Advanced chapter at patreon.com/caleredhair. its already in chapter 350+
Lance’s attention shifted from the homeless man. “I talked with Bruce, we must force them to make the first move.” He paused, then added, “Preparations for war remain unchanged. If we are prepared and they are not, our chances of winning are high, but we must also be ready for the possibility that they might strike first.”
“Once they are desperate, they might directly make a move.” Lance instructed Elvin to find several bar locations. They were not far from the Red Dog Gang’s bar, only a block or two away.
Logically, competing with the Red Dog Gang’s bar for customers was not a simple matter. Drunkards are not only obsessed with alcohol but also with the drinking atmosphere. Once they become accustomed to a particular bar’s environment, it’s difficult to make them switch locations.
The Red Dog Gang’s bars had been operating for a long time, with steadily increasing clientele, making competition somewhat challenging. Furthermore, with the two bars so close, direct competition was inevitable. However, Lance was confident in their significant advantage: they had cheaper liquor.
Perhaps a five-cent reduction on a single drink would only make people waver, but a ten-cent reduction would definitely draw them in! Compared to a familiar environment and atmosphere, getting two drinks for the price of one was clearly more important. What mattered most to a drunkard?
Of course, it was how much alcohol they could get into their veins! The car drove back. That night, Lance and Elvin went to meet a gunsmith.
Alberto had previously discussed this with Lance. If they wanted to expand their operations to be more organized and systematic, it would be best for them to cultivate their own “talents.” Professions such as gunsmiths, mechanics, and auto repair workers might seem unrelated to gangs or families, yet they were, in fact, core talents for a gang’s development.
The role of a gunsmith needs no extensive discussion; it’s like the bearded man on Alberto’s side. He maintains and adjusts firearms, and can even re-rifle barrels. Although frequent re-rifling can reduce accuracy, who the hell cares about that?
With several, even dozens, of guns, and even submachine guns firing together, aimed directly at their faces, it would be impossible to miss! However, the gunsmith effectively provided a permanent solution to the threat of ballistics.
Moreover, mechanics and auto repair workers could assist a gang in modifying vehicles, machinery, and creating traps, bombs, or even other devices. This was especially true for more sensitive items; although available externally, it was difficult to tell if the sellers were informants.
Furthermore, you couldn’t be sure they wouldn’t betray your information for more money. Don’t imagine these underworld figures to be overly virtuous. While there were indeed individuals akin to benevolent thieves, most would betray trust for a small profit.
They could sell dangerous goods to you for money, and naturally, they could also sell you as a commodity to others for money. The gunsmith they met was a refugee who had fled from the Empire. After arriving, he couldn’t find suitable work and now made a living by helping people with sheet metal work.
Sheet metal work was actually a skilled trade, even if the hammering and banging made it seem like it required no technical expertise. However, if you truly asked someone without the skills to try, they wouldn’t be able to do anything well. Many people knew Lance was looking for a gunsmith, or at least someone who understood gun principles and could independently modify firearms.
As for maintenance, that wasn’t particularly important. For a dynamic social organization like theirs, the shelf life of a firearm was merely from the moment they acquired it to its use in combat, unless someone performed subsequent upkeep. Otherwise, it could only be sold at a discount to the bearded man, or put in a bag and thrown to the bottom of Angel Lake.
Lance did not have many connections in other regions or in the black market for firearms. Unlike some large gangs, whose firearms, once used, could be sold in another city’s black market within a day. He did not know such people, nor did he have such channels; even selling everything at a discount to the bearded man would result in a significant loss.
The gunsmith’s skill level presented no issues; at least, Lance found none. He effortlessly disassembled the MagRay 1212 semi-automatic pistol Lance handed him. Each part was laid out on the table, and he pointed out that several components were heavily worn and clearly from a different gun.
It was possible they were reassembled from parts, or replaced after damage, receiving an overall barely passable evaluation. Observing his skilled movements, Lance felt a sense of anticipation regarding him. Of course, whether he was truly capable still required verification by the bearded man.
Upon returning home, many had already come back. They were either sitting or standing in the living room; they would not rest until Lance returned. Only when they saw Lance back did they seem to feel a weight lifted from their hearts.
Two girls took Lance’s coat and hat, and someone handed him a cup of hot cocoa. He walked to the sofa and sat down. Everyone else gathered around.
“How much money do we have in our account now?” Lance asked Elvin. Elvin stated a figure, “Close to fifty thousand dollars.”
“That’s so little,” Lance said, offering a starkly different perspective before others could express surprise or satisfaction at the amount. He looked at them and declared, “I never deny the existence of the Federation Dream, but I don’t particularly like it, because it’s not as wonderful as people claim.”
“All Federal Dreams are reserved for those who are prepared, like the salesman who became a publicly listed company director by selling fish hooks, or the wealthy gentleman who became the founder of the largest chain restaurant in the East by selling onions.”
“For example, the insurance agent who became a major shareholder in an insurance company through selling insurance, or those individuals we often hear about.”
“No one ever tells us about their backgrounds, or how they secured loans from banks, or how they came to know Senators and presidents.”
“They only tell us that they once held the lowest-tier jobs in society and then became prominent figures, proclaiming, ‘This is the Federal Dream!'”
Morris suddenly interjected, “I heard that story about the insurance salesman. The insurance company he worked for was his father’s, and he was just interning at the family business.” Lance pointed at him, saying, “Don’t tell outsiders, they won’t believe it!”
The young people couldn’t help but laugh, finding it both absurd and incredible. Morris and Ennio were on good terms. Ennio’s father had always dreamed of achieving his Federal Dream through his role as a salesman.
If anyone was a direct victim of the Federal Dream, Ennio’s father was one of them. However, even now, he seemed to still be doing that job. It’s just that compared to his previous fervor, he seemed to have become more rational after being severely beaten by Will.
Lance sipped his hot cocoa; it was very sweet, no less delicious than a donut. He stated, “I don’t deny that some people succeed, but that’s a very small minority.”
“If we want to earn the respect of others, we must possess something significant.” “Power, status, wealth, and our weapons.”
“You think forty thousand dollars is a lot, but I think it’s very little. It’s our income for the past six months, for all of us, plus the businesses we run, and it’s only this much!” “However, it doesn’t matter; it will multiply quickly!”
He looked at Elvin and instructed, “Leave five thousand dollars for emergencies, then go to the bank and get two more checkbooks. We’ll need them soon.” “Also, for cash, budget carefully. The second batch of liquor will arrive soon, so make sure you have enough cash then.”
Luigi didn’t care about cash or checks; he preferred cash to checks. People from Aldera didn’t care if money was dirty, as long as it was real. Subsequently, Lance discussed ideas on how to distinguish “who is an agent” because the bars were opening soon, and he had heard that the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms, and Explosives was about to commence operations; he needed everyone to master this skill.
“…It’s not easy for these agents to catch us; the most important thing is not to let them get concrete evidence, so refusing them entry into our bars is especially crucial.” Lance lit a cigarette, crossed his legs, and everyone listened intently to him.
“Morris, you’ve met the most diverse range of people among us. How do you tell if a first-time customer knocking on the door is an undercover agent?” Morris scratched his head, genuinely unsure, and hesitated, saying, “He should be very nervous?”
The others also looked at Lance, awaiting his answer. However, Lance shook his head and said, “Look, if you were guarding the door, you and your bar would be finished.”
Morris chuckled, “I’m not good at this, but why?” Lance explained, “We sell alcohol to drunkards; in other words, we are engaged in criminal activity, we are a criminal organization.”
“Do you think a drunkard, even if he knows what he’s doing and what we’re doing, can easily face us, members of a criminal organization he’s never encountered?” As Lance spoke, everyone suddenly felt a profound understanding!
Yes, they couldn’t act relaxed; nervousness was to be expected. Even they themselves, before joining the Lance Family, would feel somewhat nervous when encountering intimidating individuals, finding it difficult to remain composed.
And those ordinary drunkards, they are just drunkards; they too would feel fear towards a criminal organization.
If they weren’t nervous on their first visit to an unfamiliar bar, it would be strange! Seeing their realization, Lance nodded and said, “It seems you all understand; this is what I want to teach you.”
“Conversely, if a newcomer, on their first visit, appears overly relaxed and tries to act familiar, as if they belong, then they definitely have something to hide!”
“If you encounter such a situation, pay attention, remember their appearance, and then refuse them entry.”
“We can earn less from one drink, but we absolutely refuse to sacrifice our bar and our alcohol for a few extra cents!”
Dracy raised her hand from the corner, “If we feel something is off about them, can’t we act against them?”
Lance shook his head, “No, they are law enforcement officers. Do not act against them unless we are fully prepared.”
“If they continue to harass us, remember their faces. We will find a way to deal with them.”
He further elaborated on the issues that would arise once the bars were operational. These included problems with drunkards, fights among patrons, and other such incidents. The recent popularity of the workers’ club had led them to mistakenly believe it was a super-large bar, but it was not.
The clientele in a bar is much more complex than in a workers’ club. What was the workers’ club, after all? Everyone there was a dock worker; you knew me, I knew you. Even if conflicts arose, at most it would be a brief brawl, then back to business as usual.
However, in a bar, someone might pull a knife or even a firearm, and these are the places with the highest risks. If someone died in a bar, it would become quite difficult to manage, and Lance did not want that.
Over the course of an evening, Lance imparted a wealth of useful knowledge, including how to handle various emergencies. As the number of bars and establishments increased, he couldn’t personally oversee every single one.
Ultimately, these individuals would be responsible, and even as the family’s business expanded in the future, they wouldn’t be able to manage so many places alone. They would have to pass down this experience, just like a true family!
The next morning, Lance made time to visit Johnny’s bakery. He was much thinner than when Lance had seen him in December. His arm had healed, and he was no longer in a wheelchair; he had resumed working.
When he saw Lance push open the door, his eyes flickered, then became somewhat… silent. Hiram stood by the door, flipping the “Open” sign to “Closed.” Two men also stood outside; no one seeing this scene would rashly enter.
“Lance … could you…?” Before he could finish his sentence, Lance shook his head and said, “No.”
“You know, friendship is friendship, and debt is debt. We must distinguish between the two.”
“If you want to catch up with an old friend, then give me the money, and I’ll treat you to a seat at the barbecue place next door.”
“But if you think I can waive or reduce your payment, I’m sorry, that’s impossible.”
“Don’t put me in a difficult position, Johnny. I don’t want to resort to force, but don’t compel me to.”
Ultimately, Johnny could only retreat to the small room, closing the door behind him. From somewhere, he retrieved an aluminum box filled with banknotes. He handed over more than half of it to Lance , who counted it and passed it to Hiram.
“It seems you have no intention of eating, so I’ll see you next month, Johnny!” Lance simply squeezed his hat, indicating that the courtesy had been extended. Hiram opened the door, and the two quickly exited, leaving Johnny alone.
He looked at the small aluminum box in his hand, unsure what to say. He had less than six hundred dollars left. He definitely wouldn’t earn four hundred dollars in a month, so he wouldn’t be able to pay next month.
This made him feel some unease, but… he had no other option! His plump daughter and her boyfriend, hiding behind the door, silently watched everything unfold. They wanted to do something, but they were powerless.
Johnny returned to his room, hid the tin box, and sat on the edge of the bed in a daze. After a while, he heard his daughter and her boyfriend arguing in what used to be his bedroom. Vaguely, Johnny understood the cause of their argument.
It was because of debt. If Johnny couldn’t repay the money, he would have to sell his house. However, selling the house would only fetch around two thousand dollars, and he still owed Lance four thousand.
In other words, even if he sold his residence, there would still be a deficit of about seventeen or eighteen hundred dollars. This could potentially affect their storefront. If they lost even their storefront, he, and his entire family, would be truly finished.
He had worked hard for thirty years, only to lose everything due to a few minor accidents. His daughter’s boyfriend planned to leave. During the two months Johnny’s arm was injured, he had learned all the techniques and processes. He was now confident that even if his work wasn’t as good as Johnny’s, it wouldn’t be far off.
This was what Johnny least wanted to see, and why he was unwilling to teach apprentices! The more these people paid, the faster they would leave once they learned. This was like a vicious cycle.
Johnny couldn’t let them learn his craft without paying anything, or for a very small price. And as long as the other party’s contribution was substantial, they would be less united with Johnny.
Perhaps this is why many craftsmen would have their apprentices marry their daughters; only then would their interests be truly intertwined.
The snow outside could not muffle the sounds of their argument. Soon, the argument turned into shouting, and after a while, his plump daughter’s boyfriend slammed the door and left with his belongings. Johnny, who had witnessed it all, sat there as if his soul had been lost.
It had been snowing continuously these days, so the Saturday gathering outside St. Nayer Cathedral was temporarily postponed. Lance had Elvin find a new suitable location for gatherings. Such gatherings held significant general meaning and effect, and should not be suspended due to weather.
As for him, he took some gifts and went to see Patricia. The girl was initially angry that Lance hadn’t come to see her recently. However, upon hearing from William that Lance had been facing difficulties, she forgave him.
Now, everyone in the family knew who Lance was and what his business was. However, each person had a different perspective.
William viewed this as an opportunity. He had already spoken with the Federalists during the state party convention and planned to run for Imperial District Municipal Councilor, hoping to secure their support.
The Federalists were interested in his idea. They stated that as long as he didn’t ask the Federalist Party for money, they would be willing to send people to support him. He now urgently needed to speak with Lance.
Emily (Patricia’s mother) also wanted to meet Lance. After all, she had only seen “gang bosses” in the news, and she didn’t find Lance particularly intimidating.
On the contrary, he was more humble, polite, and humorous than most people!
As for Patricia, her mind was in a bit of a whirl…
(End of chapter)