Empire of Shadows

"Who is that?"

In another corner, seven or eight young men surrounded a young man who looked to be in his early twenties and was wearing a baseball cap.

It was vaguely apparent that this young man in the baseball cap was the core of their little circle.

This book is first published on the entire network by 𝕥 𝕨 𝕜 𝕒 𝕟 . 𝕔 𝕠 𝕞

A younger one said, "I heard his name is Lance, an illegal immigrant from Barman State."

"He said that he would have an income of two hundred dollars after completing a job. Rob, the annoying guy, argued with him about that just now."

Barman State is not a developed region in the Empire. It relies on agriculture as its economic pillar. Although there are developed cities, it is still slightly behind compared to prosperous areas such as the Imperial Capital.

Most of the Imperial citizens here who have permanent residency and have obtained citizenship come from the developed areas of the Imperial Capital, and only these people can smoothly obtain permanent residency cards and citizenship.

So when talking about Lance's hometown, the youngest guy was a little unimpressed.

"No matter where he comes from, as long as he doesn't get along with Rob, we can be friends."

"As for the two-hundred-dollar job, we can go and listen to what he has to say."

"And get to know him by the way."

Rob doesn't have a good reputation here. He inherited Mr. Bolton's mercenary and snobbish nature, but he didn't disguise these qualities very well.

Towards those poor people he looks down on, he would make sarcastic remarks or ridicule them from time to time, giving people the feeling that he is obviously nobler than them.

And for the children of wealthy families with a certain social status, he would act like a lapdog, wagging his tail and saying nice things.

The more he is like this, the more people dislike him, whether it is those he looks down on or those he wants to curry favor with.

Of course, although everyone dislikes him, it's not to the point of hating him. It's just dislike, which is why he can still appear here.

This group of people had just approached Lance when they heard him say, "I currently have a job that needs someone to do. I'm not willing to give this opportunity to other people, so I thought of our own people first."

The young man in the baseball cap interjected, "Can I ask what it is specifically?"

"Also, how much compensation can you pay us for this job?"

Lance turned to look at him. He was a fair-skinned person, appearing to be about 1.73 to 1.75 meters tall. In this era, this height is already considered very tall.

He looked rather thin, wearing a white shirt, dark trousers, and suspenders, as well as somewhat old but brightly polished leather shoes, and a gray baseball cap.

Many times, Lance couldn't figure out the habit of wearing hats on such a hot day. Moreover, it wasn't just him; many adults and people on the street were wearing hats. Weren't they hot?

Meeting Lance's gaze, the baseball cap took the initiative to extend his hand, "Ennio, from Dokannis."

Lance shook his hand and said with a smile, "Lance, from Barman State."

The two quickly released each other's hands. Ennio asked, "I heard you have a good job you can introduce to us?"

"That's right."

"Can I ask what it is and how much the compensation is?"

The young people around him actually wanted to know these things, otherwise they wouldn't have gathered around.

Although most people here have obtained permanent residency cards and citizenship, it doesn't mean they are definitely rich or middle class.

People like Mr. Bolton, who live in small apartments in the slums, are the mainstream among these immigrants.

Being able to become a banker like Mr. Chobaf is even rarer, maybe only two or three out of more than 30,000 immigrants.

Most people still yearn to earn more money.

"I don't know if you know the nature of my work. In short, it's the kind of work where I solve problems for others, and then they pay me."

"I can guarantee to you that it is absolutely not illegal, but there may be a little trouble."

"This job only takes one day, from 10:00 AM to about 8:00 PM. It doesn't require physical labor. You just sit in one place and can't leave in the middle."

"I can give you…"

He could clearly feel the people around him holding their breath. He held out a hand, separating his fingers, "Five dollars!"

Someone let out a suppressed exclamation. Being able to earn five dollars in one day, wouldn't that be 150 dollars a month?

Even Ennio's breathing became a little rapid. He also needed money. There were few people here who didn't need money.

"How many days does this job last, and how is the money settled?"

Looking at more young people gathering around, Lance patiently explained, "This is just a temporary job, only for one day, but there may be other jobs for you in the future."

"You can get paid immediately after the job is done. There will be absolutely no delays."

"Like I said, this money can be given to anyone, so why wouldn't I give it to my fellow brothers?" He glanced at the several ladies beside him and added with a smile, "And sisters."

The girls giggled, thinking that Lance was a very interesting person. Few people would talk like that, and be so cheerful and outgoing.

Ennio continued to ask, "Then what is the job content?"

"Enjoying food…"

At first, Lance did consider finding some homeless people, but soon he thought again that homeless people simply couldn't enter the restaurant. The manager at the door would prevent them from entering.

If homeless people couldn't enter, then hiring these homeless people would be meaningless.

If he provided them with clothing that would allow them to enter the restaurant, the cost would increase, and it wouldn't achieve the purpose of disgusting Mr. Anderson. It would be better to simply find some ordinary people.

At the same time, instead of giving this job to others, it would be better to give it to these second-generation immigrants.

They have legal identities, and the things they do are not illegal. At most, they will be criticized, but it won't hurt them much.

At the same time, it can establish his image as a "capable" person in the immigrant community. This is a win-win situation.

Soon enough young people hoped to participate in this event. Earning money was one aspect, but more were interested in Lance's plans.

The next morning, Mr. Anderson looked at the prepared ingredients with great satisfaction.

The significance of recruiting apprentices lies in this—

Paying the least amount of money to complete the most work.

He wasn't like the fat boss Johnny, who not only didn't pay apprentices but also demanded money from them.

Mr. Anderson would give each apprentice fifteen dollars in wages, but they lived almost entirely in the restaurant, with no days off.

Every day, from 6:00 AM to 10:00 PM, they spent almost all their time working, unless there were no customers in the restaurant.

Although the conditions were very harsh, people still fought tooth and nail to get in as apprentices, because Mr. Anderson himself was a practitioner from apprentice to restaurant owner.

These apprentices and their families behind them believed that they would definitely be able to learn real skills here, and then become a businessman, a middle class, like Mr. Anderson.

After checking all the ingredients, it was almost ten o'clock. The peak time on weekends starts a little later, around twelve o'clock, but it lasts until about two or three o'clock in the afternoon.

Then, without much rest, you can start preparing for the evening peak at five o'clock. Every weekend is the restaurant's most profitable time, just like yesterday.

Today, he plans to try to earn even more to prepare for expanding his business.

Just as ten o'clock arrived, he heard the manager greeting customers in front. Although Mr. Anderson felt it was a bit early, when customers come to dine, who the hell cares if it's early or not?

As long as they pay, he will make them what they want.

Soon the waiter came to take the order with the menu. The cooks were ready to go all out, but when they looked at the menu, the things on it added up to one dollar and ninety-nine cents.

A ninety-nine-cent bread roll and a one-dollar mixed vegetable salad.

The former's bread is packed in a hand-woven basket. After all, you can eat your fill with fifteen cents of bread in a bakery. Even if the restaurant has a premium, it won't be too outrageous.

Ninety-nine cents gets you a pound of bread, which is enough for two to three people to eat their fill.

Mixed vegetable salad is one of the restaurant's best-selling dishes. The core is some crisp vegetables mixed with some just-cooked, slightly chewy boneless meat.

It is a sweet and sour, very refreshing appetizer, but people who order this alone… don't seem to be very many.

Anderson inquired, and the customer was just one person. It was indeed enough for one person to eat these.

He had seen this kind of person who wanted to experience the atmosphere of a high-end restaurant but was short of money. He didn't say much about it, just told people to maintain the quality of the dishes.

You can't neglect customers just because they spend very little and are alone.

Mr. Anderson got up very early in the morning, and after the busy peak period, he felt a little sleepy.

He greeted the manager and went to the lounge to take a nap.

In a daze, he didn't know how long he had slept when a sudden banging on the door woke him up from his half-asleep state. He suddenly got up and stared blankly for a while before opening the door.

"Are there too many customers and you can't handle it?" He reached out and took the apron hanging on the wall and put it around his neck. "I'll go help."

But the manager was anxious to death, "Something happened in front!"