karlmaks
Stories
5
Chapters
1,540
Words
2.4 M
Comments
0
Reading
8 d, 9 h
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Mr. White was a typical middle-aged man of the Federation, carrying an air of gloom about him. His pale complexion made the dark circles under his eyes even more pronounced. His unkempt, light brown hair hung messily over his head, and he wore a short-sleeved white shirt that had been washed so many times it was now yellowing. His light blue pants bore the telltale signs of numerous repairs. His wife, Mrs. White, looked ill—timid and uneasy. She dared not lift her head to meet Lance's gaze or that of…-
545.2 K • Ongoing
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It seemed there had been a shift in the political game at the upper echelons of the Federation. On live television, the President finally issued a direct response to the Empire's accusations against the Federation: "The Federation has never condoned any discrimination against immigrants from the Empire, whether they arrived legally or not!" Previously, the Federation President had avoided responding to these accusations. But this time, he declared that such claims were baseless rumors. Even if…
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545.2 K • Ongoing
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"Families of missing children?" Officer Brayden frowned. "So you’re planning to…?" "Give them a child," Lance replied, "healthy, handsome, polite, and willing to pay them $200. Of course, they’d need to keep their mouths shut about the arrangement." Lance didn’t hide his intentions, as he needed Brayden’s help to execute the plan. Brayden’s eyes lit up. "That’s quite the unique business. You shouldn’t share ideas like that so freely." Lance leaned forward slightly. "Consider it a…
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545.2 K • Ongoing
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“Mr. Jobav wants to talk to you.” Lance turned toward the man who had spoken, recognizing him as Mr. Jobav’s assistant. Wrapping up his conversation with the teenagers and leaving them his contact information, Lance followed the assistant. The name "Jobav" carried significant weight among the Empire’s immigrants. Back in the Empire, nobility and power garnered attention. Here, wealth determined prominence, and Jobav, with his considerable fortune, was undeniably in the spotlight. Ironically,…
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545.2 K • Ongoing
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Early the next morning, Lance picked up a copy of the Jingang Daily. Alberto had bought 50 copies to ensure everyone in his company saw it, including Lance. The front page of the lifestyle section featured a photo taking up nearly a fifth of the page: a restaurant with a septic truck overturned on the roadside, sewage flooding the sidewalk, and the glass walls of the restaurant visibly smeared with waste. The restaurant’s name was crystal clear in the photo, along with the neon chef sign modeled after…
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545.2 K • Ongoing
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Hearing the mention of a septic truck, Alberto’s interest was piqued. “Are you planning to flood his restaurant with sewage?” “That’s a great idea. Who the hell would eat in a cesspool?” Lance shook his head. “I hate to disappoint you, but if we dump sewage in his restaurant, it would be illegal. Fines, cleanup costs, and even a public apology might cost more than what he owes you.” Alberto thought for a moment and nodded. Lance had a point. He wanted money and satisfaction, not to pay…
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545.2 K • Ongoing
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The restaurant manager looked at the feces smeared across the glass walls, the yellow sludge splattered through the front door, and the road outside covered in filth. For a moment, he felt like laughing. But seeing Mr. Anderson’s furious expression, he held it in. He walked over to Mr. Anderson, who was currently busy directing the apprentices in cleaning up the mess. Surprisingly, after the morning’s relentless assaults, the apprentices seemed to have developed a psychological immunity to feces.…
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545.2 K • Ongoing
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By midday, the stench still lingered around the restaurant, attracting a crowd of curious onlookers. In the Federation, people never lacked a sense of schadenfreude. Watching someone else face misfortune or humiliation often gave them a strange, inward satisfaction. The restaurant only served three tables during lunch, and those customers left with harsh complaints. The awful smell had ruined their meals, and they vowed never to return. To appease them, the manager waived their bills and handed out wine…
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545.2 K • Ongoing
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Monday morning, Mr. Anderson was up early, and so were the apprentices, cooks, and waitstaff—he’d demanded everyone arrive earlier than usual. The previous night, he had hired someone to make a large sign: - Due to high demand, the maximum dining time is two hours. Customers exceeding this limit may be asked to settle their bill and leave. - Single diners may be required to share tables during busy hours. - The restaurant reserves the right to refuse service to suspicious individuals. The sign was…
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545.2 K • Ongoing
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A police car slowly cruised down the street, its siren lights rotating lazily as if reluctant to disturb the morning calm. The officer in the passenger seat was munching on a heavily decorated donut—stuffed with strawberry jam, dusted with powdered sugar, and drizzled with honey. It was so sweet it could make someone sick, but the Federation folks loved it. Pairing it with a fizzy soda and a gas-filled belch afterward was the dream for many. “What do you think Anderson’s calling about this time?”…
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545.2 K • Ongoing
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