Empire of Shadows

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Another incident?

Mr. Anderson was first stunned, but then he shuddered, his eyebrows shooting up. "Is that bastard back again?"

The manager knew who he was talking about, but quickly shook his head, "It's not him. I don't know how to explain it. You'll understand when you see it!"

Mr. Anderson took off his apron and strode towards the front hall. When he stood at the entrance of the front hall, he was completely… stunned!

The restaurant was already full, but the problem was that there was only one person at each table, and these people ordered at most three dollars' worth of food. Many of them only ordered two dollars' worth.

A piece of bread, an appetizer, or a bowl of soup.

"I thought they would leave soon, so I didn't notify you, but who would have thought that they wouldn't leave after they came."

"Many customers outside have left because there are no empty tables, and these people are unwilling to leave. They all say they haven't eaten enough and refuse to share tables."

Mr. Anderson's blood pressure was rising rapidly. There were seventeen tables here, which meant that today's lunch revenue would be less than forty dollars!

You should know that the restaurant's daily expenses exceed one hundred and fifty dollars. In other words, even if the restaurant is packed tonight, there will be no income today. Instead, it will suffer a large loss!

His temples throbbed again. That familiar feeling returned. He suppressed his anger and roared in a low voice, "Call the police, call the police immediately! I want the police to send all this trash to the junkyard!"

Mr. Anderson is considered a minor celebrity in this area. He is a very good chef. It is said that the former mayor ate the dishes he made when he was the head chef at another restaurant and praised him in public.

In the Federation, the celebrity effect is particularly obvious and important. It was because the former mayor believed that his cooking skills were enough for him to run a restaurant himself that he had the idea of going it alone.

This is also one of the reasons why he later came out to open his own restaurant. Even someone like the mayor, who has eaten so many delicious delicacies, thinks that his food is delicious, so what does he have to worry about?

People with skills are respected everywhere, whether it is cooking dishes or lying down and sticking out their butts.

Soon the police car arrived, two cars in total, with four police officers.

They were a little nervous at first. When Mr. Anderson called the police, he was in an unstable emotional state. Besides swearing, he was talking incoherently. They thought there had been an attack here.

But after coming in, they found that it was so quiet that they could hear their own breathing.

"Mr. Anderson, you said that someone is affecting your business?"

"Where is that person?"

"Did you see him running over there?"

Mr. Anderson suppressed his anger and pointed to the people at the tables, saying, "Isn't that them?"

"They are working together to prevent me from doing business. Arrest them all! No one is innocent!"

The police looked at the young people who were quietly eating bread, although each bite was very small, but they were indeed eating. They were a little confused for a moment, "Didn't they pay?"

The manager told the truth, "They already paid."

"Then did they cause trouble?"

The manager still told the truth, "They are all sitting at the table eating honestly."

The police suddenly became a little unhappy, and naturally put their hands on the belt around their waists, "So you called the police to amuse us?"

Mr. Anderson took a deep breath. He had already straightened out the relationship, "These people order two dollars' worth of food and sit there without leaving, preventing other customers from coming in. Isn't this causing trouble?"

The police were stunned for a while, "They asked for food and also paid. Why do you require them to finish eating within a specified time?"

"Do you have this regulation and show it to everyone who comes in?"

Mr. Anderson was very annoyed, "Then I can't do anything about these scumbags?"

The police looked at these young people, adjusted their caps, "It seems so, Mr. Anderson."

"They didn't commit a crime, nor did they refuse to pay the cost of the meal. They just ate a little slowly. There is no law that requires me to arrest people who eat slowly."

"So…"

He shook his head, "I can't do anything about this, Mr. Anderson."

"And I must remind you that if you drive them out before they finish eating, you may be in trouble."

He pulled Mr. Anderson to the corner, "I can help you try to scare them, it may not work, but it may also work."

"But the risk is great. If the branch office knows that I didn't follow the manual, they will make trouble for me."

After speaking, he stared straight at Mr. Anderson. If the police in Gold Harbor City only pinned their hopes on the pitiful salary they received each month, they might not even be able to eat enough.

Mr. Anderson had seen this kind of greedy gaze on many people. He cursed everything here in his heart!

But he still took out two five-dollar bills from his pocket and placed them in the police officer's hand at an angle where people couldn't see.

"Not enough, we came in two cars."

Mr. Anderson looked into his eyes. The two stared at each other without giving in for about four or five seconds. Mr. Anderson took out another ten dollars.

The police officer finally showed a satisfied smile, "Even if they punish me for violating the procedure, I believe my family will not starve because of it. You are a good person, Mr. Anderson!"

As he spoke, he adjusted his police cap and walked towards the nearest table.

That was a young man who looked only nineteen years old. He was a little frightened, but thinking about what Lance had told them before, even if he felt scared, he still maintained relative calmness.

The police officer sat next to him and looked at him with an aggressive gaze, "Do you know other people?"

The young man shook his head, "I don't know."

"Actually, I know who sent you here. If you don't want to spend some time in jail, you better tell me the truth."

The young man bit his lip and didn't speak. On the contrary, he wasn't so afraid anymore, because Lance had told them about these words, what they would encounter, and how to deal with them.

Looking at this young man who was obviously a little scared but still maintained calmness and silence, the police officer's face became a little hot.

"Are you an Imperial citizen?"

"Yes."

"Take out your permanent residence card. I think you are an illegal immigrant…"

Who the hell would carry this with them every day?

But this young man took out his permanent residence card. Looking at the card, the police officer was a little confused, but he immediately realized that this was indeed organized.

In fact, at this time, he was a little unwilling to care anymore. Who knew how big the matter behind this involved, but he had received the money, so he had to do something about it.

"This card… may be fake. I need you to leave with me."

He came up with a good idea, taking one person away, and he wouldn't care about the others. This would both account for the twenty dollars and not disrupt other people's plans.

The young man didn't feel scared because of this. On the contrary, he relaxed his emotions and tense nerves, "Do you have a summons or an arrest warrant?"

"Also, if you insist on letting me leave with you, I want to call my lawyer first."

The police officer's originally relaxed smile disappeared from his face. He put the card back on the table, pointed at the young man, and then stood up, holding his belt.

This also made the young man and other young people breathe a sigh of relief.

Without a summons or arrest warrant, and not being discovered and stopped while a crime was in progress, then this would be a violation of procedure.

The consequences of violating the procedure can be very light, a verbal apology, but it can also be very serious, losing a job.

The police officer didn't dare to gamble. Who knew if the person behind the organization of these young people would make a big deal out of this.

He walked back to Mr. Anderson and said softly, "Look, they came prepared. My suggestion is that you better close the store now, if you can close it."

Without waiting for Mr. Anderson to say anything, he walked out of the restaurant with the other three police officers with a cold face.

Outside the restaurant, although he was upset, he still gave the other two police officers five dollars, at least it wasn't a wasted trip.

As for the remaining fifteen, he would give his partner five dollars and then pocket ten dollars for himself.

The police officers left quickly. Those young people who were originally a little nervous were now completely relieved. Everyone's face showed a heartfelt smile.

Wasn't this too easy to make money?

Besides being a little boring.

Seeing that the police were useless, Mr. Anderson swept across the seventeen tables and finally came to Ennio's opposite and sat down.

He felt that Ennio looked like he should be the small leader of this group of people. He had the temperament that only a small leader has.

"I don't know if you are their leader. I will give you all a free meal and then give you fifty dollars. You take your people and get out of my restaurant."

Ennio was currently opening the door to a new world because of this strange job. It was impossible for him to agree to this condition, and the offer was too low.

He glanced sideways at Anderson, picked up a small piece of bread, wiped some sauce along the edge of the appetizer dish, stuffed it into his mouth and ate it in a few bites, "I don't know what you are talking about, Mr. Anderson."

This lukewarm attitude made Mr. Anderson even more annoyed, "You already know who I am, and you still don't know what I'm talking about?"

"Is it Alberto, that bastard, who sent you here?"

"Or that little bastard I met the day before yesterday?"

"You sons of bitches won't have a good end!"

Ennio waited until he was almost done cursing before saying, "Finished?"

"If you're finished, I'll continue with my meal. Also, Mr. Anderson, although you're the owner here, you've disturbed my meal and insulted me. I reserve the right to pursue legal action against you for insulting me."

Mr. Anderson glared at him, wanting to bore a hole through him, but in the end, he could only slam his hand on the table in frustration.

In the afternoon, these people still hadn't left. Mr. Anderson called the police again, and the police gave the same response, but this time they didn't ask him for money.

You didn't say they couldn't eat until the afternoon before they started eating. If you kick them out now, you might get sued.

Moreover, the policeman very thoughtfully helped him analyze the situation, "If someone is really organizing a disturbance, do you think they would want you to actively sue them?"

With just one sentence, Mr. Anderson lost his temper.

He even called a lawyer, and after the lawyer came and looked, he told him that the best way now was to wait until closing time.

Currently, the conflict between immigrants and locals is quite fierce. If this matter is seen as locals indiscriminately "firing" at immigrants, his restaurant might not be able to continue operating in Gold Harbour City, and he himself might not even have room to survive here.

Only tomorrow, when he writes the regulations for dining time and the rules for mandatory shared tables on the notice board and places it outside the restaurant, will he have the right to evict these people.

But for now, he must endure it.

After paying the lawyer a sixty-dollar consultation fee, Mr. Anderson hated these people to death, as well as Lance, and that Alberto!

It continued until after eight o'clock in the evening, when the entire bay area began to quiet down. These people, who had been sitting all day and were already very tired, finished their day-long meal and left simultaneously, as if by tacit agreement.

Mr. Anderson walked from the back kitchen to the door and saw a scene that almost made his eyeballs pop out!

Right across the street, Lance, in front of him, shook hands and hugged these young people and put five dollars into their hands!

That son of a bitch, he knew it, it was that son of a bitch who did it!

He strode over, but then he thought of something and stopped. Now it was late at night, and late at night meant danger. Who knew if these young people across the street would do something drastic.

After Lance leisurely finished giving the money to these people and had them take the last bus, he walked over with his hands in his pockets.

Ethan and Alvin were behind him.

Seeing Lance's blatant provocation, Mr. Anderson's blood pressure soared, and even at night, it was clear that his face was flushed!

"You think I'll compromise?"

"You bitch-born little bastard!"

He almost pointed his finger at Lance's nose and roared, "I will never compromise! You, and that boss of yours, Alberto, don't even think about getting a single cent from me!"

Lance didn't take these insults to heart, after all, he always believed that everyone must pay the price or reap the rewards for what they have done.

"Mr. Anderson, you don't think this is the end, do you?"

"Honestly, I have thousands of ways to give you a different one every day. If your wish is to make your restaurant and you unable to stay in Gold Harbour City because of that five thousand dollars, we can continue to try."

"Speaking of which, are you already looking forward to tomorrow's challenge?"

"Guess what I'll do this time?"

He shook his head with a smile, looking at Mr. Anderson with a confident look, as if he were looking at a loser...