Empire of Shadows

The Deputy Director of the Bureau of Dangerous Goods had never been a particularly prominent figure.

In fact, he had tried to make an impression before.

Before Director Dale had even officially taken office, he had arrived in Goldport City ahead of time, inviting some core agents to meet, have dinner, and build relationships.

To have risen to the position of Deputy Director in a department directly managed by Congress indicated that he also had connections and influence.

Unfortunately, Dale's connections were stronger, and he immediately became entangled with the mayor upon arrival.

As a result, the Deputy Director was marginalized without even realizing it.

Director Dale handled many matters that should have been his responsibility, leaving him with no good options.

He knew he couldn't compete with Dale, so he could only pretend to be invisible and wait for a special opportunity.

Perhaps this opportunity would come quickly, but it was also possible that it would never arise.

When he left work in the evening, he got into Director Dale's car. He didn't know what Dale wanted to discuss with him, but his attitude of obedience and respect was impeccable.

At the end of the workday, he arrived at the parking lot five minutes early. He saw Director Dale approaching, and after exchanging greetings, the Deputy Director got into Dale's car.

As the car left the Bureau of Dangerous Goods parking lot, Director Dale drove and asked, "We've been working together for two years now. What kind of person do you think I am?"

This question… puzzled the Deputy Director, but that didn't stop him from immediately answering, "You are an excellent leader. Under your leadership, the Bureau of Dangerous Goods has frequently cracked down on smuggling and trafficking of alcohol. We are not unknown within this system."

Director Dale nodded. "A very formal answer. I know you probably don't like me very much because I've always kept you idle, without assigning you any specific tasks."

The Deputy Director was even more confused. "My abilities are still lacking, so my main job now is to learn how to become an excellent manager, rather than letting me mess up our work."

The red light ahead turned on, and Director Dale stepped on the brakes, stopping the car in the middle of the road.

There were sounds of car horns honking around them, the sound of pedestrians walking on the sidewalk, and all sorts of other noises. They mixed together, forming a very special sound, full of vibrant life.

Director Dale thought for a moment and found an entry point. "…Have those matters regarding (a certain agent) been negotiated well?"

He couldn't possibly avoid assigning the Deputy Director any work at all, so sometimes when he encountered tricky problems, he would pass them on to the Deputy Director.

For example, the Prohibition agent he mentioned had been shot in the spine by several moonshiners during an arrest operation at the end of last year and was now paralyzed.

He had completely lost sensation below the abdomen, and was even unable to control his bowel movements.

The Bureau of Dangerous Goods had various response plans and measures in place, with compensation standards for both disability and death benefits.

However, the problem was that this colleague's troubles were too great. He wasn't an ordinary disabled person, such as one suffering from organ failure due to serious injuries.

After the one-time payment of treatment costs, there would be no subsequent expenses.

This colleague incurred a considerable bill every week, one or two hundred dollars.

In addition to various medications, he also had someone specifically watching over him.

After all, being unable to control bowel movements meant that he could defecate in bed at any time, and even his parents couldn't stand that, so they had to hire a caregiver.

At the same time, he wouldn't die in a short period of time. The hospital said that as long as the money kept coming, he could live for another thirty years.

Thirty years, one or two hundred a week, this expense was not covered in the compensation clauses at all.

So this had become a problem. Either sue the agent, confirming that the Bureau of Dangerous Goods was not required to continue paying any of his expenses, or have a member of the State or Federal Prohibition Committee issue an instruction.

For example, paying his lifetime bills, but this was unlikely, they would not agree.

If they agreed to this, they would have to agree to other people's requests.

Rules were always cold and unsympathetic. The State Prohibition Committee did not intend to continue compensating, so now the agent's problem had become a headache.

He was injured and paralyzed for the federal government, yet he had to pay for his own treatment, which was unreasonable.

The Deputy Director had taken action after accepting this matter. He had made several trips to the State Prohibition Committee, but there had been no progress.

Including now, there was still none.

He shook his head, "Ordinary committee members don't care much about this matter, but the executive committee firmly requires us to implement the compensation standards on a one-time basis."

If it was implemented on a one-time basis, it meant that the agent would soon slowly die in his hospital bed because he couldn't afford to pay his medical bills.

This was cruel to him, and it was a cruel thing for everyone.

They had dedicated everything to the federal government and the Bureau of Dangerous Goods, only to be abandoned by the department in the end. Even 'strictly adhering to the rules' federal personnel couldn't all accept this.

Director Dale sighed softly, "Actually, I also heard something."

The Deputy Director asked, "What?"

After organizing his thoughts, he said, "I heard that the police department has similar situations. Some people are paralyzed, some are injured, some are seriously ill, and some even need to buy houses but don't qualify for loans, or can't afford tuition for their children to go to college."

"They have some kind of foundation that specifically handles these matters, helping these people overcome difficulties."

The Deputy Director nodded. "Yes, I've heard of it too, but I heard that the foundation seems to be Lance's enterprise. He uses this method to win over all the police officers."

Director Dale nodded. At this moment, the red light ended and the green light came on. He stepped on the accelerator, and a slight sense of being pushed back told the people in the car that it had started moving.

"Sometimes his actions make it difficult for me to agree with his identity. He seems more like a politician, or something else, than a gang leader."

The Deputy Director nodded, agreeing with the Director's point of view. "Although I don't want to admit it, you're right. He's a very special guy with personal charisma."

Hearing the Deputy Director say this, Director Dale smiled even more. "If someone could do something like that for us too, and set up a foundation, this case wouldn't be so heartbreaking."

The Deputy Director had now vaguely sensed that something was wrong. He didn't answer immediately, but reorganized Director Dale's words.

He felt that Director Dale seemed to be conveying some kind of information to him, an unbelievable message.

After the car started, it rejoined the traffic. Director Dale kept his eyes on the car in front, as if casually asking, "Our work is very dangerous. We often have firefights with armed transport criminals, although our compensation is in the upper middle range among all government departments."

"But danger isn't just about injury and death. We need more support."

"In the past two years, our struggle with moonshiners has become increasingly fierce. Many people have been injured and left us. I feel guilty for not being able to give them enough support."

He mentioned several people who had to end their work early due to injuries.

However, the Bureau of Dangerous Goods could only provide them with very little financial assistance, just enough to keep them barely alive.

It wasn't necessarily possible to live a quality life, or even be able to take medication on time.

It's not that the system is flawed, but no matter how perfect a system is, there will always be some areas that are not taken care of.

For example, for those who need lifelong treatment and lifelong medication, they will be paid on a one-time basis according to the disability standards.

That money is enough for people to use in the short term, but it's not enough in the long run.

"Do you mean…", he tilted his head to look at Director Dale.

Director Dale smiled. "I talked to Lance, and he's also interested in establishing such a foundation for our Bureau of Dangerous Goods."

At that moment, the Deputy Director felt as if he had been struck by lightning. His whole body went numb, followed by a tingling scalp and goosebumps!

How could he have ignored the name that Director Dale seemed to have casually mentioned?

Even if he was slow to react, he knew what was happening.

Director Dale actually had contact with Lance, what did that mean?

He felt a little terrified.

The car slowly stopped again because of the red light. Director Dale took out a cigarette case from his pocket, gave one to the Deputy Director, and lit one for himself.

"Lance… is a very interesting person. We can't look at him in the traditional way of viewing gangsters."

"He's different from those people. You'll feel that way after you've been in contact with him."

"He's a person who likes to make friends. He wants to make friends with you."

The Deputy Director tilted his head to look at the Director, who seemed to be seriously waiting for the traffic light, and didn't know what to say for a moment.

He also had a background. If he didn't have a background, he couldn't have become the Deputy Director, and he couldn't have been assigned to Goldport City.

To put it in a more popular way, the people behind him, or the people who provided him with help, could let him ascend to the brightest stage in Licarley State.

As for what extent he could achieve, that was his own problem, but the people behind him had already done their part.

The Deputy Chief wasn't too keen on getting involved with Lance. Chief Dale's repeated mistakes and current mediocre performance had already prompted the State Alcohol Beverage Control to consider transferring him.

Once he was transferred, the most likely candidate to succeed him as Chief would be himself.

At this time, if he were dragged into Dale and Lance's little group, he would not only lose all initiative but also risk becoming blind and deaf after his succession.

The power he possessed would no longer belong to him.

Therefore, he didn't want to agree to Chief Dale's request. In his eyes, in his heart, his attitude towards Chief Dale wasn't as respectful as he portrayed.

The green light turned on again, and the car resumed its journey. Chief Dale drove while smoking, "Have you considered it?" he asked.

The Deputy Chief breathed a sigh of relief. Not forcing him to answer immediately was the best response.

He would find a way to contact the people behind him, to let the State Alcohol Beverage Control know that Chief Dale had betrayed them!

"Okay, I'll consider it!" he said, following Chief Dale's lead, with a slight smile on his face, "In principle, I am very willing to be close to Mr. Lance, just like you said, he is not a typical gangster."

"He has truly brought stability and order to this city. Perhaps cooperating with him is the best approach."

"Smuggled alcohol can never be completely eliminated. What we should actually do is not to eradicate it entirely, but to keep everything under our control."

Chief Dale nodded and agreed with a smile, "You see things very clearly. Laws have been around for so many years, and yet so many people still commit crimes every year. The same goes for Prohibition."

"No one will really give up such huge profits just because we have enacted and implemented Prohibition. Catching one will only create two more."

"Anyway… think about it."

The Deputy Chief agreed. Chief Dale then chatted with him about work-related matters for a while before stopping the car outside the Deputy Chief's residential community.

"I have other things to attend to, so I won't see you inside…" he said after the car came to a stop.

The Deputy Chief nodded repeatedly and opened the car door, "Okay, you go ahead and take care of your business."

They looked at each other for two or three seconds, and then Chief Dale nodded in acknowledgment and drove away.

After watching Chief Dale's car drive far away, the smile on the Deputy Chief's face gradually faded.

This matter was, to some extent, a trouble.

What he didn't know was that after Chief Dale made a turn at the next intersection, he immediately pulled over and stopped, then dialed Lance's number at a phone booth.

"He's unwilling to cooperate. We need to silence him as soon as possible. He knows about our relationship."

Since he wanted to drag the Deputy Chief down, he would definitely have to expose their relationship. Therefore, Lance wasn't surprised by this. He simply said he understood and hung up the phone.

Chief Dale didn't drive away. He circled around and drove back to the Deputy Chief's community, then bought some fast food and sat in the car, staring at the community gate.

At the same time, Panda's colleague angrily shook off his hand, "I thought you were a warrior with faith, but I didn't expect you to actually be…" He looked left and right, walked up to Panda, forehead to forehead, and lowered his voice, "You're actually colluding with Lance!"

"Holy crap, I even told them they should learn from you. You're a shameful thief, Panda!"

"You better take the initiative to explain your problems to the higher-ups. Considering that we were once colleagues, I'll give you three days."

"In three days, if you don't take the initiative to confess your problems, I'll report you!"

"Fuck, you've ruined my appetite for the whole night!"

"Now, you get the hell away from me. I have nothing to say to someone like you!"

Panda's persuasion failed. He only slightly hinted that someone wanted to meet with this colleague, chat, and make friends.

Then, after he said Lance's name, this colleague began to erupt.

Looking at the righteous expression on the other person's face, Panda felt somewhat dazed.

Once, he was like this too, his heart full of sunshine, without the slightest shadow.

Watching the other person leave cursing, he walked into the phone booth on the side of the road.

He knew what the fate of this righteous champion would be after this call was made.

But he also had his own difficulties. He wanted to gain people's respect. He wanted his wife to feel safe. He wanted to control his own destiny!

He needed power, only power could allow him to do this.

"I'm sorry!" he said as he turned the last number on the dial.

Soon the call was connected, and he repeated the word he had just said into the microphone.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Lance, I didn't manage to handle him. He rejected my proposal and told me to confess to the Chief within three days, otherwise he would report me."

"Okay… I understand. Hmm, okay, goodbye."

He hung up the phone, feeling somewhat lost. When he came out of the phone booth, he felt the urge to smoke.

He took out a cigarette case and took out a cigarette.

The rapidly moving pedestrians around him and him standing still outside the phone booth formed a stark contrast.

The aura of loneliness and isolation on him was out of tune with the bustling and noisy streets. No one could understand him, only cigarettes and alcohol.

He took a puff of smoke, looked at the colorful city, slowly exhaled, and then said the word "sorry" for the third time.

A dozen minutes later, Chief Dale, who had been observing the community gate, perked up. Four cars began to turn and enter the roads within the community.

The security guard at the entrance simply stopped them briefly and quickly let them through.

Looking at the figures sitting upright in the cars, Chief Dale knew they were about to make their move.

He felt a kind of… morbid, unfathomable pleasure.

Since you're unwilling to join the flow, then we'll destroy you!

What are you being so noble for?

What are you pretending for?

He squinted slightly, his eyes flashing with an incomprehensible light.

At the same time, the Deputy Chief sat in his study, supporting his chin with one hand, thinking about the problem.

It was now dinner time. He had just called the person behind him, but he couldn't get through. They must be dining.

Being a big shot, the longer the dinner time, the more socializing was required.

Socializing itself involved many other things besides eating dinner, so there was a high probability that he wouldn't be able to get through before nine o'clock.

He was thinking about how deep the "cooperation" between Chief Dale and Lance really was. Why did they suddenly start "self-exposing"? Did Lance or Chief Dale think everything was under control?

This made him feel a sense of horror. Were they so unafraid because they were so casually exposing these relationships?

The Deputy Chief was feeling uneasy at this moment. In addition to wanting to tell the person behind him about this, he was also considering whether to transfer out of Goldport City.

After the Lance family resolved the Five Great Families, they became the emperor of the Goldport City underworld, coupled with the rise of Councilor Williams.

One controlled Goldport City during the day, and the other controlled Goldport City after nightfall. This city was like a sand table toy in front of them.

Even if he squeezed Chief Dale out, could he really sit in this position himself?

If he agreed to cooperate with Lance and make friends, then he would become involuntary. It would be better to simply leave early.

Thinking of this, he couldn't wait to try dialing the phone number of the person behind him again. The phone rang twice, then the busy tone suddenly disappeared, as if… the phone line had suddenly been cut.

He suddenly stood up and looked out the window…