he returned to his office and sat down, the secretary reminded him, "Your wife just called you. You'd better call her back."

"Thank you!" Lukaal thanked her and picked up the phone, dialing the home number. The phone was answered quickly.

"Do you have action tonight?" his wife asked.

Lukaal lit a cigarette, "No, what's wrong?"

"Come home early. I've prepared a sumptuous meal. There's something important I want to talk to you about tonight."

"Hoo..." He exhaled a puff of smoke, hesitated for a few seconds, "Okay, I'll come back early."

For some reason, something that should have made him feel happy didn't make him feel any excitement.

Crime had been punished, so why was he even more irritable?

The documents and reports on the table suddenly made him feel an inexplicable irritability. Now he needed to rest, not continue working under pressure.

He told the secretary, "I'm going out for a while. If anyone is looking for me, but it's not very urgent, record their names and have them call tomorrow morning."

The secretary recorded it, "What if they're very anxious?"

Lukaal shook his head slightly, "Call my home phone in the evening."

After he finished speaking, he left without looking back. He needed to clear his head.

He first went to the finance office, put the money approved by the director into his bag, a total of seven stacks. Even he was a little tempted.

But compared to catching Lance and getting what he wanted, as well as the potential economic benefits, he could still resist these things.

As soon as the car left the Hazardous Materials Administration, he saw someone following him.

These people were Lance's men, he recognized them, openly following... no, it shouldn't be called following anymore, it should be called surveillance!

At first, he would try to get rid of these people, or have people cause trouble for them, but it was of no practical use, so he ignored them.

He had no evidence to prove that these people were following and monitoring him, rather than just taking the same road as him and having the same choices.

As a law enforcement worker, he sometimes felt that the Federation's laws were very fucked up.

He first went to the bank to deposit the money. The female bank teller kept flirting with him. If he just nodded, then he could have dinner with her tonight, watch a movie, and then find a hotel to rest. But he had promised his wife to come back early.

At this time, there was still a considerable amount of time before dinner. He drove to the nearby park, parked the car, bought something to eat, and walked into the park alone.

He needed to think seriously, think about himself, think about work, think about the future.

The hot dog was delicious, the yellow mustard sauce added more flavor and possibilities. He was like an ordinary person, sitting on a bench, eating something while seeming to be in a daze.

His mind was wandering, thinking about some things aimlessly, this one moment, that the next.

In fact, he had also been thinking about these questions recently, whether there was any real meaning in staring at Lance. His reason told him that there was no need.

There was still a lot of evil in this city, but his sensibility was constantly telling him that he had been played!

Lukar was actually a proud man because he was excellent.

He was excellent, so he obtained things that others didn't.

The director's favor, and progress in his career.

His excellence and pride didn't allow him to be played by a criminal without retaliating, even if he knew he shouldn't be so willful, he couldn't do it.

If people could be 100% rational, this world would have perished long ago.

He didn't know how long he had been here, the sky gradually darkened a bit, and the hot dog in his hand had long been finished.

The greaseproof paper used to wrap the hot dog was left near the trash can in the distance. It seemed that he hadn't thrown it in like a miracle pitcher.

Often times, people are like this, they pick up the waste paper that needs to be thrown away, crumple it into a ball, and shoot it towards the trash can like a basketball.

If they can make the shot, they will be in a good mood for a while.

Just at this moment, two young men walked over. They were wearing baseball caps of the sailing team and team uniforms. One of them was holding a baseball glove and a baseball in his hand.

The other person was holding a sailing team's baseball bat, which looked like a metal bat. They were both baseball enthusiasts.

In fact, so far, the federal baseball games are still mainly using wooden bats, but many folk enthusiasts will use metal bats.

After all, metal bats are more durable. Although the price of baseball bats is not high, they are ultimately consumables.

The sailing team had a good record last year. The better a team's record, the more people support it, and the more people like the sport.

The federal government promotes and encourages baseball, so almost all parks have places to play baseball.

Looking at the young men seeming carefree, a trace of envy and jealousy flashed in Lukar's eyes. He had also been so carefree once.

The two walked and passed the ball to each other. Not knowing who missed, the baseball suddenly rolled to the bottom of the bench where Lukar was sitting.

The two young men looked at him with shy smiles. He thought they were shy smiles, and his mood improved a little. On a whim, he wanted to throw away his troubles along with this baseball!

"I'll do it!" He bent down. The ball was deep under the seat. He had to bend lower to see it.

When his hand passed between his legs to the very deep place under the seat, it took him a long time to fish it out, and his entire face turned red.

Just as he was about to straighten up, he saw four legs not far in front of him.

The brand-new baseball shoes didn't look like they had been running on the turf. Everyone knew that people who play baseball couldn't have clean shoes.

He even saw the tag that hadn't been removed was still on the back of the shoes. These shoes were newly bought, even just now!

Then there were clean white elasticated long socks, without dust, snow-white and clean.

Perhaps it was this close observation that made him discover these unusual things. These two people didn't look like they had just finished playing baseball at all.

Suddenly, a thought that made him break out in a cold sweat appeared in his mind. He clenched the snow-white baseball in his hand, not fully straightening up, looking up at the two people, "I am..."

With a "dong" sound, the sound of a metal baseball bat hitting his head came out, and he was knocked to the side.

He staggered and fell to the ground because he had completely lost his balance due to the blow to his head.

Whether it was because of nervousness or some other reason, his hand was tightly clenching the baseball, supporting the chair surface with his hands and feet, trying to get up.

The young man wearing the baseball glove squatted down in front of him, looking at him.

Lukar, whose eyes were already a little stiff, also looked at the other party.

"Mr. Lance asked me to tell you that he didn't kill you, not because he didn't dare, but because he didn't want to."

"But you have dug your own grave, Lukar."

The more agitated Lukar became, the tighter he clenched the baseball in his hand. He wanted to say something, but for some reason, he couldn't say it.

It was as if a blow to the head had made him lose the ability to speak. His entire face turned red. Just as he felt he was about to "burst out," he suddenly heard a crisp "dong" sound in his ear again.

His gaze stayed on the face of the young man in front of him. Some blood had splattered on his face and hat.

Unable to support his body any longer, he collapsed completely in front of the bench.

But immediately after, there was a second blow.

And a third.

Some people in the distance saw what happened here and quickly left.

In the park, next to the bench, only a middle-aged man lying on the ground and two young men standing in front of him remained.

As the baseball bat fell again and again, Lukar's body convulsed violently after making a "splash" sound.

About thirty or forty seconds later, the young man wielding the baseball bat stood there gasping for breath, holding his waist, "That's enough."

The other young man began to search his body, taking out everything he had on him and putting it in a kraft paper bag.

He searched very carefully, even the lighter and cigarette case were put in.

After searching these things, he glanced at the baseball clenched in Lukar's hand and tugged it hard, but he couldn't pull it out!

His five fingers had pressed into the surface of the ball, and he tried to pry open his fingers, but he couldn't do it!

"Shit!" He was a little angry. This ball cost him fifteen cents!

His companion pushed him, "Forget it, it's just a baseball!"

The young man stood up, and the two looked around and quickly ran towards the depths of the park, leaving only a person lying in place with a face smashed beyond recognition.

Blood began to slowly erode from his face and the back of his head to the surroundings, like a flower slowly blooming!

At this time, Lukar's wife was humming a cheerful tune while cooking dinner. She bought a lot of ingredients and carefully prepared a sumptuous dinner.

She had a surprise for Lukar. She was pregnant!

She was going to be a mother, and Lukar was going to be a father. They would welcome a new life and form a complete family.

Thinking of this, she was very much looking forward to the expression on Lukar's face when he heard these good news.

He would definitely be surprised, then delighted, and finally hug her and spin her around in the air!

Thinking of this, her face was full of happy smiles. What could be happier than a happy family welcoming a new life?

Chief Charlie sat in his office smoking a cigarette, looking at the gradually appearing sunset outside the window with a worried look on his face. His mind was full of the terrible situation he had to face now and in the future.

The glow of the sunset also shone through the window, shining on Beno's face. He sat in his chair, looking in the direction of the city center. For some reason, he felt that today's sunset was particularly red and particularly bright.

The door of Lance's office suddenly opened, and Allen came out from inside. The three people sitting at the door suddenly stood up.

Beno threw the cigarette on the floor and crushed it with his foot, "Is it done?"

Allen nodded, with some smiles on his face, "It's over."

Beno asked, "Do we have new work?"

Allen smiled, "Yes, new work..."