Weapons are incredibly common in Jingang City.
When violence becomes the rule in broad daylight, weapons inevitably become a key resource—both to defend oneself and to infringe on the rights of others.
Faced with the choice between “having a gun in hand” and “reporting to the police afterward,” any smart resident of Jingang City knows which option to take.
Although weapons are everywhere, not everyone possesses them, let alone openly displays them.
Only three types of people dare to do that—
First, the federal law enforcement officers. They have the legal right to carry guns; if they shoot you, all they have to do is file a report saying, “… I showed my ID, then he tried to grab my weapon, so I followed protocol under Section…,” and then they get a nice vacation, with enthusiastic greetings from colleagues upon their return.
The second group is gang members, who not only don’t hide their weapons but wish for as many people as possible to see them.
The thrill of knowing their weapons can kill fills them with excitement.
The third group comprises those who work for capitalists.
They’re the scariest because the first two groups at least abide by some rules. But the capitalist’s people? They only recognize money.
In the face of money, laws and morals are nothing that would stop them from pulling the trigger.
On the western outskirts of Jingang City is a place called Angel Lake, a popular tourist spot, with a local saying known only to residents:
“When capitalists get angry, the water level in Angel Lake rises!”
Outsiders might not understand this, but locals know that the lake level rises because of all the oil barrels dumped in it!
Whichever kind it is, nobody messes with these bastards.
People at the bottom of society actually understand how to navigate these crises and make choices better than most adults might assume.
So when faced with an imminent crisis, this man immediately gave in without a moment’s hesitation—so quickly that it almost looked… practiced!
“I’ll do it right away, and I promise it won’t happen again!”
Fordis retracted his hand, letting his coat naturally fall to conceal his weapon, which allowed the man in front of him to finally take a breath.
Just in those few seconds, his mind had gone blank, his body was drenched in sweat—he’d felt like he’d nearly died!
He looked at Elvin and Lance with newfound wariness.
“I have some things I’d like to discuss with… this gentleman here.”
Fordis glanced at Lance for a few seconds, then turned away. “I’ll be here if you need anything.”
In the entire company, Fordis was among the boss’s most trusted men. If he’d been sent out on this errand, it was certainly because the boss found this young man intriguing. ṙἁΝ𝘖ꞖĚS
He knew what to do.
Lance gestured for the trembling drunk to step aside. “Unless you’d like to chat out here in the hallway, which I’m sure your neighbors would love to overhear.”
“If you’re okay becoming the laughingstock of this dormitory by tomorrow, we can continue here.”
The man suddenly realized what was happening. Though he still held some fear, disgust, and resentment, he moved aside to let Lance in.
Federal people still cared about their pride—even a bastard of a drunk.
The apartment was a typical one for people at the bottom—less than forty square meters, with a cramped kitchen, dining area, and bathroom, and beyond them, a bedroom and a small storage room.
This setup was rather interesting.
Those in the lower levels of the federation could go without a separate kitchen, but not without a storage room.
Though most poor folks had very little, they always had a collection of inexplicable, useless things they refused to part with—junk, essentially.
Just like themselves, in terms of their worth on the path of life.
Without a storage room, the place would be an utter mess.
There was no sign of a woman or child’s presence, but a photo frame on the dining table held a picture of the man and a child. The whole scene suggested the man wasn’t doing too well.
The suspicious stains and strange odor on the sofa made Lance decide not to sit. He stood nearby, close to the door.
“Listen, Ethan is my friend. I’ll have him apologize for his reckless behavior, but you’re at fault, too. You shouldn’t have tried to deduct money from his pay.”
The drunk man nodded instinctively, murmuring “uh-huh” in response.
“So after the case is closed, he’ll apologize, but you also need to return the wages you withheld from him.”
“I’ll see that he doesn’t pursue this further, but you have to promise this is the last time.”
“Your arrangement will remain in place. He’ll keep using your work card every month, paying you fairly. But you won’t make things difficult for him by withholding pay.”
Lance walked over to the table, picked up the picture frame, and remarked, “Cute kid. Yours?”
The drunk man snapped out of his daze, suddenly tense. “This has nothing to do with him.”
Lance put the frame down, smiling. “Whether he’s involved or not depends on your choice, sir.”
“We’re all just despicable stowaways here, thieves from another world. There’s nothing here worth holding on to for us.”
“But you have family here. You have a child, don’t you?”
The man nodded repeatedly. “I get it. I’ll give him the money, but please, don’t make any trouble.”
Lance’s hand rested on the edge of the table, and he suddenly felt the sticky grime. It was unpleasant, though he restrained himself from showing it.
“I’ve always believed that everything runs according to certain patterns and rules.”
“As long as rules exist, we’ll follow them. That’s enough.”
“At market rate, fifteen dollars is what you’re due. Nobody has the right to take away your money—that’s the rule.”
“As long as you follow the rules, so will we.”
From his position near the door, Elvin watched Lance with admiration. He never expected so much could happen in one day!
Ethan ran off, they got into trouble, then Lance took him to borrow money. They didn’t get the money, but they solved the problem.
He even rode in a car and saw Lance act so cool in person!
It was so worth it!
Too cool!
Despite his daze, the drunk man finally came to his senses. “I know what to do now.”
After a moment’s hesitation, he asked, “Can I know your name?”
With a confident, self-assured smile, as if everything were under his control, Lance replied, “Lance.”
A few minutes later, the drunk man had changed into a different set of clothes. Though they still carried a strong odor, they were better than before.
In silence, he got into the car. When they arrived at the precinct, he immediately explained the situation and signed a document under the watchful eye of some impatient police officers.
From inside the car, Lance watched the events unfold through the glass window. It was a curious feeling.
Fordis couldn’t hold back his curiosity any longer and asked, “Aren’t you scared?”
Lance looked back at him in the rearview mirror. “Scared of what?”
Fordis smirked. “This is a police station, and as far as I know, you’re an undocumented person. And so is the kid with you.”
Lance couldn’t help but run his hand over the car door. The smooth walnut wood felt satisfying, explaining why some people liked classic cars.
“Not at all.”
“Mind if I ask why?”
“Because there’s twenty thousand dollars between me and them, and that’s a gap they won’t cross.”
Fordis pondered this for a moment before saying with some admiration, “That’s a wise answer. Are you really only eighteen?”
Lance didn’t answer, only smiled.
Not far away, under a bridge, Ethan hid in an abandoned culvert where many homeless people lived.
This place stayed warm in winter since the wind couldn’t get in, and it remained cool in summer thanks to shade and the cold air seeping from nearby pipes.
Facing the drunk man, Ethan apologized earnestly, “I shouldn’t have hit you so impulsively. I’m sorry, sir.”
As he spoke, the man could still feel the ache in his cheekbone from Ethan’s earlier punch.
Ethan was only twenty but looked at least twenty-seven or twenty-eight, maybe even older.
He was strong. His father had been a leatherworker—a respected profession both in the Empire and the Federation.
Leatherworking symbolized a craft, a social standing.
It’s hard to imagine leatherworkers having social status, but looking back at historical shifts in social class, it did exist.
Because originally, those who could afford leather goods were usually nobles. So leatherworkers initially served the nobility, giving them a status above ordinary people.
Thanks to his father’s stable income and social standing, Ethan grew up tall and strong.
The drunk, now facing this intimidating young man, watched Ethan bow with an expression of relief.
He glanced at Lance and Fordis, finally facing reality. “I made some mistakes, too. It wasn’t all your fault. We’re even…”
Ethan received his twenty dollars, not a cent short. The man had planned to give him a bit more, but Lance refused.
Rules are rules, and it’s best not to break them when you lack power—that’s survival.
After watching the drunk man leave, Lance asked Fordis to wait a little longer. He had a few more things to discuss with Ethan.