Chapter 173

All night, Sam cursed. The men he had demanded from Lance were back.

But they were back, hanging on a noose! He didn’t know when Lance’s people had come to his room, hanging the two men from the attic’s spire.

Every time the wind blew, they would sway. When the wind was light, there was a soft thump, thump, thump sound; when the wind was strong, it was like a final, soul-striking blow!

When the two men were taken down from the house, they were frozen stiff. The sub-zero sea wind wouldn’t take long to freeze a person to death.

Sam had seen dead people before, but seeing these two corpses made him vomit. Their exposed areas were abraded and bloody from the exterior wall and roof.

He had them buried as quickly as possible; he never wanted to see them again. He hadn’t slept well all night.

Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the image of the corpse violently smashing against the window.

This also terrified him, a fear of something suddenly crashing into his bedroom window. It was also a fear, even a terror!

One day, he too might be hung somewhere like that. The wind would blow, and he would sway with it.

At the same time, he understood a truth. Lance, seemingly normal, was actually abnormal in the head! It was better not to provoke him casually!

He had made up his mind. Over the years, he had sacrificed so much—his dignity, his bottom line, his integrity—to reach this point.

He wouldn’t fall here because of these matters. He once swore to the remnants of his past self, who still harbored dreams and hopes, that he must become superior to others!

Over the next few days, everything seemed to return to normal, but in the Empire District, many people were discussing one thing: the Imperial Chamber of Commerce.

Some felt… this was just another trick, another tactic for the Lance family to collect protection fees. They even swore that—

“Once you join the Lance Chamber of Commerce, you’ll find that they definitely have some kind of low-level membership, mid-level membership, high-level membership, and so on.”

“They will definitely find a way to make you a high-level member, because high-level members will definitely pay more!”

“Ten dollars is just for low-level members; perhaps mid-level members will be twenty or thirty, and high-level members will be forty or fifty or even more.”

“I think it’s very possible. Although they did some good deeds, they also have to make money, right?”

“How could someone do so much without aiming to make money?”

There were many such opinions, very diverse. Everyone had their own views and opinions, making it impossible for anyone to easily convince anyone else. T

he Lance family’s actions during this period had gained them many supporters.

These supporters and the habitual opposition became the focus of street debates. They stood in groups of three or five, chatting or arguing.

Whenever a member of the Lance family passed by, they would shut up. But as soon as they left, they would certainly resume their arguments.

In a coffee shop in the neighborhood, Mr. Jobav, who had returned from out of town, was drinking coffee and listening to the conversations of the people in the shop. His assistant sat opposite him.

A while ago, he went to the state government for the New Year. The mayor needed to make courtesy greetings to some Socialist Party members in the state government, which meant sending money and gifts.

Federals actually did this too, and they cared more about the ritual aspect. Jobav had heard before that the Federal government and political parties were clean, efficient, free, and open governments and parties.

Everyone conducted business officially, with no private dealings or bribery; everything seemed fair and just. He once firmly believed this, because he had given gifts before, but no one accepted them.

But in reality, it was just because he hadn’t joined their system, hadn’t joined their circle; he was an “outsider.”

So they didn’t include him and wouldn’t accept his gifts. Who knew if he really wanted to give gifts or if he wanted to gain leverage, evidence.

For a while, their act of closing doors to him made him feel that those claims were true: there was no need to deal with complex interpersonal relationships, no need to deal with complex political relationships; just conducting business officially was enough.

But when he joined this circle, he realized everything was false.

He was responsible for contacting over twenty Socialist Party members. T

he average gifts and cash given to each person amounted to about fifteen hundred dollars. Five hundred dollars in gifts and one thousand dollars in cash. T

his was just a New Year’s gift for maintaining daily relations. Not just him, but others were also doing the same work.

Many people wanted to curry favor with the mayor, but compared to Jobav, their lives were clearly a bit easier because they were Federals.

Actually, he was willing to give money and gifts this time, because it was essentially a way for him to expand his network.

Although others accepted his gifts this time out of respect for the mayor, he had already exchanged business cards with these gentlemen.

Next time, he could bypass the mayor and contact these people directly. However, he would be very careful and cautious in doing so.

He wouldn’t bypass the mayor unless absolutely necessary; he understood the stakes.

This trip cost over forty-five thousand dollars in total. Since he joined the mayor’s faction, he had been continuously spending money, which pained him greatly!

He had already decided to commit fully, so naturally, this was the only way.

As soon as he returned to Golden Port, he heard people discussing. He put down his coffee cup. “Lance’s ambition is truly great!”

“What has he been doing recently?”

He had once considered the idea of a chamber of commerce, but it never materialized. Firstly, few of these immigrants were wealthy.

If they were all poor, it was better not to establish one. The purpose of a chamber of commerce was to exchange resources, but what resources did he have to exchange with those poor people?

Although there were a few wealthy ones, they didn’t often come to play, and inviting them suddenly wasn’t very appropriate, so the matter was dropped.

He funded a regular gathering at St. Naya Cathedral, which was equivalent to a “chamber of commerce,” where everyone regularly exchanged experiences and shared opportunities. But he hadn’t expected Lance to actually plan one.

He didn’t know where Lance got his confidence, but he felt that this matter was definitely not simple.

“Contact him. Tell him we also intend to join his chamber of commerce.”

The assistant nodded. After the death of his nephew, whom he loved like his own son, he had undergone some profound changes.

He was no longer as lively as before; he had become much more somber.

Jobav looked at the people around him chatting enthusiastically, as if dispersing the cold air outside.

He suddenly felt a bit dull. Then he left a one-dollar bill and a twenty-five-cent coin on the table, then stood up and left.

He used to enjoy this: sitting among ordinary citizens, listening to them talk about life and work, then at some point being recognized by some people, and then chatting amiably with everyone, and occasionally paying their bill. Mr. Jobav’s good reputation came from this.

People always said he didn’t have the arrogance of a big capitalist, was approachable, and very generous. But now, when the topic of discussion was no longer him, but Lance, he suddenly felt… how boring his own approach was!

To this moment, no one had noticed him; they had been discussing everything about Lance and the Lance family, his chamber of commerce, and his sponsorship.

He could feel that the Empire District had changed, and the people living in the Empire District had changed. Whether they spoke well of Lance or ill of him, they were all talking about Lance; he had no part in it.

The assistant pushed open the coffee shop door. The cold wind outside swept in with snowflakes.

The gentlemen near the door tightened their clothes, glanced back, and then returned their gaze. Mr. Jobav pressed his hand on his hat and walked out against the wind.

The weather was cold, but people’s hearts didn’t seem cold, except for his.

After returning to the villa, the assistant went to contact Lance, but he soon brought back a not-so-good result. “Lance didn’t agree,” he said truthfully.

Mr. Jobav, who was reading the newspaper, was somewhat surprised. He lowered his head slightly, looking at the assistant through the gap between his forehead and spectacle frame.

“What did he say?” The assistant repeated their conversation—

“I asked him about the chamber of commerce, and he said it was true. Then I said you also wanted to join, and he said he didn’t have any concrete plans for now.”

At this point, Mr. Jobav generally understood. He also understood Lance’s considerations for doing so. Ultimately, although Lance was rapidly rising, in terms of popularity and authority, Mr. Jobav was clearly superior.

At least in the eyes of ordinary people, they would rather trust the banker who managed their money than a family leader. And Mr. Jobav’s standing in these people’s hearts had been built up little by little over many years.

Perhaps they were starting to follow Lance, but in the short term, Lance was still no match for him.

Lance was afraid that if he joined the chamber of commerce, he would instead become its core. Mr. Jobav couldn’t help but smile, but as he smiled, he couldn’t smile anymore.

His expression gradually became calm. “I understand. You may go about your business.” After the assistant left, he turned his head dejectedly to look at the falling snowflakes outside again, silently sighing.

The weather was freezing, and even the police were unwilling to leave the police station. Occasionally, when there was a patrol mission, the old officers would push the work onto the young patrolmen.

This included the Coast Guard, who were too lazy to go out to sea in such terrible weather conditions. The sea was rougher and colder. In this damned weather, there certainly wouldn’t be any smuggling boats or smugglers…

And Lance, rubbing his hands, stood on the boat. They were about twenty nautical miles from the shore. He had arranged with Luigi to deliver the goods here.

Since he had ordered cheap alcohol, it couldn’t be delivered all at once; it would require multiple trips. Considering the two hundred thousand dollar payment and at least forty thousand dollars in profit, Luigi didn’t mind making multiple trips.

Lance had borrowed several boats from Alberto. Alberto hadn’t returned yet; it was said that after Lance left, he continued south to vacation in a place full of beaches and beautiful women, that lucky guy.

And he, however, had to receive goods in this freezing weather. But thinking that this first batch of seventy to eighty thousand dollars worth of alcohol would soon turn into over a hundred thousand, he felt as if he had drunk potato wine, his whole body burning!

“The boat’s here!”

A light suddenly appeared on the hazy sea. Lawn began to control the flickering of a light, which was the signal. Three long, two short; two short, three long; long, long, short, short; short, short, long, long.

“It’s them!”

This signal was known only to Luigi and Lance’s people.

The sound of a diesel engine soon echoed across the sea. Not long after, a transport ship broke through the mist and appeared before them.

When the two ships approached and confirmed each other’s identities, Lance came out of the cabin. The person delivering the goods was Luigi’s trusted subordinate, a man named Samu, whom they had met in Aldera.

The two embraced. Samu seemed very enthusiastic. “Before coming, Mr. Luigi asked me to extend his greetings to you.

He couldn’t come in person due to some important matters, so please forgive him.” This was just polite talk; it could be heard, but not taken seriously.

Which boss would personally risk danger to deliver goods? Lance’s presence this time was only for the first time; next time, he wouldn’t personally come to receive the goods.

He expressed his agreement and appreciation for Mr. Luigi’s thoughts, then had his men start moving the alcohol.

The delivery this time primarily consisted of potato wine and mixed fruit wine. These were what Lance needed most now, nothing else.

Especially potato wine; adding just a little something to it made it a mixed type of alcohol, and one bottle could equal several. At the same time, he also pulled a handbag out of the cabin and opened it in front of Samu. Luigi’s men gasped.

“Sixty-five thousand dollars. Do you need to count it?”

Samu didn’t speak. He casually took out a roll from it. They were all old ten-dollar or twenty-dollar bills, each roll containing fifty bills.

He took some from different parts of the bag, and after confirming they were fine, he simply counted them and zipped it up. The two embraced again. “No problem, you’re very trustworthy, Mr. Lance.”

Lance smiled. The two stood by the window, watching a group of people working on the swaying sea. After about thirty minutes of work, the last box was also loaded back onto the ship. The two shook hands again, embraced, and then parted ways.

Watching Samu’s ship disappear into the mist and snowflakes, Lance’s ship also began to return to the dock.

Before this, Elvin had rented a warehouse at the dock. It was rumored that there might also be alcohol in the surrounding warehouses, so he wasn’t afraid at all. If they were going to die, they’d die together.

Let’s see who dares to investigate! Now, some areas of the dock were minefields. Investigate once, die once—whoever investigates dies! Lance even suspected that a portion of the alcohol he sold to Mr. Pasoretto was also at the dock.

But he didn’t care about these things. In a world shrouded in snow like mist, they successfully returned to port.

All this alcohol was sent to the warehouse, and some went to the workers’ club. It was about to open.

“Are the girls willing to come work?” Lance walked with everyone to the workers’ club. There were still people working on the dock at this time.

They greeted Lance warmly, and Lance responded enthusiastically, without any pretense. This time, he had many people with him, so no one came too close.

Elvin nodded. “I’ve told the girls that Sam and Booker won’t bother them anymore. Some have already returned to work, and some others are willing to work at the club.”

“Also…”

Lance paused and looked at Elvin. Elvin scratched his head. “Didn’t you tell me to find exotic dancers?”

“Some of our own people want to do this.”

“Our own people?”

“We’re only two people!”

Elvin quickly explained, “They’re dancers from the Empire who heard we were hiring and wanted to switch jobs.” “We are quite authoritative in certain fields,” he said, his mouth slightly upturned.

Lance continued to walk forward, and a large group of people also began to move again. “If they are willing, they can come over. This way, we can also take care of them.”

“I still say, don’t force anyone to do what they don’t want to do.”

Elvin nodded. “I understand.” Even if Lance didn’t accept them, they would still do this kind of work, and in other strip clubs or strip bars, they often faced harassment.

Conversely, with Lance, they didn’t have to worry about being bullied, so these dancers hoped to switch over.

“Once the next batch of alcohol arrives, the bar can open, and we might need more dancers then.”

Elvin took note. The workers’ club was basically renovated, with only a little paint smell left to dissipate. Federal houses were mainly of two types: steel structure and wood structure.

Federal houses rarely used paint or latex paint now; most were raw wood, so there was less concern about formaldehyde.

The house was well-renovated, mainly because it was sturdy enough. There would be many entertainment and stress-relieving activities here, and since workers were strong, it definitely needed to be sturdier.

After a tour, Lance nodded in satisfaction. “That’s pretty much it…”

News about the imminent opening of the dockworkers’ club quickly spread throughout the dock. Many workers inquired if there would be cheap alcohol, inexpensive fried chicken, and free breasts and butts to see.

Once they truly integrated, they would realize that these things weren’t really that important!

Of course, before that, Lance still had one thing to do—the Imperial District Branch Bureau Darts Competition! As a sponsor, Lance certainly had to attend.

Some people did similar things but didn’t show up themselves, sending their subordinates. He was puzzled; since they chose to spend money, why didn’t they make the personal connection themselves? He didn’t quite understand it. But he certainly wouldn’t do that.

Since there weren’t many branch police officers, results could be determined in two days.

The darts competition concluded after Director Bruce’s strong competitor, under pressure, accidentally threw his dart off the board, showing annoyance and losing the championship to Bruce.

Bruce wiped the sweat from his face, accepted the cash from Lance’s hand, and received Lance’s praise—what a thrilling match!

(End of this chapter)