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Heller at his desk had been smoking continuously, almost one cigarette after another.
He didn’t necessarily smoke every cigarette to the end, though perhaps it started that way.
But soon, for each cigarette, he would take at most three or four puffs, or four or five, then wait for the cigarette to slowly burn out between his fingers before extinguishing it in the ashtray.
If he didn’t have something in his hand, he would feel unsettled.
At this moment, cigarettes not only represented a… consumer good, but also a psychological placebo.
“There shouldn’t be any surprises, right?”
“With so many of us?”
He looked at the two other trusted subordinates in the office. One was sitting, one standing. The standing one affirmed Heller’s view, “There won’t be any surprises, boss.”
“Although I’m reluctant to admit it, I have to admit that our people are professional gang members. The bad things they’ve done are enough to make your scalp tingle.”
“And on the other side?”
“A small gang of former dockworkers who are just barely making a living. They are no match for us.”
“I don’t deny that some of them might be formidable, but boss, the prowess of a few individuals might be useful in small-scale conflicts, but in a large-scale gang war like this, it’s meaningless.”
“So we’re bound to win.”
These simple analytical words perfectly suited Heller’s mood at the moment. A faint smile appeared on his face, but then he felt it wasn’t good to smile before victory, so he straightened his face again.
The other trusted subordinate whispered, “Instead of considering whether they can win, perhaps we should consider the future issues with Red Heels.”
“Red Heels has established a channel between us and the Bay Area. It must be in our hands.”
“But you see, the other three also seem to want Red Heels. How to reasonably place it in our basket will be a problem.”
The purpose of the three high-ranking cadres rushing to duty tonight was under the slogan of “avenging Liam.”
After they eliminated Lance and the Lance Family, they could demand to take over some of Liam’s businesses from Heller.
As loyal subordinates of the gang, they could give up all of Liam’s businesses except Red Heels, and the problem would then shift to Heller.
When Liam first started the Red Heels club, no one really thought his business would succeed.
Golden Port City has over a million people, and at least tens of thousands are engaged in similar work—
Not everyone doing such work is a prostitute. The Federation government defines prostitution as “requiring sexual acts,” so many strip clubs offering oral acts on their menu are legal.
Because this isn’t a transaction, as long as it’s not a transaction, these women are not prostitutes; they are just… dancers, or beer girls.
Of course, some people do engage in transactions, but most are not in these legal and legitimate venues. But no matter what, whether legal or illegal, this area is saturated.
Business for the poor is difficult. It is said that even in the Xilin District, oral acts go for fifty cents, and performed by an elderly person with no teeth left, just to earn a living.
Business for the rich is also difficult. They need the best girls in every aspect, and these girls are reluctant to actively engage in such business.
Women in the Federation are still relatively conservative now.
No one expected Liam to find a unique new path, catering to the perverted desires of all rich people, and successfully gaining some traction in the Bay Area.
“Liam the Broker” is how people in the Bay Area knew Liam. He could find special girls who could endure any impulse and desire, as long as you paid enough!
Red Heels represented not only making money but also connections.
Heller, still pondering how to bring Red Heels into his possession, hadn’t come up with a good plan when the sound of a truck outside the window broke his thoughts.
He quickly got up and went to the window. Watching these people get out of the truck, he already had some ominous premonitions.
When the three high-ranking cadres returned to the office with grim faces, Heller knew the mission had failed.
He looked at these people, his eyes chilling, but hidden by his tinted sunglasses. They couldn’t see the ferocity and panic in his eyes at that moment.
“So, what exactly happened?”
One of the high-ranking cadres held a glass, taking a large gulp of alcohol. “They were well-prepared, and had very ample firearms and ammunition.”
“They hid in the room, blocking all the doors and windows. It was very difficult for us to attack,” he burped. “A dozen guns pointed at the door, whoever went in died!”
“Later we used incendiary bombs, trying to force them out, and in fact we succeeded, they fled into the back alley.”
“Their resistance was very strong, unlike anyone we’d seen before, a bit like… a big family. The most crucial thing is that they had plenty of ammunition.”
“We kept exchanging fire, but we couldn’t get in. The police department wouldn’t allow us to use bombs, so we could only fight head-on…”
Openly using bombs in the city… well, the big families in the Federation often do that, but there’s a prerequisite for doing so.
Either you have enough status to disregard these rules and do what you want.
Or you have to be crazy enough to trample all rules and those who make them.
The former might already be one of the rule-makers, while the latter would be besieged by everyone.
The Camille Gang was neither the former nor the latter; they had to abide by some unwritten rules.
Heller, hearing this, already roughly knew the outcome. The cadre shrugged, “We set their house on fire, and the fire started spreading. We couldn’t take them down for a long time, and the fire spread too quickly, so they had to intervene…”
Not intervening could lead to a larger fire, and in this period, predominantly of brick and wood structures, once a large fire spreads, there’s no chance of saving anything.
Moreover, the Triangle District is adjacent to the Bay Area, and they couldn’t allow a fire to pose any threat to the Bay Area. So, when the fire started to spread, it effectively ended the shootout prematurely.
“So, you actually didn’t kill Lance, nor did you kill many people?” Heller asked, forcing down his anger and suppressing his emotions.
Perhaps Lance… was dead?
The three high-ranking cadres, looking somewhat disheveled, looked at each other and shook their heads, “Don’t know.”
“Maybe he was unlucky…” someone said.
But soon he shut his mouth under Heller’s glare.
One of Heller’s trusted high-ranking cadres suddenly stood up. “Each of you said you wanted to avenge Liam, rushing to deal with the Lance Family. The boss gave you a chance because of your enthusiasm.”
“But is this how you repay the boss?”
“With you like this, how can the gang entrust Red Heels to your management?”
The three initially wanted to say something, but now they could only remain silent. The somewhat troublesome Red Heels thus returned to Heller’s hands. Perhaps it was a good thing after all?
But this still couldn’t suppress Heller’s rage!
“I’ve spent a hundred and forty to fifty thousand tonight, and I don’t even know how much severance pay I’ll have to give your subordinates, and you’re telling me we got nothing?”
“Now the whole damn Golden Port City is laughing at me!” He slammed his hand on the table, originally wanting to hit it a few more times, but his hand hurt too much, so he gave up.
There was not a single sound in the vast office. The three high-ranking cadres hung their heads, saying nothing, feeling wronged themselves.
Someone had provided Lance with so many weapons and bullets. In such a defensible situation, even if Heller went himself, it would have been useless.
Not to mention that in the battle in the back alley, both sides were constantly exchanging fire; whoever charged died.
If the fire hadn’t spread so quickly, they believed they would have eventually had a chance to wipe out the entire Lance Family.
But that’s the problem: if there wasn’t a fire, they couldn’t force Lance and his group out of the house.
But as long as incendiary bombs were used, there would inevitably be a countdown. It was a dead end!
Heller paced back and forth in anger. Money was spent, the job wasn’t done, and he had turned himself into a circus clown.
He could already foresee that tomorrow, people would find ways to call and mock him. What was more critical was that this failure meant his control over the Imperials in the Empire District was beginning to decline!
His chest ached a little. Every time he got angry, it would throb faintly, but examinations at the hospital showed nothing wrong. The doctor only prescribed a medicine supposedly for symptom relief.
He pulled open a drawer, staring at the cadres with cold eyes, took out a small medicine bottle, took out a pill, chewed it, and swallowed it.
“They won’t allow us to open fire again for a short time. First, secure our territory, then keep on finding out what these people are doing every day. On New Year’s Day, I want to wipe them all out!”
During the New Year, the local people in the Federation would be very relaxed, and there wouldn’t be too many police officers on duty at the police station. He decided to make it a fait accompli this time, and then consider other issues.
As long as he dealt with Lance and the Lance Family, he and his Camille Gang would still be an unshakable force in the Empire District.
Even if the city’s administrators were somewhat displeased, they would continue to tolerate him.
Because the existence of the Camille Gang made these Imperial immigrants in the Empire District exceptionally well-behaved, this was the art of management.
They never personally dealt with these immigrants, as it would cost them votes and damage their image. Instead, they would support hidden forces to do it for them.
Obedient gangs helped them deal with disobedient lower-class individuals, while maintaining social stability. When they needed political achievements or needed to appease the extremely dissatisfied lower-class, they would pick a group to imprison or kill, and all conflicts would be resolved.
This is why, even though the benefits ultimately went into the pockets of the powerful, people hated the henchmen who gained little benefit the most.
The art of governance, nothing more!
As long as Heller, this henchman, remained useful, the powerful, though they disliked him, would continue to use him because of his usefulness.
The cadres dared not say anything more, fearing to provoke Heller, and left one after another.
Looking at the tens of thousands of dollars left on the table, after everyone had left, Heller erupted in an angry and unwilling roar, so furious that he even smashed his sunglasses.
As a result, the next day, he wore a new pair of black sunglasses, which everyone found a little unusual.
At ten in the morning, in the Golden Port City Police Department’s news hall, the Assistant Chief, under the flashing lights, righteously recounted the thrilling gang shootout that occurred in the Triangle District last night—
“We found a total of forty-three bodies at the scene, and arrested seventeen surviving gang members, five of whom were seriously injured, and two died after being sent to the hospital and failing to be resuscitated.”
“Golden Port City’s attitude towards gangs has always been firm and resolute. When one case is found, it is eliminated without mercy.”
“We will continue to investigate whether there are more circumstances based on the clues already obtained. Any new information will be announced to everyone as soon as possible…”
His voice had not yet finished when countless people raised their hands to ask questions, and the constant flashing of lights put him in a very good mood.
After answering questions from several reporters and assuring them that the surviving gang members would be given the most severe punishments possible, the Assistant Chief strode away from the scene.
Chief Charlie only had a few more years left in his position, so the choice for his successor would be between him and the other Assistant Chief.
In fact, currently, there wasn’t much practical power difference between the Chief and the Assistant Chief of the Golden Port City Police Department.
The Assistant Chief was a position that assisted the Chief and presided over daily work.
Chief Charlie came in at ten in the morning, took a two-hour nap at noon, and left promptly at five in the afternoon. What could he do, and how much?
Almost all of the work was done by the two Assistant Chiefs.
But it was just a difference in position. Chief Charlie did nothing and took thirty thousand.
He ran around, taking on certain risks, and only took fifteen thousand.
Why not keep climbing higher?
Every time he stood out now, it meant he was one step closer to that position!
The news quickly fermented throughout the city. Although the media and newspapers shielded some key words and blurred some names and situations, people still found ways to inquire everywhere that last night’s shootout was between the Imperial Camille Gang and the recently established Lance Family, active in the Triangle Area and the Port District.
Now, even ordinary people couldn’t help but be curious about Lance and the Lance Family.
Close to noon, Lance finally woke from a deep sleep. He rubbed his head. The law firm was already open. Many people came today asking what had happened, but the main members weren’t there, so they were unclear about the situation, and some were feeling unsettled.
As for the financial consulting company, it had been completely reduced to ashes. The large amount of paper materials inside resulted in heavy losses for Lance.
Cash, some mortgage materials, the exact amount would only be known after an estimate.
After a good sleep, he felt a little more comfortable. After checking that the other injured people were fine, he went to the dining room.
The two girls sat there silently. Seeing Lance come down, they immediately stood up.
Lance waved for them to sit down, found a seat himself, and put some food on his plate.
The food was actually very tasty. Having shed the cap of poverty, they no longer ate only the cheapest food every day as they used to.
Beef, eggs, bacon, cheese, ham…
But eating these things at this moment felt like chewing wax.
“You’re up so early, didn’t you sleep?” Lance asked casually, like a typical morning, making small talk while eating breakfast.
Both girls shook their heads, “We slept for a while, and then we couldn’t sleep anymore.”
Last night’s shootout was the most dangerous and intense one Lance, and they, had experienced since coming here.
It was normal not to be able to sleep; everyone had walked the line between life and death.
“Did you eat?” Lance asked again.
“Yes.”
“No appetite.”
Two completely different answers. Lance put down his knife and fork, and sighed, “I will avenge them.”
The girls said nothing, just remained silent.
After waiting for about twenty minutes, everyone gradually woke up. After eating something, they all gathered in the living room, including the injured.
“I thought about it for a long time last night, and I realized I made a mistake about one thing.”
“I always thought that society had a bottom line.”
“Like we shouldn’t do things that clearly violate the law. I’m not saying we can’t do them, but we shouldn’t do them casually.”
“After all, those are things that violate the law, disrupt public order and morality, and cannot exist in the sunlight.”
“Just like… shadows will never be larger than light.”
“But now, I understand. Sometimes shadows can not only be as large as light, but they can even obscure it!”
“Beneath the surface of all civilized norms are the most primitive and savage rules of survival, and flexible bottom lines.”
“We lost, but not to Heller and his Camille Gang, nor to our lack of vigilance regarding these matters. We lost to this damned rule that we don’t understand.”
Everyone listened quietly to Lance’s words. Some might have been confused, but others understood.
Just like last night’s shootout, the police actually prevented them from leaving, and even allowed those people to come and fight them.
But if you say these police… are all bad, are targeting them, yet afterwards, when they left, they didn’t stop them!
They just let them go.
Who the hell would have thought of that?
For them, especially for Lance who had experienced a relatively civilized and orderly society, evil would melt away under “light.”
But how could he have imagined that these two natural enemies could actually merge, simply for the sake of more convenient rule?
Or perhaps, the control over rulers and order in another world made him overlook the primitiveness and savagery of this era, and its hypocrisy.
They didn’t understand it then, but now, more or less, they do, with Lance’s explanation.
“We might not be familiar with it yet, but I believe we will become familiar with it, and utilize it better.”
“Since everyone is waiting for our performance, then let’s show them our brilliant act!”
“Revenge, waiting even one more day makes my heart burn in agony, so let’s start now!”
(End of this chapter)