Empire of Shadows

The wailing sirens of police cars weren't a common sound on the streets of Xilin District. It was mostly populated by elderly people who weren't wealthy, offering little to steal or rob.

Moreover, it was a typical residential area. Although there were shops on the streets, if you demanded too much money from them, say, more than twenty dollars, they might choose to close and relocate.

For the elderly in the Federation, entering their so-called 'twilight years' meant losing their ability to earn money.

Without the ability to earn, how could they have purchasing power?

With little purchasing power, the shops' profits were naturally low, and the治安 (zhì ān, public security/order) here was relatively better.

It wasn't that the crime rate in this district was low, but that violent crimes were rare. Sometimes, elderly residents would find strangers in their homes, but after a quick search, finding nothing worth stealing, they would leave. The residents wouldn't make a fuss, pretending nothing had happened.

So, when two police cars parked there, and a forensic doctor was also present, people's curiosity was amplified infinitely.

They gathered nearby, wanting to see what had happened.

A few minutes later, a gray car arrived, and Officer Hunt got out.

He slipped his badge into his chest pocket, lifted the police tape, and ducked under.

As he walked, he put on gloves. When he entered the ground floor of the small two-story building, he smelled a fishy, rotten stench.

The fishy, rotten smell of blood. Although it was already November, the weather hadn't completely cooled down. This was a subtropical area, not far from the tropics, and the temperature was still around twenty-seven or twenty-eight degrees, much better than before.

But even this temperature allowed bacteria to multiply rapidly. The viscous blood was rich in various nutrients, a favorite of all bacteria.

Reaching the stairs, the smell intensified. He covered his mouth and nose and went up to the second floor, where several police officers stood outside a room.

The forensic doctor came out of the room just as Officer Hunt arrived.

The city police department had four criminal investigation teams, and it was Officer Hunt's turn to be in charge. He knew the forensic doctor; they were acquaintances.

"What's the situation?" he asked, approaching. He wanted to shake the forensic doctor's hand, but seeing the bloodstains on his gloves, he gave up.

The forensic doctor, removing his gloves, said, "Gangland revenge killing, an honor killing. Probably done by the Brotherhood."

Each gang had its own unique honor killing style. This strong style was like telling others why they died.

Not only did the Federation's legislators have problems with their brains, but the gangs did too. Some gang hitmen, after executing those who offended them, would write songs or short stories about the execution process and spread them everywhere, as if afraid others wouldn't know they did it.

And these songs and short stories eventually became important evidence to bring them to justice.

Hearing this, Hunt basically had no further questions about the case. He walked to the bedroom door. The deceased was kneeling on the ground, hands behind his back, tied together with wire, the other end hanging from the ceiling.

This forced his body to lean forward to keep his arms from breaking, creating a pose that looked like he was admitting guilt.

Officer Hunt squatted down, one hand on the ground, looking at his face and body. Blood dripped from his mouth and nose, and there were obvious cuts on his chest, with a dagger visible in his heart.

At this moment, the forensic doctor walked over and stood beside Officer Hunt. "Cause of death is a ruptured heart."

"He was tortured before death, a typical Brotherhood method."

Officer Hunt's face was flushed from squatting. He stood up and clapped his hands. "Do we have his identity information?"

The forensic doctor shook his head. "That's not my job. My job is to tell you how he died and whether he did anything else before death."

"The rest is your job."

Soon, Hunt left with some evidence. It wasn't difficult to figure out the young man's identity.

He directly checked the residence registration information. The house was registered in the name of Mr. Chobaf's assistant, and this person, through a comparison of identity information, directly matched the homeowner's nephew.

Before noon, the phone connected to Mr. Chobaf's assistant. "This is the Criminal Investigation Team of Jingang City Police Department. I'm Hunt, the leader of Team Two."

"I have some very regrettable and sad news to inform you. Your nephew died in a house you own in Xilin District."

"We have a procedure for claiming bodies here. We hope you or other relatives can come over."

"If his body isn't handled for a long time, we may donate it to a medical university or medical institution…"

In less than half an hour, three luxury cars parked in the parking lot of the city police department.

Mr. Chobaf hired professional security guards, costing four hundred dollars per person per month.

They legally carried guns and would fire when necessary, even taking bullets for him. These people were very professional.

As for whether it was true or not, Mr. Chobaf himself didn't know, because some security companies went bankrupt or changed their names every year, but at least so far, he hadn't heard anyone say their service was bad.

He personally accompanied the assistant here, took a form, and then went to the morgue.

Officer Hunt pulled out one of the compartments from a freezer. The assistant's nephew lay inside, his face bloodless.

His body had been dissected, and to avoid making a mess during the dissection, his blood had been drained, which was why his face was so pale.

Seeing his nephew's eyes closed forever, and even more despairingly, the address was something he had told him. He felt an indescribable pain and hatred.

He almost couldn't stand, and Mr. Chobaf held him up.

After they vented their emotions for a while, Officer Hunt took the form and asked them to sign it. "If this is someone you know, sign here."

"Also, we suspect he died in a gangland revenge killing. Do you have any clues you can provide to us?"

"This will help us solve the case faster."

Mr. Chobaf's assistant stroked his nephew's cheek, still not recovered from the pain of losing a loved one.

After a while, Officer Hunt asked again, and he turned to look at him, "No, can we… can we have you drop the case?"

"I want to send him home."

"And I don't want to dwell on this matter anymore. It should all end."

Hearing the old man's despairing words, Officer Hunt could only sigh heavily. "This is a criminal case. Whether you pursue the responsibility of the murderer or not, we will initiate the homicide investigation mechanism and pursue it."

"So…"

Mr. Chobaf patted the assistant's back. "I'll talk to him."

Officer Hunt glanced at them. The two walked outside the morgue.

Mr. Chobaf gave him a cigarette. Although his life experience prevented him from feeling like vomiting, he was certainly uncomfortable.

At this time, a cigarette could help him relieve the discomfort of seeing a dead person up close.

"Officer Hunt, you should be able to see why he died."

Officer Hunt didn't show any bias but said, "I don't understand."

Whether he really didn't understand or pretended not to understand, Mr. Chobaf continued, "We are just ordinary businessmen, with no gang background. We can't afford to offend them."

"Someone has already learned a painful lesson because of this. It's time to stop."

"No matter what, this matter ends here. We will not pursue the responsibility of the murderer, nor will we pursue your responsibility. Let everything pass."

"This is a request from two old men to you!"

Officer Hunt stood for a while, took several puffs of the cigarette, and then nodded slightly, saying, "If that's what you wish."

Mr. Chobaf forced a smile, extended his hand, and shook hands with Officer Hunt. "Thank you!"

Soon they left. According to their wishes, the assistant's nephew's body would be cremated soon, and then the ashes would be sent back to the Empire.

Officer Hunt returned to his office, sat and smoked for a while, then got up and walked to the window, looking at the officers working outside through the blinds, and then adjusted the blinds so that the outside couldn't see inside.

He closed the door, walked back to the desk, and dialed Polly's phone.

"You better give me a reason why you're calling me now…"

Before Polly could finish, Officer Hunt interrupted him, "Do I need to give you a reason?"

After two seconds, perhaps he was thinking about who his mother was and finally realized, he laughed and said, "Officer Hunt, is there anything good you need me to take care of?"

Hunt hummed twice. "What did your people do in Xilin District last night?"

Polly looked at the girl beside him, who was a little at a loss, and signaled her to continue.

"Did you see that punishment?"

"I had some disputes with that guy's boss. Some time ago, he arranged for someone to assassinate Jimmy. Jimmy was lucky and escaped. Now, the result of our deal is to use him as the price to end this dispute."

"There's more than one murderer, Hunt!"

The "murderer" Polly spoke of was not the person who actually killed the assistant's nephew, but everyone involved in the matter, including Mr. Chobaf himself, his assistant, Polly, Jimmy—these people were all murderers!

"Don't let me catch you!" Hunt warned.

Polly didn't care about such threats at all. "I'll believe it when you catch me. Let's hang out and play ball sometime. I still need to take care of my physiological needs. Talk to you later."

That evening, Officer Hunter mentioned this matter to Officer Lucar during a casual chat. This incident, from the side, also deepened Officer Lucar's desire for greater power.

Every day, in this city, throughout the Federation, countless criminals commit crimes.

But as law enforcement officers, they are often unable to bring criminals to justice for various reasons. This is the sorrow of law enforcement officers and the sorrow of the Federal judicial system.

His conversation with Chief Charlie made him suddenly realize that only by standing higher can he bear more responsibility and possess true law enforcement power!

In the following days, Officer Lucar kept people watching Lance, but he never found any flaws. He also realized that if he hadn't been able to stop those cars riddled with bullet holes and bullets at the scene, he would have lost the last chance to arrest Lance. This made him quickly withdraw the people who were watching Lance.

Because it no longer had any practical significance. Watching him would not only have no effect but would also fuel some of his arrogance.

After these stalking police officers disappeared, Lance took the initiative to bring some gifts to visit Mr. Pasreito, Alberto's boss.

The Sumuli District is located east of the Xilin District, close to the Bay Area. About 100,000 Sumuli people live here.

In addition to these Sumuli people, there are, of course, many Federal people and immigrants from other regions, but overall, the Sumuli people are the most numerous here, and the Sumuli atmosphere is also stronger.

Groups of three or five men sit together by the roadside around tables, sipping coffee from small cups, eating pastries, playing cards, or doing something else.

Their clothing is different from the Federal style, looking more refined.

These people maintain their decency and appearance. Even a poor person will make themselves look less sloppy and dirty.

The Pasreito family's headquarters is located in a quiet manor on the far east side. As soon as you enter the gate, you can see a large fountain.

At least thirty or forty cars are parked on both sides of the fountain, maybe more.

Alberto's car was parked not far from the entrance. After he and Alberto got out, Fordis drove the car away instead of parking it here.

The two entered the room, and every Sumuli person looked at Lance with scrutinizing eyes, as if trying to see right through him.

Alberto kept greeting those people, showing that he was very familiar with them.

These Sumuli people are very united in the Federation. Native Federal people don't like to bully them because if you bully one person, they will retaliate twice as hard.

This has allowed the Sumuli people to quickly gain a foothold in the Federation.

They came to a large room where the situation was very interesting. Everyone seemed to be lining up to see Mr. Pasreito.

He was in the room at the deepest part of the hall. Every time a few people went in, the door would close, and then after waiting for a while, those people would leave, thanking the people inside or doing something else.

Then the next wave of people would go in.

"Mr. Pasreito seems to be very respected," Lance said softly.

Alberto agreed with his point of view. "Mr. Pasreito is one of the three driving forces of the Sumuli people in the Federation. We all regard them as our leaders!"

Three Sumuli people are the spiritual leaders of the Sumuli immigrants in the Federation, which sounds like they are not to be trifled with!

Fortunately, Lance didn't have to wait long. Soon, a man in his thirties looked at them, signaling Alberto to bring Lance over.

The two quickly got up and walked to the door. The middle-aged man stopped them slightly, "You only have ten minutes."

The gifts Lance brought had been checked, and they were checked again here before being allowed to be brought in.

After entering the room, Lance saw him, Alberto's boss.

He was wearing a dark brown vest with a silk collar, a white shirt, and a dark cyan tie.

His hair, combed back in a three-seven split, was covered in hair wax, and he noticed that Mr. Pasreito's hair was black.

With thick eyebrows and big eyes, he looked like a positive character in a movie, making a very good first impression.

Alberto took the initiative to walk over, took his hand, and whispered something that Lance didn't hear, then stood aside.

Just when Lance didn't know whether he should learn from him, Mr. Pasreito stood up, extended his hand, and shook hands with Lance, "Your wine helped me a lot. I've always wanted to meet you, and Alberto has told me some interesting things."

"So, it seems your troubles are resolved?"

He asked Alberto to get some wine, then took out two high-end cigars, "Do you like these?"

Lance didn't refuse. He gave one to Lance and one to Alberto, while he himself had half a stick.

"My troubles were resolved thanks to Alberto's help. If it weren't for him, it would have been difficult for me to solve these problems so easily."

Mr. Pasreito seemed to be a very easy-going person. He nodded as he listened to Lance speak, "You and Alberto are friends, and friends should help each other."

"Alberto told me about your movie theater, but he didn't explain it very clearly. He also told me that making movies can help us solve some financial problems."

"Honestly, sending money back and forth seems... very convenient, but it's not as convenient as you think."

"If the things you say can become a reality, even if it costs us five or even ten points more than we currently do, it would be a very good thing for us."

"You will gain the friendship of the Pasreito family!"

Although the Pasreito family's current money-laundering method has a small loss, about ten percent, it is risky and has many limitations.

For example, those funds are in the hands of legitimate businessmen, and they cannot hand over these funds to Mr. Pasreito or his subordinates without a reason.

Otherwise, it would involve those safe assets, making them unsafe.

The Federal government and the Federal Tax Bureau will do everything possible to turn those theoretically legal assets into untaxed criminal proceeds and confiscate them.

So, even if the money is laundered and reaches the Federation, they cannot take it out and use it themselves.

What they can enjoy are movable and immovable properties, obtaining temporary usage rights through leasing and other methods.

Instead of spending money directly.

If they want to spend money, they have to go through several more procedures, and their legal assets are still at risk.

Most of the money they give to family members is black money, which is illegal!

If Lance can help him solve this problem, then it would be a great thing!