Empire of Shadows

After Lance left, the warehouse returned to silence. Under the lights, Chief Dale looked at Ponda with a complex expression, "I never thought it would be you, and I never thought it would be him."

Ponda shrugged, "Actually, I didn't think so myself, but it's not bad for us, is it?"

"At first, I didn't think about this clearly. I felt that siding with one party would make me lose something."

"But in reality, I didn't lose anything. On the contrary, I gained more than before."

"Wealth, reputation, fighting crime, and anything else."

Chief Dale raised his hand, stopping him from continuing, then smoothed his hair back, "You don't need to convince me. I've seen this kind of thing more than you have."

"After all, I'm from Jinzhou," he said, chuckling twice.

There were even more power-money transactions in Jinzhou. Capitalists always surrounded politicians in order to easily convert their wealth into power at any time.

Or to make it easier for those politicians to find a short-term tenant for the power in their hands.

He hadn't considered this before, partly because there was no one here with such deep strength, and secondly, the conflict between him and Lance seemed very deep to him.

Under his leadership, the Hazardous Materials Administration sealed many of Lance's bars and destroyed a lot of his liquor. The two sides had long lost any room for negotiation.

But he just didn't expect that everything had already been priced, only he was excluded from the deal.

He walked to the table and picked up the briefcase.

Having one hundred thousand dollars and having full control to do anything with one hundred thousand dollars are two different things.

"Need me to give you a ride?" Ponda followed Chief Dale.

Chief Dale took out his sunglasses from his pocket and put them on. He glanced at Ponda, "I drove myself here, and..." he reached out to block Ponda, "I'm the chief!"

He went straight out the door, put the briefcase in his trunk, and drove away.

Ponda stood at the door and smoked a cigarette before leaving with his men.

This was just a very, very small thing, for this city.

Some people hold the position of Director of the Hazardous Materials Administration in order to realize their ideal of returning to Jinzhou.

But some people's ideals are not so lofty. They just want not to be discriminated against, not to be humiliated.

Later that evening, Alberto contacted Lance, wanting to chat. Lance told him to come to his office.

Lance's office was decorated very luxuriously. Anyone who came for the first time would think this wasn't a place for a gang leader to discuss crime.

It was more like the office of a big capitalist, exuding the smell of money everywhere.

"Want something to drink?" Lance walked to the bar, "Whiskey?"

"Coffee?"

"Black tea?"

"Or iced lemonade?"

"Whiskey," Alberto rubbed his cheeks, watching Lance walk over with a tray.

On it was an ice bucket, a bottle of fine Golden Lion whiskey, and two glasses.

Lance put ice cubes in each glass, then picked up the bottle of whiskey with the slightly different packaging, "Try our new product."

The color of the liquor was very clear, not cloudy, and without impurities.

It was poured into the glass, making full contact with the ice cubes, and finally settled at the bottom of the glass.

He handed one of the glasses to Alberto, who picked up the glass, smelled it, and showed some surprise on his face.

He looked at Lance, who gestured for him to try it first.

He took a small sip and immediately had some chemical reactions. He looked at the liquor in the glass again, "Incredible, how did you do it?"

"This liquor is like it's been enchanted!"

Lance turned the bottle around so the label faced him. Alberto then noticed that the bottle had a "5 Years" label, which stood out from the entire label and was easily visible.

The gold-stamped "5" gave a very noble feeling. Alberto put down the bottle and took another sip, and there were indeed more changes.

"How did you do it?"

He knew that Lance produced his own liquor, and even the Pasreto family's liquor was now purchased directly from Lance.

Lance saved on storage and transportation costs, and with their relationship with Lance, the price was even cheaper than smuggling from Yalan.

It was precisely because they were using Lance's liquor that Alberto knew that their liquor had not been aged.

This kind of liquor... for ordinary alcoholic beverage users, there is not much difference.

Whether it's the aroma or the style, it tastes very "hard".

If drinking too much alcohol produces a dizzy feeling, then the dizziness produced by this unaged liquor is like someone hitting you on the head with a baseball bat.

And those that have been aged, the power will not be so strong. Although it will also produce the same dizziness, but that dizziness comes very gently, not making people hate it.

Flavor, aroma, style, these are all different.

Good liquor, liquor that wants to be sold at a higher price, must be aged.

Now the main way ordinary bars distinguish between mid-range and high-end is still alcohol content. More money is spent, the taste of the liquor is more easily accepted, and there is more alcohol.

Of course, in the process of manufacturing and storing itself, there is actually an aging process, but the time will not be too long. The first batch of liquor from the farm has already hit the market, and they have been stored for at most three months.

Three months can't even kill all the fire in the liquor, but these... are obviously without fire.

"The secret of chemistry," Lance did not explain specifically. In fact, they added some thickeners, then added aging essence, and he went to buy a large number of oak barrels used for aging by other wineries.

In the past, many wineries with aging had many oak barrels, and Lance has now bought many of these oak barrels.

They will be crushed by a crusher, and then participate in the short-term aging process in the form of spices.

These oak barrels themselves have a special aging aroma produced after long-term soaking. Now that they are crushed, they are mixed into the new liquor, which will release the original stored flavor.

With some chemical help, in just two or three months, a whiskey that tastes at least three to five years old is produced.

Such a bottle of liquor, selling for three or four hundred dollars on the market, no one will have any objections.

In bars, its price will be even more expensive, at least forty dollars for a two-ounce glass, a proper artifact for reaping wealth.

It sounds like the price is ridiculously unreasonable, but this is the Federation, and everything becomes reasonable again.

A worker's salary is forty dollars a month (slightly increased), but it's only enough for those rich people to drink a glass of liquor in a bar.

Unreasonable?

Very reasonable!

When the per capita salary was only three or five dollars, there were already super-rich people with assets of one billion here.

Those with assets of over one hundred million appeared in clusters.

People always use "magical" to describe those incredible worlds, and the Federation is magical.

Magical Federation.

Alberto put down the glass, "I don't quite understand, but it feels very impressive."

In his heart, he had already realized that Lance would earn more money because of these liquors.

If the previous liquors with fire, with a strong alcoholic smell rushing out as soon as the lid was opened, were to cater to those in the lower and middle class who were full of alcohol cravings.

Then these liquors are used to reap the alcohol dependents of the middle and upper classes.

The taste is not bad, plus some special flavors, it is difficult not to sell at a high price.

"I... I've been considering a problem recently."

Lance took out a cigarette, gave him one, and lit one himself.

After exhaling a puff of smoke, Alberto continued, "Dover has gained some support in Sumuli. He is becoming important. I am a little worried."

"If we let him continue to grow, it will eventually pose a threat to us that I can't imagine, so I have to deal with him."

Dover is a direct member of the Pasreto family, or so they all think, but in reality, he can only be considered an outer member.

But because of his relationship with Paul, he also has his own villa on the estate, so many people think he is a core member.

Such a person returned to Sumuli Island and expressed his respect to the four major families. No matter how he came back, the four major families need to do something for what he has done.

He has received strong support from the family that accepted him there. Alberto received news from his hometown that he already has more than a hundred people under his command.

They hope to establish a model, so that the overseas Sumuli people who have been subjected to cultural shocks can re-"return to their ancestors".

Decades ago, in order to avoid competition for resources, they drove these people out of Sumuli Island, and even had the local government issue various policies that were conducive to immigration.

But now they are eagerly hoping to gain the recognition of those who left Sumuli, and accept that they are the "ancestors".

So as long as they can support one, they will not be stingy with wealth and power to help.

"Dover and us are ultimately different. Paul didn't go back to anger them. They plan to have Dover replace us."

Lance's expression became a little more serious. "Can I help?"

Alberto said "Thank you," "No, you can't help. This is an internal problem for us."

"I must get rid of him before he fully develops."

Lance understood, "This is very dangerous."

Alberto shook his head, "Nothing is safe. Those experts said that even crossing the road has a probability of being hit by a drunk and flying into the sky, and eating can also choke you to death. So for me, it's fifty-fifty."

"The tragedy happened to me, or I successfully survived everything!"

He had already made up his mind, and Lance couldn't dissuade him any further, "Is there anything I can do for you?"

Alberto picked up his wine glass again and took a sip. He leaned back on the sofa, holding the wine glass in one hand and a cigarette in the other, "Help me take care of Francisco."

Lance agreed, "As long as he doesn't leave King's Port City, I guarantee his and the Pasreto family's safety."

"I believe you!" Alberto smiled, "That's all I came to you for."

Lance still wanted to make a final effort, "Actually, you can arrange for reliable gunmen to do this. There's no need to go back yourself."

Alberto shook his head, "You don't understand. I'm not comfortable leaving this kind of thing to others."

"I'm not saying I have to solve him personally, but this process must be under my control."

"Once we miss this opportunity, it will be difficult for us to have a second chance to strike. Next, it will be our turn to suffer their revenge."

"There will be all kinds of gunmen crossing the ocean to come here and shoot at us. As long as he doesn't die for a day, there will always be gunmen coming..."

"And we have no way to return to Sumuli Island to start a war, and not so many people will support us."

From this perspective, this is indeed a matter of survival and the future, and it is a problem that must be solved.

"Okay, I won't say anything. I wish you success."

Alberto raised his glass and clinked it with Lance, "If something happens to me..."

He hesitated for a moment, "Let Francisco temporarily give up everything he has now, lie dormant, and wait for a new opportunity."

"I've already talked to him. During this time, I need to trouble you to take care of him."

Lance clinked glasses with him, "Leave it to me."

He drank the wine in his glass in one gulp. Although the wine was ice-cold, he exhaled a hot and scorching breath, "Refreshing!"

Then he took a puff of cigarette, trying to use nicotine to suppress the ravages of alcohol. He blinked, "Bring me two bottles back later, I like this taste."

More than ten minutes later, two young men carried two boxes of wine into Alberto's trunk.

Fordis sat in the driver's seat looking at Lance with an innocent look on his face.

Lance stood by the driver's seat door, somewhat helplessly, "I tried to persuade him, but it was no use."

Fordis sighed. In fact, they had some internal disputes because of this matter.

The others on Alberto's side believed that he had done enough, and there was no reason or need to go back to Sumuli Island to assassinate Christopher.

There was absolutely no need for that!

That was an internal matter of the Pasreto family, and it had nothing to do with them, these outsiders.

But Alberto believed that he needed to take on this responsibility, because if it weren't for Paul, he might still be a farmer in the countryside of Sumuli Island.

Instead of living in a luxurious villa in the Magic Federation, enjoying at least a decade or two of the best life.

This was the last thing he did for Paul. As long as Dover was resolved, he would have paid back everything he owed Paul, and they could live their own lives.

This operation was very dangerous, and some people didn't want to go, so they had a quarrel with Alberto.

In the end, their group also split apart.

Some people had already left. They were unwilling to accompany Alberto to his death.

But some people stayed. These people had also received Alberto's help and support, and they also wanted to repay his kindness.

But in any case, this was always sad.

Those good friends who were like family left in anger...

Lance patted his arm, "Are you going too?"

Fordis nodded.

At this time, Alberto, who had finished tidying up the trunk, walked over, "What are you talking about?"

Lance shook his head, "Everything about the weather."

Alberto laughed twice. He didn't expose it. He walked to Lance's side and hugged him, "See you later."

Lance patted him hard on the back, "Waiting for your good news."

After watching Alberto leave, Lance was somewhat lost, but this feeling didn't last long.

The entire family was still rising rapidly, upwards. He could sigh and lament, but he wouldn't stop here.

At the same time, he also had a realization that once he left, Alberto would most likely not come back.

Sumuli Island was controlled by the four major families, which was their inherited territory.

As long as they were willing, no one could leave that island.

If everything was as he said, and Dover became a typical example set up by the four major families, a benchmark, then his death would completely anger the four major families.

Alberto would definitely be trapped on that island.

But this was his determination, a great and foolish man.

Soon his attention was focused on the mayoral election. Although this was just a formality, no one knew whether there would be another spoiler.

Councilor Williams' schedule was very full. Every day, he was either meeting with workers' representatives here or giving public speeches there.

The Liberal Party and the Socialist Party jointly arranged three mayoral candidates. The other two were just running to make up the numbers, to prove that the federal election system was fair and just, and that there was no political monopoly.

Some people say that the people of so-and-so are the best people. Lance firmly doesn't believe it, because the people of the Federation are the best people.

Even if their government told them that the stinky pile on the ground was not shit, but soybean paste, they would stick their fingers in it and put it in their mouths, shouting, "The soybean paste tastes authentic."

The whole city has undergone some changes because of the election, good and bad.

On the morning of the fourth Saturday in August, Councilor Williams called Lance, "I need your help with something."

"What's the matter?" Lance was reading the newspaper. The newspaper talked about the budget committee approving a series of new budget expenditures to deal with possible war expenditures.

This has significantly increased the entire federal industrial index, which is not easy, and almost all stocks are rising along with it.

People are always happily exchanging opinions, talking about how many billions of funds will enter society through what channels, as if this money can make everyone earn!

"Those refugees, they have gathered in the place where I am going to speak this afternoon."

Lance said with a smile, "Is it to listen to your truth?"

Councilor Williams laughed, "I hope so."

Then his meaning is "no".