Empire of Shadows

A raindrop, ready and willing, fell from the clouds, aided by gravity.

With unwavering courage, it dove from the sky towards the ground, its mission to splash a tiny water flower in a shallow puddle!

Gray and gloomy clouds had birthed it, so it too was gray and gloomy.

After passing through countless meters, the outline of a city appeared before it.

Was this the city?

The city in the mist, with the colorful neon lights spreading in a halo, was a beauty it had never seen before in its life.

In that instant, it felt a slight reluctance to crash into the ground; it wanted to see more of this world.

But it had already exhausted all its strength in the process of falling, and it could no longer stop what was happening!

It greedily gazed at this bustling city, its distance from the ground growing ever closer.

It saw a large expanse of black umbrellas, and also people in raincoats, standing in the rain, doing who knows what.

Interestingly, among these people, one stood there without a raincoat or umbrella, just standing in the heavy rain.

The gloomy sky, the gray rain, the black umbrellas, and that solitary soul.

The little raindrop inexplicably felt a hint of philosophy; it saw that a gray soul, lifeless and stagnant, emanated from this person as well.

With a 'splat,' perhaps unnoticed by anyone, a little raindrop landed on the ground, splashing a tiny spray.

Mr. Jobaff wouldn't notice this either; he was just looking at the people around him.

The water soaked his hair, making him look like a drowned madman as he repeated the words from just now, "I'm sorry."

The expressions of those around him changed; one woman, who looked to be in her forties, turned pale, her lips trembling as she said, "Don't scare me, Mr. Jobaff. What do you mean by 'I'm sorry'?"

Mr. Jobaff stood there stunned for a while, then sighed heavily, "The bank, it's out of money."

"I don't believe it!"

Someone immediately shouted loudly, "You must be joking with us, Mr. Jobaff, right?"

"How could someone as rich as you be out of money?"

"Okay, I admit you fooled me, scared me so much I almost couldn't stand. So, can we go in and withdraw money now?"

The person's voice was steady at first, but soon began to tremble; anyone could hear the terror in their heart!

Mr. Jobaff seemed to accept the reality, "I'm not joking with you. The bank is out of money now."

An old woman dropped her umbrella and rushed in front of Mr. Jobaff, grabbing his collar and speaking the weakest words in the strongest posture.

"Please, Mr. Jobaff, this is my and my husband's life savings. You can't do this..."

"We trusted you..."

Mr. Jobaff let the rain beat down on him, the only thing he could do now was to say, "I'm sorry."

People's emotions could no longer be controlled; some spat at him, some punched him, and some kicked him to the ground.

He curled up, hugging his head, letting the rubber shoes fall on him like raindrops.

He couldn't feel the pain, because his heart ached even more!

Wailing police cars appeared, pushing back the crowd and arresting several people before helping Mr. Jobaff out from the center.

His face was covered in blood; the soles of leather shoes were not soft leather, and they had cut several openings when stomped on his head.

The blood mixed with the rain made him look even more disheveled and miserable. He endured the pain in his body and bent over, "I'm sorry, it's all my fault."

Among the crowd who were still able to curse and rage, someone suddenly broke down and cried out. They had really deposited their life savings in the bank.

They trusted Mr. Jobaff too much. The older they were, the more they trusted him, because, to some extent, he had become a special 'symbol' among the empire's immigrant community.

But it was this trust that made them miss the opportunity to make up for their losses.

In fact, according to the things he mortgaged, it was still possible to squeeze out some money, a few hundred thousand, or two or three hundred thousand, but even if this money was obtained, it would not change the current situation in any way.

Looking at the people who collapsed to the ground, he was numb all over.

"I will give everyone an explanation."

He said this, then turned and went back into the bank.

The staff in the bank were all looking at him worriedly. He squeezed out a little smile, "I don't know what to say, but thank you for your hard work over the years."

"I'm sorry to all of you."

The employees were silent. Although they had long been mentally prepared and had foreseen the arrival of this day.

But when it happened, it was still difficult for everyone to accept it calmly.

Some ladies even cried out.

This was not only a huge emotional blow; some of them had worked here for more than ten or twenty years. This place was like their second home!

Now, suddenly, this home was about to fall apart. How could they not be sad?

In addition, this also meant that they were about to lose their jobs. Those who were younger might be slightly better off.

They could still find jobs outside, but what about those who were older?

Like the awkward age of forty, factories would not want them, and other banks would not want them either. They might never be able to find such a comfortable job again.

Emotional hurt and uncertainty about the future made everyone feel very painful and sad.

Mr. Jobaff took out his pocket watch and handed it to the supervisor, "This watch is still worth some money. Take it and exchange it for money, and pay everyone's salary for this month."

"This is the last thing I can do for you."

The supervisor took the pocket watch, feeling some unspeakable pain, "Mr. Jobaff, is there really no hope at all?"

He shook his head. If the mayor had won, then this would not be a problem. Those banks would be very happy to lend him money, even if he had no collateral.

But now, the mayor had lost, and he had lost all chance of turning things around.

He pursed his lips, "Let's just leave it at that."

"If you don't leave now, you won't be able to leave soon."

"Remember to go through the back door, you probably won't be able to get out through the front."

The outside of the bank was already crowded with people. If they went out through the front door, they would have to face the surging crowd.

The supervisor wanted to say something, but Mr. Jobaff waved his hand. He could only swallow those words back into his stomach, "Then we'll leave first, Mr. Jobaff."

He nodded, "Goodbye."

"Goodbye."

"Remember to lock the door..."

Mr. Jobaff returned to his office. He thought a lot, but he still couldn't find a solution.

Suddenly, someone threw a brick and broke the office window. The curses from outside began to quickly pour in through the broken window.

People cursed very harshly, greeting his family, his wife, and even the fact that they had no children became the target of their attacks.

The rain poured in, falling on the expensive floors, chairs, and everywhere. He just stared blankly.

After a long while, he changed to another room, picked up the phone, and made a call to his cousin.

"Joe?"

"I heard that the bank went bankrupt. What's going on?"

Mr. Jobaff was silent for a while, "It's like you heard, I'm bankrupt."

"Oh my god... Is there anything I can do for you?"

Mr. Jobaff sighed softly, "No, you can't do anything for me. Don't get involved in this!"

"I just want to say, I'm fine, don't worry about me. Say hello to everyone for me, everything will be alright."

"There will always be a solution, just like an opera always has an ending."

His brother heard that what Mr. Jobaff said was not quite right, "Don't do anything stupid!"

"I've lost everything, but I still have my family. I'm really happy to have had you all..."

He hung up the phone, then went back to the lounge. He picked up a comb, tidied his hair, and changed into a new set of clothes.

He took a very thick book from the bookcase in the office, opened it, and there was a flat little flask inside, with about three ounces of wine.

He poured himself a glass of wine and raised his glass to himself in the mirror.

A moment later, he smashed the glass hard on the ground. The sound of smashing the door already came from downstairs.

He was Jobaff, the light of the empire's immigrants, he did not accept such a miserable failure!

He pulled open the secret compartment in the drawer, and there was a pistol inside.

The wind was howling outside, and the rain was also blown into the room by the wind, some falling on his face.

He sat there blankly for a long time.

He had no way to face those depositors outside, just like the old woman said, a family's life savings were deposited in the bank, but he lost them.

He could not forgive himself, and he could not make up for the losses of these people. At this moment, besides dying, there seemed to be no other way to go.

Using his own life to atone for his mistakes, perhaps this was the only solution he could think of.

He glanced at the pistol in his hand. This pistol was bought by his assistant when he was first blackmailed. At that time, he told himself that if anyone blackmailed him again, he would use this gun to kill those people.

But until this moment, this gun had never been used.

Those who had extorted him were not punished; instead, he was constantly being extorted and blackmailed.

What was wrong with this world?

He didn't understand!

A mocking smile appeared on his face. He hadn't expected that the first bullet from the gun he used to protect himself would be for himself.

With a trembling hand, he raised the gun to his temple, took one last look at the gloomy sky outside the window, silently said "Goodbye," and pulled the trigger.

The bullet pierced his skull, splattering some blood on the wall, and he fell there, motionless.

A dozen minutes later, the bank's doors were pried open by angry people. They rushed into the bank and saw Mr. Chobaff sitting in his chair.

At that moment, the weather, which had been raining for a long time, suddenly and miraculously cleared up.

The dark clouds were broken apart by the sunlight, dissolving into the azure sky.

The entire sky seemed to become bluer, and the sun, even more intense.

The police didn't call for an ambulance. With such a wound, no one could help. They directly called the coroner with a hearse.

It was clearly a suicide scene, without any significance. The coroner also believed that everything here was consistent with the deduction of suicide.

Mr. Chobaff was placed in a body bag and, under the gaze of the crowd, was sent to the morgue.

The bank was sealed off, but the people standing outside the bank were lost.

Mr. Chobaff was dead, so who should they ask for the money?

Who could return the savings of those families, accumulated over one or even two generations?

Lance learned of Mr. Chobaff's suicide as soon as it happened. People from the Imperial Chamber of Commerce had been paying attention to the situation here, after all, most of them were lucky.

At Lance's reminder, they had withdrawn their funds from the bank in advance.

At this time, a large number of Imperial Chamber of Commerce members gathered at Lance's company. Actually, the house wasn't too small, but with so many people in the room, it looked very crowded.

It's time to move to a bigger house.

Rogerfu sighed, "I've known Mr. Chobaff for at least thirty years. In my mind, he has always been a very capable person, especially in managing the bank."

"I didn't expect... that he would go bankrupt and choose this path."

Someone continued his words, "This is an inevitable result. He owed so much money, who could solve his problem?"

"And who can solve the problems of those depositors?"

Rogerfu sighed, "What's even more unlucky are those old people who didn't manage to withdraw their money in time. Autumn is coming soon, and their lives will be very difficult."

Everyone's expressions seemed a little pained. Actually, when Lance hinted that the Jinda Bank might have problems, they didn't think it was true.

Transferring the funds was only because they were earning money with Lance, and in order to continue to follow in Lance's footsteps to make money, that's why they did it.

But now, they can only feel fortunate.

However, some people still had some money in the bank and didn't withdraw it all. They had known Mr. Chobaff for a long time and were too embarrassed to do so.

Now, this money has disappeared, which also makes them feel very depressed.

Rogerfu couldn't help but ask, "Mr. Lance, where exactly did Mr. Chobaff's money go?"

Lance sat in his chair, pressing down on the armrests with both hands, "He had a lot of money, but he didn't have the ability to protect it, so everyone who had the ability to tear off a piece of meat from him would be attracted by his wealth."

"Gangsters, hooligans, including the mayor."

"He originally had many opportunities to make changes, but each time, he stood on the wrong option. This society led to the tragedy, and he himself chose this path."

"We are not strong, but we must make those who covet our wealth understand one thing."

"They can covet our wealth, even want to take it away, but at the same time, they must be prepared to have their teeth shattered!"

"As long as we resist to the end every time, even if we lose, we won't make it easy for them, they will slowly understand that we are not easy to mess with."

He paused for a moment, "Recently, international grain prices have been rising. This is a good project to invest in. We can hoard some grain."

When it came to making money, everyone immediately swept away the pessimistic atmosphere just now and became enthusiastic.

Rogerfu licked his slightly dry and cracked lips, "Mr. Lance, we all know that grain prices are rising, but we don't have much money in hand now."

"The money has been invested in that batch of medicine!"

The price of that batch of medicine has already risen by more than forty percent, and it is still continuing to increase, and the speed is not slow.

This is a very successful investment, and everyone believes that their net worth will double again.

The longer the war drags on, the higher the value of these millions of medicines will be.

Of course, the increase in grain prices is actually also very alarming, but its unit price is too low, and people may not have noticed it yet.

Lance nodded slightly, "I know, but that's not a problem. We mortgage this batch of medicine to the bank, and then use the money to hoard some grain."

Someone asked, "Mr. Lance, why don't we continue to hoard medicine?"

"Medicine has now become a sensitive resource, and it is not easy for us to get so much goods on a large scale again."

The Pasleyto family can't get large quantities of medicine now either. Medicine is one of the most important supplies in the war, and the Federation has begun to implement limited control measures.

If it is reasonable purchase, it is okay, but hoarding goods by private individuals like Lance and them is basically very difficult.

Of course, it is no problem for the old men to hoard goods, after all, their hoarding is for the country and the people, unlike people like Lance and them, who are only for making money.

Attracting the attention of some people in order to make money is not in line with Lance's current interests. In front of the real high-level officials of the Federation, he is still just an inconspicuous little character.

He briefly explained that the price increase rate of grain is not slower than that of medicine, and it is also a core key material, and now hoarding grain will not cause unnecessary trouble, so they agreed.

The Federation has not been involved in the war, so grain is not considered a controlled material, and the Federal government does not believe that they will be involved in the war.

The matter was quickly decided, and everyone worked together to find ways to fill the warehouse.

With a new money-making project, Rogerfu's pace became a little lighter, not at all like an old man of his age.

The series of problems caused by Mr. Chobaff's death are still fermenting. Lance asked Lawyer Robb to transfer the three large houses to his name as soon as possible to avoid conflicts of interest.

Major banks are also promoting the completion of the property rights changes of those mortgages as soon as possible, so as not to have to distribute their residual value to those depositors.

The collapse of a bank did not cause any impact on the financial situation of King's Harbor City, but instead allowed these banks to eat a piece of fat pork belly.

As for those depositors who collapsed on the roadside, they are never the object of concern for the rulers.

And no one cares about what they should do in the future.

Perhaps soon, the focus of public opinion will shift away from these issues, and people will not even talk about them anymore.

Until one day they appear in the newspaper a few months later, accompanied by horrifying headlines such as "Frozen to Death" or "Starved to Death", once again becoming people's after-dinner entertainment.