Chapter 391

“I won, hahaha, I won!” he laughed as he slammed his cards on the table. His excitement made him ignore the fact that the people around him weren’t looking at him, but at what was behind him.

He reached out to rake in the money on the table, only to see that the people at the table had abandoned even their money boxes and turned to flee.

It was then that he turned his head to look at the roadside.

In that process, he could feel something he couldn’t describe calling to him, as if he had suddenly gained access to his own destiny.

He saw his own lifeline, and in the next second, it snapped.

Two gunmen sat in a car, the dark muzzles of their guns aimed right at him.

Time seemed to freeze at that moment. His vision became exceptionally sharp; he could even see the faces of the two gunmen clearly!

His brain told his body to dodge, but time was frozen, and his body couldn’t do it.

He wanted to curse or something. The moment that thought appeared, time resumed.

The curse was never uttered, drowned out by the sound of gunfire.

The rat-a-tat of bullets tore through the street that had just quieted down. He fell from his chair, still thinking of crawling back into the deli, but he had been shot too many times. After a brief struggle on the ground, he went still.

The car’s wheels spun so fast they screeched against the ground, sending up puffs of blue smoke. The car sped away and disappeared into the city streets. Some of his subordinates, holding weapons, rushed out of the deli, bent over, but they couldn’t even catch the car’s exhaust.

They looked at their leader, lying in a pool of blood, and for a moment, they didn’t know what to do.

…

In a small square, a man who looked no different from an ordinary person held a bag of pigeon feed. A large number of pigeons had gathered around him.

He liked feeding pigeons, not because pigeons are a symbol of peace, but simply because he found these little creatures cute, not as complicated as people.

He would come here from time to time, attracting the pigeons.

As he came more often, the pigeons obviously became less afraid of him.

Their pure white feathers symbolized purity. Being with these small animals brought him no burden; it was also a way for him to relieve his stress.

He sat on a bench, grabbed another handful of rice, corn, and other things, and threw some out.

A large flock of pigeons flapped their wings, scrambling for the feed on the ground in front of him. He glanced at a few of his subordinates in the distance, his mind on the future development of his gang.

Lance clearly wanted to unify the Port District with a strong hand. He was not willing to be ruled by others.

Initially, the Brotherhood controlled this place, then the Wolf Gang, and now came the Lance Family.

When could they truly stand up?

He didn’t know, but he knew that he didn’t really have many choices.

Either stay and continue to fight, or leave on the spot.

Just as he was considering these things, a few people suddenly walked towards him.

His subordinates took the initiative to block their path and said in a voice he could vaguely hear, “If you don’t want trouble, you’d better take another road!”

He looked at those people. He didn’t have a saintly mentality, nor did he have any intention of letting them pass. This was his privilege, and he was fully entitled to enjoy it.

“You’d better not scare my pigeons!” he muttered. If the other party scared his pigeons, he would make them pay the price.

However, the next second, the sudden sound of gunfire sent a large flock of pigeons flying into the sky in fright!

The flapping pigeons and the feathers they shed as they flew up in panic blocked his vision. He couldn’t see what was happening and even had to use his arm to protect his head.

When the pigeons began to circle in the air, he was finally able to look at the place where the gunshots had come from.

His subordinates were all lying on the ground. Four gunmen were already standing less than five meters away from him, their pistols raised.

“I…” he wanted to beg for mercy, but the next second he saw the faint flames at the muzzles of those guns.

A wave of force pierced his body. He fell to the ground, stiff.

The last thing left in his eyes was the pigeons circling in the sky.

A dropping of pigeon shit fell from the sky and landed on his face. The light in his eyes slowly faded, never to be seen again.

…

“Fuck, fuck!”

In an alley in a city block, a young man of twenty-four or twenty-five was running frantically.

His face was full of terror, because just now, two gunmen had shot at him.

He had reacted, and his brother had blocked a few shots for him.

This should have been a “touching story” similar to the one between Paul and his cousin, but if you consider that he had pushed his brother, perhaps the story would not be so perfect.

In short, he had dodged the first round of shooting and run into the alley.

He was very familiar with this place. He returned fire while running wildly.

The alleys in the Federation were very clean. There was no clutter here to obstruct the people chasing him from behind, because anything of even the slightest value had been taken away by the homeless to be sold for money.

Those worthless things, such as wood, things that could burn, had also been taken by them and turned into firewood, thrown into discarded oil drums and lit, to be used for warmth in the winter.

So besides trash, shit, and piss, there was really nothing else here.

The people behind were chasing him closely. He felt his lungs beginning to burn.

Since he no longer needed to run frequently to escape trouble as he had in the past, he rarely engaged in strenuous exercise.

This also led to a huge decline in his physical strength, so much so that he was panting after running for not too long.

Run, run faster, or you’ll die!

There were only two people behind him, but he had a feeling that if he stopped, he would die.

At this moment, he wanted to curse all the fools and homeless people who had taken anything even slightly useful from this alley.

At the same time, he hoped that his subordinates could catch up as soon as possible and help him escape the slaughter.

As long as he could survive this assassination, he promised, he would immediately leave the Port District.

He actually knew who had arranged for the people to assassinate him. He now had a little regret. Why did he object in the first place?

He hated himself, and he hated Lance. Why didn’t Lance send people to talk to him in private?

The Wolf Gang, the Professor, Wolf, didn’t they all do it this way?

Seeing the light at the mouth of the alley getting stronger and stronger, a smile of escape appeared on his face.

As long as he could rush out of the alley, cross the road, he would be able to see his men on the other side.

His burning lungs seemed to have improved a lot, and his tired steps became light again. The moment he rushed out of the shadows and embraced the sunlight, a car quickly hit him and sent him flying.

He lay on the ground, his body twitching continuously. Blood slowly seeped from his mouth and nose.

He couldn’t move now, only his eyeballs could still turn a little. He was still alive, but not far from death.

The two gunmen rushed out of the alley. They put their weapons into their holsters, then quickly got into the car and drove away from his side.

A strong urge to vomit rose from the bottom of his heart. More and more blood came out. He didn’t know why, it was clearly summer, and he was clearly bathing in the sunlight…

But he still felt that not only was he getting colder and colder, but everything around him was also being constantly devoured by darkness…

The vehicles returned to the company. The gunmen got out of the cars and handed their weapons to the gunsmith.

Although the Golden Port police might not dare to cause trouble for Lance now, it was always necessary to be prepared.

They handed in their guns and went to report to Lance, describing in detail how they had dealt with the guy.

Lance listened very seriously. When he heard that the other party had started vomiting blood and convulsing after being hit, he nodded with satisfaction.

“Go to Mello’s and collect your mission bonus. You will have a five-day vacation.”

“You can continue to work and accumulate these vacation days, or you can go and relax. The hot girls are waiting for you.”

The gunmen, including the driver, all left with a smile. Another hundred-something in bonus. This was why they were willing to work for Lance.

Never in arrears. As soon as the work was over, they could get the money immediately.

The door was closed again. Lance glanced at the list on the table. “There are still two who haven’t been dealt with. One hasn’t been found, and one… has already run away.”

He placed the list on the corner of the table and looked at Morris, who was sitting in a wheelchair in the corner.

It was clearly the middle of summer, but his legs were covered with a thin blanket. From time to time, he would cough a couple of times and show a painful expression.

The surgery on his lungs was over, and he was in the process of recovering. This might continue for some time.

As for how well he could recover, no one knew.

“This matter is yours to handle.”

A grateful expression appeared on Morris’s face. He didn’t want to really become a cripple. To be able to do something within his power for the family was his faith and motivation to live now.

“Cough… leave it to me.”

Lance nodded slightly, then looked at Elvin. “Go and tell those gang members, either pack up their things and go home and find a job, or go to other districts. Don’t fucking stay on my turf.”

“They are not needed here.”

“Also, tell the boys to find all the more prominent street elders in the neighborhoods here. I have something to say to them.”

“Dracy will be in charge of selecting the locations. We need to open at least twenty to thirty bars in the Port District. As soon as a location is chosen, we’ll open for business. Everything as usual…”

Lance methodically arranged each task and mission, and soon all the arrangements were finished.

He then made a call to Sub-bureau Chief Bruce. “Is there a new candidate for the Port District sub-bureau chief yet?”

“There is. Do you have business with him?” Sub-bureau Chief Bruce probed. He didn’t know what Lance was looking for them for, but it was definitely right to ask first.

Lance’s stock had been rising continuously recently. At the senator’s party, many people had seen him talking with the people around the senator.

They had also seen him exchange business cards with the Secretary of State, and Councilman Williams was also accompanying him.

Although many people believed this was because the Lance Family had helped the senator solve the port strike problem, and although the methods were a bit drastic, it was indeed solved.

Now no one was on strike at the docks. The blood on the ground had been cleaned up by the new refugee workers. Everything was as if nothing had happened.

Lance had done a beautiful job and hadn’t caused trouble for anyone, so he was received and praised.

However, some people also believed that he was already on the old path of the Five Families and was beginning to squeeze into high society.

Now the Five Families were already on a downward slope.

The Pasoretto Family was seriously wounded due to “internal strife.” Now Francisco couldn’t suppress his grandfathers, uncles, and aunts and could only protect himself.

The Kodak Family did not participate in this series of events this time. They wanted to stay out of it, but it was clear that their actions were considered a betrayal of the vested interest group of Golden Port, so their days would definitely not be easy.

The demise of the Cassia Family was already on a countdown. If there were no accidents, the Keane and Tita families, after finishing off the Bear Gang, would come to deal with the Cassia Family.

The Five Families were basically facing a reshuffle. Lance had a slight chance to become one of the new Five Families.

Some people believed that the Lance Family might replace the Cassia Family and become one of the new Five Great Families.

However, this was hard to say, because there were still some gangs competing. Lance was not without opponents.

It’s just that among these “candidates,” the overall strength of the Lance Family had not suffered any major damage and was still continuing to expand.

The Lance Family, with two districts, had basically surpassed the vast majority of gangs.

Once they became one of the new Five Greats, they would naturally become even more extraordinary.

So Sub-bureau Chief Bruce became more and more “enthusiastic and loyal”—

Enthusiastic, and loyal.

Lance could feel Sub-bureau Chief Bruce’s caution, as well as his curiosity. He explained, “I have already taken the two largest districts in Golden Port. Now I have the right to re-establish some of the rules.”

“You guys come over, and we’ll talk.”

“Okay, I’ll call him and we’ll go over right away.”

After hanging up, Sub-bureau Chief Bruce drove directly to the Port District sub-bureau.

The position of the city police chief was determined by the mayor, but the position of the sub-bureau chief was decided by the city police chief. Now the position of the city police chief was temporarily vacant.

It was said that Hunter had re-submitted an application, recommending himself to become the new police chief. It was not certain when the result would be seen.

However, everyone felt that the possibility was very high.

Although there was no chief now, Hunter also had a little bit of authority. They used some loopholes in the procedures and directly appointed the sub-bureau chief.

The new sub-bureau chief of the Port District was named Duke, a local, who, like most sub-bureau chiefs, had been in the police system for many years.

Not a particularly outstanding person, but not unknown either.

If he were truly unknown, Hunter would not have chosen him.

After Sub-bureau Chief Bruce explained the situation, Duke got into his car directly.

Senator Cleveland’s train had just started, and Lance’s side had already made a move against the remaining gang leaders in the Port District.

The assassination, as precise as a scalpel, also made him a little apprehensive. After all, there were rumors that John was killed by Lance.

He even dared to kill the police chief. A sub-bureau chief like him probably didn’t even register in Lance’s eyes.

The two soon arrived at Lance’s office. After a simple introduction, he and Sub-bureau Chief Bruce sat down opposite Lance’s desk.

Lance opened a cigarette box and gestured for them to smoke. Both took one.

“I’ve always felt that some of the current rules are a bit unreasonable.”

Sub-bureau Chief Bruce and Duke looked at each other after lighting their cigarettes. They just nodded but did not speak.

Lance continued, “For example, the gangs collect fees from the roadside operators, and the police are also collecting fees from them. Most of the income of a shop in a month goes into someone else’s pocket.”

“The Port District has many geographical advantages. It should be more prosperous than it is now.”

“But it’s precisely because of some reasons, for example, the chaotic fees, that the business environment here is not satisfactory.”

He pressed the fingertips of both hands together, forming a steeple shape. “My idea is to set a fee standard and unify it.”

“Whether it’s us or you, we don’t directly collect fees from the shops. Many people actually don’t follow the rules. I’ve encountered it.”

He was talking about John, who had clearly overcharged, not only breaking the rules but also putting huge operating pressure on the operators.

“It can’t be that this group of people comes to collect once today, and another group comes again tomorrow. What we need to do is to cultivate the environment, not to destroy it.”

“The more prosperous the Port District is, the better it is for us, whether in terms of income or in other aspects.”

The two sub-bureau chiefs looked at each other again. They both wanted the other to speak. In the end, it was Sub-bureau Chief Bruce who spoke. He was more familiar with Lance and could speak better.

“Lance, actually… we’ve talked about this problem. We have a lot of problems here that need to be solved. The police’s income is too low, and it’s too dangerous.”

“This money we collect is an incentive for us, and even more so, a guarantee. In case something happens, at least there won’t be any regrets because of lack of money.”

Lance nodded in agreement. “You’re right. I’m not saying we shouldn’t collect it, but there must be a standard. We’ll set up a company to do this.”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you, but some things really need to be treated seriously.”

“How much money to collect each month, how to divide this money, there must be a set of rules and regulations, open and transparent.”

“And let me say one thing, we on our side will not profit from this.”

The two considered for a moment. Duke finally spoke. “Mr. White…”

“We are friends. Friends all call me Lance.”

“Lance… how much do you plan to charge them?”

“And how much can we get?”

Lance leaned back. “Only more, not less. This is what I can guarantee.”

(End of chapter)