Empire of Shadows

Jack was also paying close attention to some recent changes within Goldport City. He had also heard some rumors, mainly from people connected to smuggling groups.

It was like… some people would complain to a stranger about work-related issues.

They didn't think a stranger would cause any problems for their work or life because of their complaints.

It's like chatting with a passerby while waiting for a bus. You tell them a lot of bad things about your boss, without worrying that they'll tell your boss.

It's the same at customs. Those who come to offer bribes sometimes complain to the customs officers, complaining that the Lance family's methods are a bit overbearing and inappropriate.

They would then tell these things to Jack.

The fact that Jack and Lance were connected was known to at least a few people, and his promotion to customs officer wasn't arranged by Lance. Arthur came forward and helped him with the promotion.

Many people thought Jack was a member of the Williams family, not knowing that his relationship with Lance was actually closer.

So they would also tell this customs officer with a deep background about the complaints of the smuggling groups, and he learned about some recent changes.

"I heard you're doing big things recently!" Jack joked.

Lance laughed twice, not being modest at all. "Yes, big things."

"I'm integrating the entire Goldport City's alcoholic beverage distribution channels. Besides what we produce ourselves, other imported alcohol must also benefit me."

"Otherwise, I won't let them in."

Although Jack knew this in his heart, he still felt shocked when Lance said it so bluntly!

You know that the wealthy have a lot of money, and you know that a million dollars is like a dollar in your pocket to them, but that's just a concept.

Only when you really see them not treating money as money will you be shocked by their wealth and develop some negative emotions.

Jack didn't have any negative emotions. The stronger Lance was, the smoother the Lawrence family's rise would be, and their relatives could also benefit more.

For example, the Lawrence Farm has now become the largest winery in the surrounding area, and other farms will also sell their crops to them.

In the past, buying crops was just to take care of the surrounding farmers, after all, everyone was friends. Only the Lawrence family had relatively complete sales channels of their own.

But now, it's no longer about taking care of them, but a money-making business.

A ton of crops turned into wine yields a profit of more than ten times. The three old men of the Lawrence family are now full of energy every day. They have also hired some new cowboys and formed a "Musketeer Team."

"Musketeer Team" was the old term for private armed forces. Their job is to ride horses and patrol near the winery every day, preventing any suspicious people from entering the winery.

If someone doesn't heed the warnings, as large farm owners, landlords, plantation owners, and former slave owners, they have the right to kill any intruders on their private land.

And it's not even illegal, because at their level, they are considered a semi-privileged class.

The Socialist Party and the Liberal Party value their influence very much and will favor them on various issues.

Lance's business benefits the entire Lawrence family. Everyone can get more dividends from the farm, and even if they don't get money from other sources, they can live very well.

If Lance can completely monopolize the Goldport City's liquor and beverage business…

Jack couldn't imagine what that scene would be like!

"How much alcohol… does Goldport City sell each year?" he asked, still curious to know how much money Lance was making from this.

Lance shook his head. "There are no reliable figures to support it, but we will be collecting statistics."

"There are now more than two hundred liquor sales outlets in the city, and our projected sales are about 1.5 million to 2 million per day."

Jack, who was drinking coffee, suddenly turned his head and coughed. Some coffee even spurted out of his nostrils. After coughing several times, he stared at Lance with wide eyes. "What the f*ck, how much did you say?"

"1.5 million to 2 million. This is actually a conservative figure, because the navy will be coming in soon, and the population here will continue to grow, and the demand for alcohol will also increase."

In fact, besides these sales businesses, there is also the matter of supplying sailors.

When navigation technology was not very advanced, it was normal for a ship to drift at sea for several months.

The lack of entertainment and ways to pass the time could be fatal to the sailors.

So cigarettes and alcohol became their most important supplies after landing.

It's just that it's not very cost-effective to supply alcohol in Goldport City. Now, many sea ships will temporarily stay in Yalan Bay for a day or half a day, allowing those alcohol vendors to deliver the alcohol to the ships.

Their prices are cheaper, much cheaper than supplying in Goldport City.

But even so, ordinary sales alone can generate millions in sales per day, which is unimaginable to Jack!

More than a million a day, then what about a year?

Hundreds of millions in sales?

He looked at Lance as if he were looking at a monster. He finally knew why Goldport City had been in a state of intense infighting for most of the past two years.

Because of profit!

He swallowed. "What… is your profit margin approximately?"

Lance said casually, "Purely in terms of alcohol, because we need the market and need to give some of the profits to those operators, the net profit is about 20 percent."

Jack graduated from a prestigious university, and his math was okay. After a simple calculation, he came to a conclusion that the daily net profit was about 300,000 to 400,000.

He suddenly didn't want to talk to Lance anymore. This was too depressing.

Looking at the numbness and bewilderment on his face, Lance couldn't help but laugh. "Actually, we also have bar contracting fees. I roughly calculated that if you include this part of the income, it's 50 percent."

He earns 50 yuan for every 100 yuan, the small gangs earn 20 to 30, and the rest is cost. This is reasonable.

From Lance's point of view, he doesn't need to be responsible for any specific operations and can obtain huge profits from the city's alcohol sales. There is almost no cost, and the income increases dramatically.

For small gangs, they don't have to worry about Lance competing with them. With a more stable market and operating environment, they only need to carefully manage their own bars to ensure profits.

Although Lance takes the lion's share, it is stable.

Like those small gangs of more than a dozen people, as long as they grit their teeth, they can also contract a bar and make a profit from the bar every month, allowing their gangs to survive.

And there is not a complete lack of competition between gangs.

Lance allows them to contract more bars, which is the focus of competition, but everything will be within the scope set by Lance.

Whoever breaks the rules, Lance will punish them. The underworld of Goldport City will enter a super stable stage.

Vicious violent crime will be reduced on a large scale, and people's happiness index will increase. It is not an exaggeration to say that "Mr. Lance is like a saint."

Somewhat emotional, if he could barely understand some of Lance's affairs before, now, he doesn't understand at all.

"In any case, if you need our help, just ask. You are also part of the family!"

The two clinked glasses, although it was coffee, the intention was there.

In the next few days, there were some minor disturbances in the city. Lance needed to deal with the bosses of those gangs who were unwilling to cooperate with him.

Some had already taken the initiative to leave Goldport City, but there were still some who had neither left here nor remained silent about Lance's regulations, then their doing so was clearly disrespecting Lance.

Even if it was Bandi, if he didn't give Lance face, Lance would kill him, let alone these small gangs!

Lance's attitude was very tough, which made the leaders of these small gangs somewhat uncomfortable.

"I've been in Goldport City longer than that Lance guy. If he doesn't respect us, we should unite and show him some color…"

In the back seat of the car, a middle-aged man who looked to be in his forties complained to the people around him.

"I've been operating here for twenty years. Whether it's the Five Families or any other gang, they all respect me very much."

"No one has ever made things difficult for me, except for this Lance!"

"He actually wants me to close my bar and then pay him that contracting fee before I can open a bar."

"Sh*t, he's even more domineering than the Five Families!"

The middle-aged man held a cigar in his hand. With the intense emotional fluctuations when he spoke, he kept waving the cigar in his hand, causing it to emit some sparks.

The person sitting next to him was another gang leader, who was nodding in agreement at this time. "He's too unreasonable."

"He's an outsider and a novice. Someone needs to teach him to respect us."

"I don't like him. I've never liked him. He doesn't even let us collect protection fees or extort rich people. F*ck, he doesn't let us do this, he doesn't let us do that. Why doesn't he become the chief of police?"

"The governor doesn't have as much control over things as he does."

"We're gangsters, not f*cking philanthropists!"

Lance demanded a complete ban on the collection of protection fees. Everyone could barely agree to this, provided that they could continue to open bars.

After all, the few thousand dollars in protection fees collected from the stores might just be the bar's profits for three to five days. But now that Lance isn't letting them do anything, they're bound to have grievances.

"We need to unite more people and make him understand that Goldenport City isn't necessarily his to control. Even if it comes to a showdown, we won't be afraid of him!"

When the two old guys got emotional, they couldn't wait to walk up to Lance and slap him twice, to make him understand the respect a junior should have for his seniors.

They then began to reminisce about their past glorious achievements, killing so-and-so, or forcing so-and-so to admit defeat, as if they were still their former selves.

Just as they were in high spirits, the car suddenly swerved violently, followed by the sound of a collision. Both men widened their eyes as they watched a car on the flank crash into their vehicle.

Before the driver could even get angry, two gun barrels appeared from the opposite car window. The dormant submachine guns were instantly activated, and bullets poured out.

Seconds later, it accelerated again and disappeared into the traffic.

All that was left was the riddled car window and the two middle-aged and elderly men lying in a pool of blood in the back seat.

Several streets away, a well-dressed fellow suddenly looked in the direction of the gunfire.

His eyes held a hint of doubt and gravity. After waiting for a while and hearing no more gunshots, he turned around and leaned against the window, looking at the people in the room.

"I think we can completely operate discreetly, turning the bar into an underground operation. I heard that so-and-so is planning to open a bar in the sewers."

The people in the room laughed. Opening a bar in the sewers was indeed a good choice, at least the sewers were more concealed.

As they were talking, someone suddenly knocked on the door, and some people's hands were already on their weapons.

The city hadn't been very peaceful lately, and no one knew when Lance would come looking for them.

It was one of their own men who knocked on the door, which relieved them all.

The man was holding a box. "The mailman said you have to open it yourself. I don't know what it is."

The leader took the box and shook it. It wasn't very heavy, and there seemed to be something inside that rattled when it was shaken.

He placed the box on the table and glanced at the label. There was no clear return address, but he still opened it.

"This lid is a little hard to open..." As he forcefully lifted the lid, he looked at the contents and said, "Fuck."

Two or three seconds later, pedestrians on the street were startled by a violent explosion and scattered in screams. Debris from the explosion was visible everywhere.

Although there was some minor turmoil in the city, the citizens weren't too dissatisfied, because one by one, the gangs were being uprooted, and a more stable life was on the way.

In early September, Lance once again convened a meeting of all the gangs in Goldenport City. This time, all the gangs who still planned to make a living in Goldenport City came.

Undeniably, there were definitely some who didn't come, but as long as they followed the rules, Lance didn't plan to deal with them.

No extorting ordinary people, no selling drugs.

He wasn't a businessman, he was a gang leader. This was a world where the strong preyed on the weak. He didn't need to abide by other people's rules; others needed to abide by his.

At two o'clock in the afternoon, the auditorium of the Goldenport Hotel was already filled with these gang leaders from Goldenport City. Some even brought one or two people with them.

The core content of today's meeting was "bidding."

At 2:15, Lance arrived at the venue and began to introduce the bidding method and content for today.

"On the map behind me, each area has a number, and we've provided our initial predictions for how much revenue it can generate."

"For some, we have actual operating data; for others, we've derived it from the operating data of surrounding areas. There may be deviations from the actual operating results, but they won't be too large."

"For example, Bar No. 110. This is our own operating data. Monthly sales are approximately between 150,000 and 180,000."

"Operating costs are around 20,000 to 30,000, and the profit is at least over 120,000..."

There was already some discussion in the venue. Many small gangs' bars only earned 30,000 to 50,000 a month, but this Bar No. 110 could earn 120,000 a month, which was several times their past income.

Some people's eyes immediately focused on it.

Lance waited for them to discuss it for a while before continuing, "We all know its profit is over 120,000, so if I want to get this bar, what should I do?"

He picked up a card, faced everyone, and said as he filled it out, "In this position, I fill in the bar number I want to bid for, and then I fill in the contract price I think I can afford."

"For example, if my expected profit for this bar is 60,000, and I plan to earn 60,000 from here, then in this position, I fill in 60,000."

"Then put it in this envelope and drop it into this mailbox."

"This isn't about the profit in your mind, but how much money you're willing to pay for this bar."

"If you can manage it better, maybe it can bring you more profit, 70,000, 80,000, or even 100,000 or 200,000 are possible."

"But it's also possible that because you don't manage it well enough, the profits don't meet your demands."

"You want 110, he wants it, and I want it too."

"Then, in the end, we will give the operating rights to the person who bids the highest for the number."

"The bidding period for this time is one year. This is to give you a rough idea and a familiarization process with all these rules."

"After one year, my bidding periods will be every two years."

Lance put down the things in his hand. "If anyone fails to win the bid, then unfortunately, you won't have a share in the bar business this year."

"You can consider doing other things to get through this year, or go to surrounding cities to develop."

"But whether you are willing to stay in Goldenport City or not, you must abide by my rules."

He said emphatically, then looked around the entire auditorium, raised his wrist, and glanced at his watch, "You have half an hour."

"By the way, if anyone thinks they don't have enough strength, they can bid jointly with others."

"Except for the red numbers, which are obtained through auctions, all others can participate in the bidding."

"You have one hour. I hope you make a careful decision."

As he spoke, he left the stage, and the scene suddenly became lively. People were playing this for the first time and didn't really understand it, but it didn't prevent them from understanding one thing: don't let others know your 'bottom line'!