Empire of Shadows

The wheels slowly came to a stop, pressing some of the dust that had just been disturbed and hadn't had time to rise back under the wheels, the dust settling before it even stirred.

This car, worth only two or three hundred dollars, stopped in the alley diagonally across from the casino. Lance left his pistol in the car, unsure if they would conduct a body search. If he carried it on him, it would be useless and might even "benefit the enemy."

He placed the pistol in the toolbox between the driver's seat and the passenger seat, while the dagger was tucked under his belt at the small of his back—a folding knife.

Generally, people only search the upper body, pants pockets, and legs during a body search. Other areas are not as easily checked.

After doing this, he told Morris to stay in the car, "If I don't come out within thirty minutes, call this number and have them come look for me."

"But there's a high probability you won't need this number."

It was Alberto's number.

Initially, he refused Fordyce's help because he didn't want to continue owing favors, but if his life was truly in danger, he would have to incur the debt.

Besides, he didn't think this trip would be life-threatening. Take the risk of murder and being wanted for a few young people who don't understand anything?

This wasn't the Wild West, where you could just hide in the mountains and be safe.

In the city, not only would the police be looking for them, but gang members and even professional bounty hunters would be after them!

The Federation has a special group of people who call themselves "bounty hunters." Their job is to capture criminals with bounties on their heads to earn rewards.

They first appeared in the western regions, but gradually spread throughout the Federation. As long as there's a bounty, you're sure to see them.

The bounty orders frequently issued by federal law enforcement agencies are actually prepared specifically for them, because sometimes directly offering a reward can save a lot of financial expenditure compared to the police costs of finding a suspect.

Of course, the most important thing was that he had money. No one would refuse money, and money was Lance's confidence.

Morris nodded and sat obediently in the car. Lance crossed the road and came to the wooden door at the back of the building, knocking on it.

The person inside opened the peephole and looked at him, their wary eyes full of suspicion, "Are you the person we're waiting for?"

Lance stood there openly, "If I haven't come to the wrong place, then I am the person you're waiting for!"

The door was opened, and a burly man looked at him. Lance was only wearing a dark shirt, and there didn't seem to be anywhere to hide a weapon, but he still requested a body search.

After a simple search, Lance was allowed in, "Go straight down here, the room with the light on is the one, the boss is waiting for you!"

Lance nodded slightly and calmly walked down the steps.

In the room, Ennio and the other young men were being forced to kneel on the ground, pinching their ears. Ennio's radius bone in his left arm was broken, so it just hung there.

Behind them, someone was holding a stick, and anyone who let go would be hit.

At first, everyone thought… this wasn't an unbearable punishment, but after a few minutes, ten minutes later, they couldn't take it anymore.

So, between the aching muscles in their arms and the pain of having their ears pulled, they had to choose one. Most people chose the latter because even if they persevered, their arms would eventually lose strength and pull on their ears.

The young men were all grimacing, looking very uncomfortable. It should have been a serious atmosphere, but this scene was indeed a little amusing.

When Lance walked in and saw this scene, he couldn't help but laugh, "Sorry."

"Funny?" the casino boss asked, straddling a chair backwards, resting his chin on his hands on the backrest.

Lance nodded, "It's the first time I've seen this kind of approach, it's quite interesting," he said, asking, "Mind if I have a cigarette?"

The casino boss scrutinized him for a moment, "Be my guest," then looked at the henchman beside him, "Get our guest a chair." At the same time, he also got up and turned the chair around to face Lance.

After saying "Thank you," Lance sat down in the chair, lit a cigarette, "So…"

Looking at Lance's composure, which didn't seem feigned, the casino boss suddenly didn't know what to do.

His original idea was to see the quality of this financial company. If it was one with considerable strength, then he would do them a favor and make it a real one.

Golden Port City wasn't too big or too small. You never knew when the two sides might have the opportunity to interact.

If the other party wasn't strong, then he would extort them, because he was in the right in this matter.

But now, judging from Lance's performance, he couldn't figure out whether this financial company was strong or weak.

At this point, he could only try to feel out the situation, "Every place has its own rules. Your people came to my casino to lend money at high interest rates, but they didn't say hello to me. This is your fault."

The normal practice was for them to negotiate first, then agree on the distribution of profits. Casinos often require 20% to 30% of the benefits before these moneylenders can enter.

Ennio and the others hadn't done anything and just came in to lend money, which broke this tacit rule.

This was indeed their mistake. Lance felt that he might also have some responsibility for not telling them what they could and couldn't do.

So he nodded directly, "You're right, it's my problem. You can call me Lance, what should I call you?"

The casino boss pursed his lips, "Kent."

"Okay, Mr. Kent, then what do you need to let me take them away?"

Kent looked at Lance for about two minutes. His expression didn't seem to change, but his eyes were constantly changing, intertwined with caution, prudence, greed, and desire.

He was observing Lance. To be honest, this young man didn't look like someone who walked on the gray fringes of society at all. He didn't have the viciousness of those financial company bosses, nor did he seem like a sinister person. Instead, he seemed as harmless as a college student.

Clean clothes and a clean smile could give people a good impression, but in this place, these expressions would only be regarded as a sign of weakness or a lack of confidence.

His gaze wandered over Lance's body. This suit wasn't cheap. He licked his lips, "Um… fifteen… hundred dollars to take them away."

He asked for a very high price. At first, he only wanted five hundred dollars, but he wanted to know if this Lance could give him the money, or see if there was a chance to get even more.

If he didn't ask, there would definitely be no chance, but if he did, there might be.

Lance raised his eyebrows, saying as if joking, "Fifteen hundred dollars, that's not cheap, Mr. Kent."

"If it were illegal immigrants, fifteen hundred dollars would be enough to buy several lives, but you're just letting me take them away from here."

"Maybe we can be friends?"

Kent looked at him, also hearing the vague threat hidden in his words. His expression changed slightly, "Are you threatening me?"

"No, I'm just lamenting that you've offered a price that's hard to accept."

Kent reiterated his position, "Your people did something wrong, in my casino!"

"If you want to be friends with me, no problem, but it has to be after I get the money!"

His voice was a little loud, and several henchmen had already approached Lance from behind. They could pin Lance to the ground with just Kent's order.

Feeling these people approaching, Lance still didn't show any panic.

When a person encounters a vicious dog on the road, the best way is to leave quietly, not to run.

Running will attract the dog's pursuit, and instinct will make them attack you in the process.

People are actually the same. At this time, as long as Lance showed panic or unease, Kent would have people grab him and then "attack" him.

Conversely, if he behaved calmly, Kent would instead be unsure if he had any trump cards.

Kent looked around, suddenly seeming to notice something, "Where's Morris?" He looked at the burly man standing at the stairs.

The latter shook his head and replied, "I didn't see him, only this gentleman came over."

Kent had some guesses in his mind, and his tone softened slightly, "My father told me since I was a child that if you make a mistake, you must be brave enough to take responsibility. This is your responsibility, Mr. Lance."

"Fifteen hundred dollars, or…" He turned his head and glanced at the few people kneeling in the corner, "I'll break their legs, and then you can take them away."

"In Golden Port City, no one can say I did wrong."

Lance turned his head and glanced at Ennio and the others. Their eyes were a little shifty, probably feeling… it was embarrassing to be caught and beaten, and they had also given up Lance, and now Lance even had to pay to save them.

"Lance, don't…" Ennio wanted Lance to ignore them, but was knocked to the ground with a stick.

Two burly men went up and started swinging, and soon he was lying on the ground with only screams left, and he became honest.

Kent was observing Lance and didn't observe any pity, compassion, or other emotions on his face. He raised his hand, and the two burly men exhaled a breath of foul air and stood back in place.

Lance turned back at this time, his face full of smiles, like the kind of smile you have when you encounter something good. He nodded slightly and repeated the number, "Fifteen hundred dollars."

After a few seconds, he asked, "Check or cash?"

Kent also laughed, laughing loudly. He took out the cigar that was only a third left, lit it, and took a puff.

Whenever something made him unhappy, or happy for that matter, he'd take a few puffs.

"You're a smart man, Lance!"

"Cheques are a hassle for us."

"Cash it is!"