Empire of Shadows

The meal lasted for more than two hours, and it was obvious that everyone had drunk too much.

In adversity, the most common thing people do is to reminisce about their glorious past, and memories can become a deadly poison as a result.

The recollection of the past brought out some genuine emotions in all three of them, including Bandi.

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He has indeed had a difficult time recently. Whenever he thinks of the madness of the five major families in the past, he feels a longing to return to those days.

But the past is always just the past. Once he opens his eyes and the alcohol wears off, he returns to reality.

He and the two old guys agreed that they would form an alliance to let the younger generation of gangs know who the master of the Golden Port City's underworld really is.

But what Bandi wants is more than just a show of force to intimidate them.

After watching the two guys leave, he also returned to his car. Gori brought him a hot towel, which he put on his face, and he visibly relaxed a lot.

"Execute the plan…"

Gori nodded, "Yes, I will give the orders immediately."

Only when the conflicts and contradictions are intense enough can he get these people to "fight the tiger" with him.

Although the nightlife in the city center is not as vibrant as in the Starlight District, it is by no means nonexistent.

It's interesting to note that some people in the Federation have been trying hard to deny the existence of class and so-called class solidification, but in reality, everyone can see that class exists.

Even ordinary people at the very bottom of society can see the existence of class at a glance.

Some people, working as families or even clans, spend their entire lives earning less than what some people are born with. To say that these two families belong to the same class would be laughable even to God.

People are well aware of this, so the people of the Federation strictly adhere to the class system and class norms.

For example, the middle class only participates in nightlife in the city center and the Prussia District. They rarely go to the Starlight District because the Starlight District is a place of consumption for the upper-middle class.

Even for the middle class, facing a five-dollar glass of wine can be a bit overwhelming.

As for the Bay Area, they would never go there. That is simply not a place for them to go. Even just driving into the Bay Area would make them feel a faint sense of unease.

The consumption level in the city center and their living area, the Prussia District, is significantly lower. They can afford a one-dollar glass of wine, and spending ten or so dollars a night is not too difficult.

But sometimes, some middle-class people also go to the Imperial District to spend money.

As the security in the Imperial District continues to improve, the price of alcohol is the lowest in Golden Port City. Some middle-class people with lower incomes like it here.

Twenty-five cents for a large glass of beer, then find a place to sit down, eat snacks, watch the strippers work hard and sweat, and chat with friends.

A tip of only one or two dollars a night allows them to experience the fun that would cost seven or eight dollars, or even dozens of dollars, elsewhere, which is equally attractive to them.

Lance has closed some bars, but there are still some bars open, and every night middle-class people come from the city center to spend money.

They are the main consumer group close to the city center bars. For the locals, fifty cents is their limit, but for these people, one or two dollars, two or three dollars a day, is not a problem.

This is also one of the reasons why Lance wants to take over the city center. Once he can do business with the middle class, it means that his income will have a qualitative leap.

Of course, that day is not too far away. His plan is to get rid of the Kodak family and then pull the Pasleito family together to redefine the rules of the game.

Those who obey can continue to make a living in Golden Port City.

Those who don't obey, either get out or die!

At around nine o'clock in the evening, several members of the Lance family were on duty outside the bar. They were responsible for the bar's security, keeping watch, and also responsible for the safety of the bar's guests.

Several young people were gathered together chatting. This kind of work is actually quite boring, standing for at least four hours.

There is no entertainment content, the street is dark, and there are not as many people coming and going as during the day. They can only gather together to smoke and chat.

The bar has been open for a while in the evening, and now is the time when people are arriving. From time to time, some people come from the surrounding alleys and enter the alley where the bar is located.

The safety of the Imperial District has made the nights here less dangerous, and the house prices here have been rising, which is already relatively high in the lower city.

Many people are very much looking forward to the future appreciation potential of house prices. Some people think that it may be the second middle-class area in the future, and the people living here are full of hope for this!

Lance has also heard of this statement, but he does not think that this can really become a reality.

Because there are too many immigrants here.

This is a congenital deficiency. The people of the Federation always say how tolerant they are and are willing to accept people from all over the world, but in fact, they are more xenophobic than those stubborn countries and nations.

Clearly, they are also outsiders, but the first to arrive always exclude the later arrivals, and also despise and discriminate against them.

If the Imperial District wants to become the next middle-class area, unless all the immigrants here move away, otherwise it can only be the Imperial District!

Several white-collar workers from the city center made an appointment after work and came here in the same car. They are regular customers here.

They parked their car across the road and then walked over. At first, they were not very comfortable, but after doing it many times, they also knew that doing so was not actually dangerous.

Just as they got out of the car and were preparing to usher in a happy night, someone suddenly called out to them.

"You can't go there."

Several white-collar workers turned to look at the speaker, a guy who was about thirty years old. They didn't know each other.

"I don't understand, sir."

The white-collar worker who drove looked at his companions, "Is it any of your business where we go?"

The man continued to shake his head and said, "We have our own bars here, you can't go there."

The driver waved his hand, "You should go see a doctor!"

They laughed and prepared to cross the road, but they were stopped by that person.

"I said, you can't go over…"

Several young people across the street frowned when they saw this scene. They saw the appearance of those people under the streetlights, and they recognized them.

"They seem to be in trouble."

Because they were guests of the bar, they were more concerned.

Several young people looked at each other and finally decided to go over and see what was happening.

They crossed the road and came to the sidewalk next to them, "Gentlemen, what happened, is there anything we can do to help you?"

The white-collar workers breathed a sigh of relief. They also knew these young men. He pointed to the person who was stopping them from crossing the road and said, "This person is crazy. He won't let us go over!"

Several young men looked at that person, "These gentlemen are our guests, you better go harass someone else!"

The young man who spoke lifted his clothes, revealing the holster inside.

But the troublemaker was very tough, "You bunch of fucking idiots who don't know where you smuggled in from, shut your stinking mouths. This ain't your fucking country where you can't afford clothes, get the fuck out of our country's land!"

"Also, this is fucking our territory, you're trespassing!"

"Don't fucking show me your dick, that little dick doesn't scare me!"

At first, they hadn't reacted, but when the other party said the word "territory", they reacted.

"Fuck, this is the Imperial District!"

Looking at the map, the rough dividing line between the Imperial District and the city center happened to cover this road.

You can say that this is the Imperial District, or you can say that this is the city center. It doesn't have a very clear dividing line.

Many people came out of the surrounding shadows, all carrying weapons in their hands, hot weapons, the kind that can bang.

The young men, who were clearly at a disadvantage, took a few steps back. They were indeed a little scared, but Lance also said that when facing a life-threatening situation, temporarily choosing to back down is not a sign of cowardice.

As long as you can regain your face, it is a smart choice.

They planned to retreat to the other side of the road and then call for help, but the other party obviously didn't intend to give them this opportunity. With many dark gun muzzles pointing at them, they could only raise their hands.

The guy who appeared first came to them and pulled out the weapons from the holsters in their arms and handed them to the people behind him.

He slapped the cheeks of the young man standing in front of him with his palm, "You were very fucking arrogant just now, you know that?"

The young man looked at him with his head slightly tilted, "You are provoking a war!"

"War?"

The man's tone rose slightly, and he couldn't help but laugh. He turned around and looked at the people behind him, as if he had heard a very funny joke, "He said I'm fucking provoking a war!"

The people behind him also laughed, as if it was indeed very funny.

He turned around and suddenly punched the young man in front of him in the stomach. This punch was heavy and ruthless, and it directly made the young man bend over and unable to straighten his back while clutching his stomach.

He took a step back, tiptoed and suddenly raised his knee, and the young man flipped backwards to the ground. Then those people rushed over and pressed these young men to the ground and beat them hard.

Leather shoes with shoe palms of all sizes kicked them in the head and body. The young men kept making muffled groans, but no one begged for mercy.

After fighting for three or four minutes, the men stopped, panting. The first one, with his tongue half-out, pressed it against the corner of his mouth, and while catching his breath, he grabbed his collar and shook it. Then, he spat a mouthful of saliva on one of the others.

"Next time you dare come to our turf, I'll kill you!"

"Let's go!"

The white-collar workers were so frightened that they stood rooted to the spot, only able to watch them leave…

A dozen or so minutes later, seven or eight cars screeched to a halt at the side of the road, leaving faint skid marks on the ground.

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Allen got out of the car and looked at the young men who were leaning against the lamppost, covered in blood from the beating. He reached out and smoothed back his hair.

He paced back and forth a few steps, then suddenly took a running start and kicked the trash can on the side of the road, sending it flying!

"Who did this?"

He was in charge of this bar now, and these people were his men. Since joining the Lance family, he had never suffered such a loss!

One of the young men, while wiping the blood from his head, said, "They said this is their territory, and they told us to get out of their territory…"

"F***!" Allen cursed. "Send them to the hospital."

He walked to the phone booth on the side of the road and dialed Lance's number.

After all, a cross-district fight was something that Lance needed to know about.

The call was quickly answered, and Allen briefly explained the situation. Lance frowned as he listened.

"Sounds a bit strange," he said, sitting on the sofa with others around him.

But he quickly frowned again, because Fegal had said he wanted to mediate in the afternoon, and he had refused. Now, this kind of thing happened tonight.

Although he found it odd, maybe Fegal really wasn't thinking straight?

He was silent for a moment, then lit a cigarette.

He was weighing the pros and cons in his mind.

In fact, no matter how the Coda family dealt with it, he would eventually take the city center. Even if there were other problems, the city center had to be in his hands.

And the city center was mainly the territory of the Keane family. In other words, there was an irreconcilable contradiction between him and Fegal, and they would have to fight sooner or later.

Now that he was dealing with the Coda family, would Bandi seek reinforcements?

He thought it was possible. After all, the five families were seen as one by many people, and Lance believed that their continued growth would definitely arouse Fegal's vigilance and dissatisfaction.

Maybe they had already colluded together.

In any case, he would inevitably have to fight Fegal eventually, so did he need to endure now?

He asked himself.

In terms of hard power, he was not afraid of these people at all. There were plenty of refugees willing to pick up a gun and risk their lives to survive.

Not to mention that more imperial and illegal immigrants were coming here. He didn't worry about not finding people to fight for him.

In terms of soft power, Blue had firmly controlled the police station, and with the help of the state prosecutor's office, all opposition had been purged.

With the power of the police station, he could beat Fegal's people until they couldn't fight back.

Not to mention there was also a hidden Ponda.

He wasn't afraid of these people ganging up, so why should he endure?

He smoked half a cigarette, then put it out in the ashtray. "Fight, fight hard! I'll arrange for people to go and support you!"

Allen pursed his lips after hearing this. He was a little touched, because as a "captain," he had to be responsible for his men.

Directly crossing districts to take action would obviously affect Lance's pace, but he still supported him.

This made him feel the warmth of a family and the care of a brother.

He nodded vigorously. "Okay, I'll wait for you."

Lance hung up the phone, and Hiram immediately raised his hand. "Me, me, me, me, me!"

Lance rolled his eyes and looked away from him. He jumped in front of Lance, blocking his view. "I, I can't sleep at night, so I might as well go out and get some exercise!"

Everyone else laughed and watched him. Lance finally had to agree. "Okay, be careful."

Hiram thumped his chest. "They should be careful, not me!"

A dozen or so minutes later, seven or eight more cars arrived, along with four vans.

They knew the location of the Fegal family's bar, because there was a high degree of overlap between their customers, plus some other factors, so both sides knew the location of the bars in the border area.

The group drove directly to the outside of the bar. A few people who were standing guard outside the bar hadn't even reacted to the arrival of so many cars when Hiram leaned out of the car window, holding his personal submachine gun, grinning and saying, "Good evening, motherf***er!"

The submachine gun rattled in an instant, and the flames from the muzzle instantly illuminated a few panicked faces.

At the same time, the gunshots alarmed the guests in the bar who were enjoying their nightlife. They screamed, bent over, and quickly left through the exits.

More than a dozen of the bar's security guards came out with guns, but were forced back by a barrage of bullets.

Although Hiram didn't quite understand why their resistance was so weak, but… who cares!

A dozen or so minutes later, he finally felt comfortable. He looked back at the burning bar one last time, then got into the car.

The vehicles parked around the bar left quickly and orderly, leaving only a raging fire!

At more than ten o'clock in the evening, Fegal, who had been asleep for a while, was shaken awake. He squinted his eyes, turned on the bedside lamp, and looked at the person at the head of the bed with an unaccustomed and irritable expression. "What's so important that you had to wake me up now?"

He was still a little drunk, and his head was pounding from being woken up.

He glanced at the clock on the bedside table. "It's only ten o'clock, are you crazy?!"

But the person next to the bed wasn't crazy. He said with a grave expression, "Our bar was smashed and set on fire."

Fegal was stunned for a moment, and his eyes became clearer. He seemed not to understand what the person in front of him was saying.

After several seconds, he finally reacted. "Who the hell did it?"

"I don't know…"

"F***, which bar?" Fegal sat up, rubbed his cheeks, and tried to clear his head.

"The bar… on the other side of the road."

Hearing this location, his expression became slightly strange. "The one right next to the Imperial District?"

For some inexplicable reason, a face appeared in his mind: Lance!

"Yes, Boss."

He leaned against the headboard and thought for a while. "Investigate. There can't be no clues at all. Find out!"

More than a dozen cars acting so blatantly at night would definitely have some witnesses. It wasn't long before he knew the truth: Lance had done it.

He immediately called Lance and cursed at him, "Were you oxygen-deprived when you were born?"

"Why the hell did you burn down my bar for no reason?"

"I'm telling you, you think you're so great, but that's only because you haven't met anyone really powerful. You're in trouble, Lance. You're in big trouble!"

"If you can't give me an explanation, then I'll give you one!"

"You son of a b****, f*** you!"