Chapter 108: Photos and Investigation
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An old man and a young man looked at each other for a moment. The old tailor spoke quietly, “Mr. Lance, what do you want this boy to do?”
In fact, this “boy” was older than Lance, but to the old tailor, he was still a boy. This also showed how much he cared about his son-in-law.
“A clothing factory. I need a manager, but I don’t trust anyone else.”
“You come help me manage this clothing factory, arrange work, storage, procurement, shipments, everything. I’ll pay you a hundred a month.”
The old tailor and his son-in-law both gasped inwardly. A hundred a month was no small amount in their eyes; at least it could solve their current difficulties.
The two glanced at each other again and whispered for a moment. The old tailor finally nodded and said, “That is your kindness. We have no reason to refuse.”
Lance shook hands with the old tailor’s son-in-law. “I haven’t asked your name yet.”
“Reid.”
“Mr. Reid, I hope to see you at this address tomorrow morning…” Lance wrote down an address for him, then smiled and said, “Now, let’s solve the issue with our clothes first.”
The newly made clothes fit very well. After all, the tailor had worked for nobles, which was a rare honor even in the Empire.
Each of the team members changed into the new clothes. This uniform gave them an unprecedented sense of pride and unity!
Mello happily walked over wearing his new clothes. “Shouldn’t we take a photo?”
“I think this is a very memorable moment worth keeping.”
Lance thought for a moment and agreed.
Morris drove to pick up Elvin. This important moment, he had to be here.
In fact, Elvin was recovering well after surgery. As long as he avoided intense activity, standing for a while was fine.
There was a photography shop on the street. When the photographers arrived and saw these young people dressed somewhat sternly but all smiling, the strong contrast made him realize this would be a classic photo!
Everyone squeezed together, Lance stood in the middle. Under the photographer’s direction, everyone stood in their designated spots.
“Look here. When I raise my hand, you all say ‘cheese.'”
Ethan was not used to the slightly tight clothes and whispered, “Why do we have to say cheese? Can’t we say ham?”
Elvin glanced back at him sharply, “Shut up. Are you the photographer or him?”
Ethan rolled his eyes. Facing the camera, when the photographer raised his hand, the young faces all smiled. The sudden flash lit up everyone like the light of an era shining upon them!
Several shots were taken. They even brought a chair for Lance to sit on, while others stood around behind the chair.
This time, they didn’t stand so seriously, which somehow gave the photographer an indescribable feeling.
Elvin leaned against Ethan. Ethan looked at the distant sky. Morris looked at the camera but held a stack of playing cards in his hand.
Ennio made a finger-gun gesture with his good hand, pointing at his temple. He thought it looked cool…
Everyone showed their own style. As for Lance, he took out a red handkerchief, shook it lightly, and stuffed it into his breast pocket.
He crossed his legs, held the chair’s armrests with both hands, leaned back slightly, and looked at the camera with a slightly condescending, even disdainful gaze.
The photographer behind the lens felt a slight chill, but he still captured this moment at just the right time.
Occasionally, passersby who saw this would be briefly stunned, then quickly walk away. But this scene would stay in their memories for a long time, growing deeper with each recall.
Lance shook hands with the photographer and gave him five dollars.
“Thank you for taking the time to come. When can we get the photos?”
“I mean, I want some large prints, not the small photos you hold in your hand. I want to hang them in a room, preferably as big as a window.”
The photographer nodded repeatedly. “No problem, Mr. Lance. I promise this is the best photo I’ve ever taken. I even think it could win an award from the Federation of Photographers!”
He was hopeful, but Lance didn’t agree. “It’s not a trophy for anyone, right?”
The photographer was a bit disappointed. “Yes, that’s my problem.” He paused, then put the money in his pocket. “If you’re in a hurry, I can develop the photos quickly.”
Lance took out two more dollars and handed it to him. “Then please hurry.”
“You’re jealous,” the old tailor said, smoking his pipe. His eyes glanced sideways between his forehead and glasses at his son-in-law. He could see Reid’s expression looked like he wanted to join them.
Reid did not deny it. “They give me a feeling I can’t explain. I think… this will be a legend.”
The old tailor neither agreed nor refused. He just reminded him, “This might let you live the life you want, but it could also send you to hell.”
He had lived a long life and had seen too much. He knew very well what these young people were doing.
He couldn’t judge if what Lance and the others did was right or wrong. Every era had its own characteristics and ways of living. This was the Federation, not the Empire. He was an old man, not a young one.
He couldn’t see the social trends and directions as clearly as when he was young. What he could do was little, like a stubborn rock left behind after the waves of time had passed.
He also knew he couldn’t control Reid, couldn’t stop or force him to do anything. He could only offer his experience as a reference when Reid chose his path in life.
Reid lit a cigarette. “But we are already in hell, aren’t we?”
The chair was moved back. Lance walked over to them. “Excellent craftsmanship. I have some things to attend to these days, but in a few days we can talk about me funding you to open a shop.”
“Considering you might get very busy, and your son-in-law isn’t around, if you want, I can find some Empire people to be your apprentices.”
“I’ll handle all their problems. You just need to make them work.”
The old tailor didn’t hesitate long and agreed. “I’m old now. One day I won’t be able to work anymore. I plan to pass my skills to Reid, but it seems he’s no longer very interested.”
He shook Lance’s hand. “I only have one daughter. Reid is like a son to me. I hope you can take good care of him.”
Lance patted his hand. “I will take care of every family member!”
The old tailor left quickly. Lance called Ethan over. “You know about leather shoes. Help us get some shoes. They don’t have to be from a famous brand or cobbler, but you have to make sure we look decent. Get the money from Mello.”
Ethan’s father was a cobbler, so he had been exposed to all kinds of leather goods since childhood and knew this line better than anyone else.
Sure enough, Ethan, who usually stayed silent, answered loudly, “No problem.”
Lance patted his arm, signaling he could get to work.
Mello walked over and stood beside him. “All this feels unbelievable, Lance. Everyone seems to have undergone a baptism. We’ve been elevated — body, soul, and spirit!”
“All this, you brought it to us!”
Lance smoothed his actually neat hair. “Someone has to stand at the front to break the waves for us, Mello.”
“Rather than waiting for someone else to do it, I’ll be that person!”
He paused. “We might have more companies in the future. I plan to split the legal and illegal parts into two. You help me find someone trustworthy, preferably clean.”
“Of course, if you want to go over there, that’s fine, but then our contact here will decrease.”
Mello nodded seriously. “I understand. I will find that person as soon as possible.”
Around 2 p.m., a police car stopped outside the office. Two officers got out.
Both wore sunglasses and looked at the busy office, then walked straight inside.
“Is your boss here?” One officer scanned around, finally focusing on a girl at the front desk.
He took off his sunglasses and leaned against the bar counter, tapping his fingers on it.
Lance had told the girls that if the police asked about him, they should tell them he was in his office.
The girl gave directions. The two officers observed the busy work as they walked toward the back.
At first, they seemed casual. This kind of work was a perk for them. They even thought about intimidating the boss and shaking him down for some money.
But as they passed the last few rooms, through a half-open door, they suddenly saw some men in suits with slicked-back hair, their eyes unsettling. Weapons and knives were laid out on the table.
Maybe their footsteps were too loud, drawing attention. One man sitting near the door stood, walked over, watched them, and gently closed the door.
The officers’ breathing quickened, and their hearts started racing. The officer behind even put his hand on his holster!
These people were gang members, and not small-time troublemakers.
They exchanged a glance and saw seriousness in each other’s eyes, but their orders came from above the precinct. If they had a choice, they wanted to leave now.
But they couldn’t. They had to tough it out and continue walking.
At the end of the corridor, a door was labeled “Manager’s Office.” They exchanged a look and knocked.
“Come in.”
A voice called. The officer took a deep breath and pushed the door open, followed by his partner.
Lance sat behind the desk, smiling at the officers. “How can I help you?”
“Officer?”
After entering, the officers closed the door and stood by it while the officer sat on the chair opposite Lance.
“I’m Officer Ferren from the Port Precinct. I have some questions for you. Do you have time now?”
He was polite, but the politeness didn’t come from noble character.
(End of Chapter)
