Empire of Shadows

It was past ten o'clock at night, and the people who had gone out were gradually returning, some of them muttering curses.

They had gone to the casino.

Coming to King's Harbor, it's hard not to visit the King's Harbor Casino. In federal travel magazines, the King's Harbor Casino has become a must-see attraction.

Even if you don't gamble, you should still go in and have some fun, and experience one of the largest casinos on the East Coast.

Experience the extravagant and decadent life!

Just imagine, from the moment you enter the lobby, you are surrounded by young and beautiful girls and handsome boys, dressed in clothes specially tailored for them by the company, maximizing their physical advantages.

Whether it's male or female escorts, they can provide every guest who comes here with the greatest and most extreme enjoyment!

Everywhere you look, you see players squandering money. The concept of wealth here is really just like those books say, just meaningless numbers.

But everyone's mind is frantically, madly focused on these numbers!

Every day, many wealth miracles are staged here, such as the saying that "twenty dollars in, two thousand dollars out" and similar stories are abundant locally, all pointing to this huge casino.

This is a land of miracles, but also a land of sadness. Every day, many people lose their last penny here, and even borrow high-interest loans, only to lose that money as well.

But no matter what, if you come to King's Harbor, you should come and take a look around.

So, these bikers and gangsters from the north, those who were interested in gambling, also went to the King's Harbor Casino, where they felt the blood rushing and boiling in their veins!

From time to time, they could hear the joyful and frantic laughter of a player, or the questioning of someone unwilling to accept the outcome.

Everyone's mind changes constantly with the gambling tools in the dealer's hand.

In just one afternoon and evening, this group basically lost everything.

"Fuck, that dealer definitely rigged the poker, he kept winning!" someone couldn't help but complain, he had been complaining all the way!

The people around him were also complaining, but about something else, "Why don't we have Lance Poker over there?"

"Is this a new game they just launched?"

"It's so much fun, much more interesting than those other poker games."

"Did you see the hand in seat number four?"

"He caught a single card, but scared away the biggest pair, it's so funny!"

"Luck is no longer the key to determining the outcome, there is also the psychological contest of the game, this game should be popularized quickly!"

Some of them also played Lance Poker, and they all liked this way of playing very much.

The battle of wits made them feel like they weren't fools, and if someone could scare away someone else's big hand with some intimidation and other means, then they would be even happier!

They discussed everything in the casino, and even forgot that they hadn't had dinner yet.

The intense mental stimulation made them feel no hunger at all, they were now only thinking about those exciting game competitions.

The group returned to the hotel, which was very cheap, costing only twenty dollars for a bed. Each room had eight beds, because this was an industrial area.

The industrial area has more ordinary people who work here or are looking for work than rich people.

At the same time, the traffic here is not small, and it is very mixed.

There are locals, illegal immigrants, and legal immigrants, and now there are refugees.

Staying here will not attract so much attention, no one cares why these people who look difficult to mess with appear here.

After they all went inside, a stalker came out of the car, walked to the phone booth, and dialed a number.

About a dozen minutes later, a dozen cars arrived here.

It was late at night, and Lance also came over to take a look, of course, he would stay on the periphery, instead of running inside.

As they surrounded the hotel, one of them walked to the yard next door and found the bikers' motorcycles.

Although these motorcycles had keys, the keys at this time could only guard against gentlemen, not villains.

The locksmith just took two special tools and poked around in the keyhole, and soon one of the motorcycles was pried open.

"Stay away," a newly appointed captain instructed. After watching the locksmith leave a distance, he stepped on the starter hard and added some throttle at the same time.

In the rumbling and sputtering sound of the motorcycle engine, it was started.

The "tongtongtong" sound from the jet pipe spread far in the quiet night. The hotel was a three-story building, and several rooms on the second floor that had already turned off the lights suddenly lit up, and faint curses could be heard.

Then a few windows were pushed open, and the black shadow riding the motorcycle twisted the throttle, and the motorcycle drove out of the parking lot.

"Fuck, someone is stealing our car!"

Several people ran downstairs with things in their hands, and Jordan also woke up from a hazy sleep.

He rubbed his eyes and walked to the window to take a look outside. It was dark outside and he couldn't see anything, but he could vaguely hear some sounds.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

One of his men smiled and said, "A motorcycle has been stolen, I don't know whose it is."

The cars they drove over were all gang property, but those motorcycles were personal property.

So these people who came by motorcycle were so angry and worried, and Jordan couldn't help but smile.

Before coming, he said, don't fucking ride a motorcycle so far.

But these people just wouldn't listen, they just wanted to have a ride that they could take whenever they wanted!

It took so much time along the way, also because of these sons of bitches, either the tires blew out, or they ran out of gas on the way, and they had to drive to the gas station to get the gas back for them.

Or they couldn't stand being blown by the wind and had to slow down, otherwise they would have arrived in King's Harbor long ago.

"Serves them right!" Jordan said, and went back to his bunk and lay down again.

This kind of thing would only happen in King's Harbor. In northern cities, many people know the Death Angels, and those motorcycles have the Death Angels logo on them.

Any thief, as long as they don't have a problem with their brain, would not steal the property of the Death Angels casually.

Not to mention that no one would accept these motorcycles, unless they didn't plan to live anymore.

These vicious and violent gang groups often treat those who "are not afraid" of them very extremely, it seems that only in this way can everyone be afraid of them.

But here, they don't have such a big reputation, and not even a few people know them.

"Holy shit, my car was stolen, he hasn't gone far, brothers, catch up!"

The riders immediately rode their motorcycles towards the place where the engine sound came from in the distance, and the lights in the rooms on the second floor were turned off again.

They didn't feel any sense of crisis at all, they just felt... this was a small episode.

After those people riding motorcycles went far away, the people surrounding the hotel began to approach the hotel. Hiram didn't rush to the front line either, although he wanted to, but he also knew that he was no longer suitable for rushing to the front line.

As the scale of the Lance family grows larger and larger, everyone's status, power, and influence are rising.

What they represent is not only themselves, but also those "small groups" around them.

For example, these low-level gang members who came for this operation are all on good terms with him and his group.

When there is a mission, Hiram will take the initiative to find them, and they are also willing to work with Hiram and them.

The scale of the family is constantly expanding, and at the same time as the expansion, it seems that walls after walls are appearing, separating some people from others.

In the beginning, when there were only Lance, Elvin, and Ethan, there were only twenty people in total.

Everyone was brothers, they were all familiar with each other, and they all knew each other very well.

But now, they can't recognize everyone, and they haven't even heard of many gang members.

The formation of small groups is also an inevitable thing in the family's expansion.

In order to ensure the future of these people who are working hard with him, Hiram also began to restrain his impulses.

This group of people that he values are all ruthless characters.

Except for those guarding outside, the others took weapons and quietly entered the hotel.

The hotel owner who was dozing off saw figures shaking, and he was just about to perk up and ask if they needed accommodation or had any other needs when suddenly he had a jolt, and all the sleepiness disappeared!

Those people's indifferent eyes looked at him as if they were looking at a dead person. One of the young men made a gesture of silence, accompanied by a "shh" sound.

The boss immediately covered his mouth, indicating that he would not make a sound.

He noticed that those people had red armbands on their sleeves, and his fear dissipated a lot.

He had never heard of people from Lance hurting innocent people, unless they provoked them first.

The boss didn't think he would offend the Lance family, so tonight, everything had nothing to do with him.

He let go of his hand and whispered, "Do you need me to cooperate?"

The young man smiled and shook his head, "Just sit there."

As they spoke, they went upstairs. When those people turned on the lights just now, they had already remembered those rooms. They came to the corridor, and all around were faint snoring sounds.

But it wasn't entirely silent. If you listened carefully, you could still hear some people moaning softly.

Some refugee women who couldn't find work nearby worked here, each time only requiring a dollar or even just a few dimes. This price was very cheap even in the port district.

For the workers who engaged in heavy physical labor every day, they were actually used to the physical fatigue, but the main problem was the psychological fatigue.

They couldn't see the future, and everything was shrouded in the black smoke emitted from the chimneys. There was not a single glimmer of light in their lives.

They needed to vent, needed some stimulation.

And these women in need of help in the cheap hotels became their best choice.

They helped others, received moral rewards, and at the same time solved their psychological pressure through venting. Everyone got what they wanted—

The hotel owner rented out a single room, the refugee women received a fortune that could ensure that she and her family were fed, and the workers alleviated their inner anxiety.

No one suffered losses here, everyone got what they wanted, and society became stable as a result. But the federal government thought this was wrong and illegal.

But those old geezers used the power in their hands to do similar things, and it became romance. Sometimes it's really hard to understand this world, which side is the real one.

The young man's hand gripped the doorknob. He looked at his companions outside the other two doors and gestured with his hand.

Three…

Two…

One!

The three of them almost simultaneously twisted open the doors of the rooms (because someone had gone out, they hadn't locked the doors) and turned on the lights in the rooms at the same time.

The people lying in the rooms were once again illuminated by the dazzling light. Some turned their heads and lay with their backs to the light, cursing, while others directly covered their eyes with their arms.

But there were also people who sat up in a rage.

"Can't you fucking…", he suddenly stopped talking, because in front of him wasn't his companion, but a pistol.

The dark muzzle of the gun was pointed directly at his head.

At this moment, his heart was surging, but also calm. He didn't even make the move to find his own gun, just looked at the person pointing the gun at him.

He wanted to ask if he could have a cigarette before he died, but the next second, a bullet blew away half of his face, and he fell onto the bed with a thud.

The sound of gunfire could travel far at night.

The first gunshot was like a signal. Soon, intense gunfire rang out, but only for a while, lasting less than ten seconds.

Then everything returned to silence.

Everyone in the entire hotel was awakened, but no one dared to make a sound.

In the last few rooms in the corridor, those who were just moaning softly also closed their mouths at this moment.

The young man held the pistol in his hand and looked around. His gaze fell on a slightly trembling arm.

He walked to the bed with the gun. The person on the bed had been shot twice in the chest, his eyes were tightly closed, and he was motionless. There was not even any rise and fall in his chest, as if he were really dead.

But strangely, his hand was still trembling slightly, uncontrollably trembling.

He looked at that person, just enough that he blocked the light from shining on the face of this 'corpse', just looking like that.

Time is sometimes fast, but sometimes it is very slow, just like at this moment.

After a stalemate of about ten seconds, the 'corpse' finally couldn't withstand the enormous pressure and suddenly opened his eyes, but what greeted him was another bullet.

The young man inspected again before putting the pistol away.

Soon someone came up with body bags to load the corpses. These corpses would be disposed of overnight and would not become a source of panic for the citizens.

Now Lance attaches great importance to the citizens' "experience".

This kind of work certainly didn't require the young man to do it himself. He walked downstairs, lit a cigarette, glanced at the boss, and walked over.

"I've damaged your bed and wall panels, and I may also have to trouble you to dispose of the bedding and clean up the blood."

The young man held a cigarette in his mouth, squinting his eyes slightly, tilting his head slightly to keep the cigarette butt pointing upwards, so as not to let the cigarette smoke from the cigarette butt sting his eyes.

It is very uncomfortable to have your eyes stung by cigarette smoke, it is spicy and very uncomfortable.

He took out a stack of banknotes from his pocket, all five-dollar bills. He counted out ten of them and put them on the table, "Including their accommodation fees."

The boss wasn't afraid and was still declining, "That's too much, you don't need that much."

The young man reached out and took the cigarette from his mouth, revealing a mouthful of big white teeth, "You better take it."

The boss's expression froze, but looking at the smile on the other person's face that was not a smile, he sighed, "Okay…", he put the money away, and was silent for two seconds, "Thank you."

The young man raised his hand and waved, walking towards the outside.

He walked to a car parked diagonally across the road, flicked away the cigarette he had only smoked halfway, then bent down and looked into the back seat of the car, "Boss, it's done."

"Anyone injured?" Lance asked.

The young man shook his head, "No, they didn't even have time to react."

Lance nodded slightly, "Well done."

The young man was very modest, "It is our honor to serve you!"

Lance laughed, "Do things well, everyone has a chance!"

At the same time, the several motorcycles that had chased out finally blocked the car thief in a remote open space. The car thief also stopped the car and just stood there.

"Fack, keep running!"

The guy whose car was stolen stepped down from the back seat of his companion's motorcycle and casually pulled out the dagger from his waist, preparing to give the car thief a lesson as soon as he went up.

But the next second, a lot of headlights suddenly turned on, making him unable to help but squint his eyes. The people behind him also squinted their eyes, their eyes unable to adapt to the strong light so quickly.

But they didn't have a chance to adapt either.

A few seconds later, gunfire rang out.

The car thief just stood there, silently watching those people being shot into sieves.

After the gunfire stopped, he walked to the corpse of the person who had walked towards him, bent down and picked up the dagger in his hand, with an expression on his face that said "I really like this thing".

Then he also pulled down the scabbard and put it in his hand.

He walked to the side of the road and dialed the number of another phone booth.

In the dark night, the opposite of the hotel where the fierce gunfire had just erupted was so quiet that there was not a single sound.

The phone booth on the side of the road suddenly rang, making some people who were already afraid feel a sense of inexplicable horror.

The phone was quickly picked up, and then quickly hung up. The person who answered the phone returned to Lance's car and bent down, "Boss, those riders have been dealt with."

Lance nodded slightly again. He then looked at the driver in the front seat, "Let's go back."

The vehicle started slowly, and several other cars not far away also started, forming a convoy with Lance's car, and disappeared into the night of Goldport City…