Empire of Shadows

The phone line suddenly went dead, which was never a good sign.

Under the cover of night, nothing could be seen outside the window. The dim streetlights revealed no anomalies, but the more tranquil it seemed, the more uneasy he felt.

He quickly pulled open a drawer, revealing a semi-automatic pistol. He checked the magazine, pulled back the bolt, disengaged the safety, and stuffed two spare magazines into his pockets.

He emerged from the study to find his wife reading a magazine in the living room.

Although televisions were starting to appear and broadcast programs, few families could afford or were willing to buy one.

However, experts predicted that within five years, televisions would rapidly become commonplace and enter every household.

Industries related to television were becoming popular investment opportunities. "Watching movies at home" became a television advertising slogan, and even though people couldn't afford one, that didn't stop them from talking about it.

It was like the middle class discussing luxury cars or the lower class discussing houses; their understanding of these things might even surpass that of the manufacturers and developers themselves!

They actually had three children, but none of them were in King's Harbor City; they were all in other places.

One of their children worked at the Manteno City Hall, and the other two were civil servants in their hometown.

He wouldn't transfer his children unless he was sure he could keep his word, as it could be used against him.

Even if his children wanted to come here.

So, it was just him and his wife in this house, along with a maid, but she had already gone home.

"Honey..." The woman saw her husband walk out of the study with a grave expression and a pistol in his hand. She gasped at first, but then quickly covered her mouth.

The Deputy Director quickly walked to her side, reassured her a few times, and then picked up the living room phone. It was still dead silent; the phone line had been cut.

"We might be in trouble," he said to his wife, trying his best not to appear frightened.

He knew that if he showed fear at this moment, his wife would break down.

He wouldn't do that; he wouldn't let his wife break down. He could only force himself to remain calm.

His wife's body was trembling, and her eyes were filled with fear.

"What's happening?"

The Deputy Director was silent for a moment, then sighed. "I'm sorry."

He now knew where the problem likely lay. He hadn't immediately agreed to befriend Lance, so from Director Dale's perspective, that was a refusal.

Someone who knew secrets and wasn't willing to be their friend shouldn't live in this world.

Now it was too late for regrets. He took his wife's hand and led her toward the storage room.

The storage room had a small staircase leading to the basement, which housed the basement and boiler room.

In middle-class neighborhoods like this, the boiler room was usually a separate room in the basement. The boiler was almost always in use, ensuring the family never lacked hot water.

And people who could afford detached houses in middle-class neighborhoods certainly weren't short of money to heat water.

He settled his wife in the basement and gave her the defense revolver issued by the Hazardous Materials Management Bureau. "You know how to use it, right?"

His wife nodded. "Yes, I know. Aim at the person I want to shoot, then pull the trigger hard."

The Deputy Director nodded. "Yes, that's right. Just like that."

He looked at his wife and gave her one last hug. "No matter what, if you don't hear my voice, don't trust anyone else!"

After saying that, he released his wife and went back upstairs.

Just as he was going upstairs, he suddenly heard a slight "zhiya" sound, the creak of a wooden plank being stepped on.

That sound came from the floorboard at the back of the house. It had been partially damaged when things were being moved, and then rain had seeped in, followed by sun and harsh winters, causing it to warp more and more.

Now it made a sound when stepped on. He used to hate this sound, but today, he suddenly felt grateful for it.

He took a deep breath, held it, and his heartbeat was like thunder!

His temples were throbbing with each pump of blood from his heart.

He didn't know if it was adrenaline kicking in, but he felt incredibly strong at that moment.

Holding the gun with both hands, he lowered his stance and walked to the intersection of the dining room and the hallway leading to the back rooms. Through the blinds on the back door, he saw a figure seemingly trying to open his back door.

The next moment, he raised the weapon in his hand at the figure and pulled the trigger without hesitation.

He was a law enforcement officer with extensive experience, and he knew very well that being indecisive in this situation was irresponsible and put his life at risk.

What he didn't expect was that the moment he fired, the door was kicked open.

These wooden-structured houses could only ever defend against civilized people, offering no defense against barbarians.

With one kick, the metal latch broke off the wooden lock, and with wood chips flying, the door was kicked open, slamming hard against the wall.

Glass shattered all over the floor, and then the Deputy Director felt gunshots coming from all directions; it was very lively.

The whole process lasted less than ten seconds. Ten seconds later, the gunshots stopped.

He leaned against the wall and staggered into the dining room, holding onto the table and sitting down in a chair.

He looked down at his body, which had many small holes slowly bleeding.

He had a wry smile on his face. "Motherf..."

Before he could finish speaking, he fell to the ground.

Alan walked to the back door and glanced at the subordinate lying on the ground with two gunshot wounds. He crouched down to check the other person's injuries. Two bullets had hit his chest.

They probably hadn't hit the heart, but the situation was still serious.

When he breathed, tiny blood spots sprayed from his mouth and nose along with his breath, and there was a clear feeling of suffocation. This was a sign of a large accumulation of blood in the lungs; he probably wouldn't make it to the hospital.

He sighed, cursed a few times, and then ordered his subordinates to take him to the nearest hospital as quickly as possible.

There were many hospitals in the Starlight District. As long as he could hold on a little longer, there was hope of surviving.

"Cleanup work" was like this: seemingly ordinary, but also full of dangers.

Especially when the target of the cleanup was a gang member or a law enforcement officer.

They had weapons in their hands and wouldn't hesitate to pull the trigger, which could easily cause casualties.

As for situations with absolutely no casualties, those only appeared in ridiculous and nonsensical novels.

The life of a gangster was like this: kill others, or be killed by others.

Hopefully, he could pull through.

Alan's face didn't look good. He walked back into the room. "Intelligence said he also has a wife. Find her."

The woman hiding in the basement listened to the dense footsteps coming from the floorboards upstairs, and the sudden bursts of intense gunfire that vanished just as quickly. She tightly covered her mouth to prevent herself from making any noise.

She knew that her husband had been killed.

She had no one else to rely on; she could only rely on herself.

She didn't know how long had passed when the basement door was pulled open, and light shone in from outside. She was startled.

Her hands trembled as she raised the gun and aimed it at the stairs. When she saw a pair of legs, she subconsciously pulled the trigger.

Shooting is a very… special skill.

People who have never actually shot a gun will never understand how difficult it is. They might think that shooting is as simple as aiming, pulling the trigger, and hitting the target.

Two interesting things have happened in the Federation. First, a police officer who had received professional shooting training fired five shots from a distance of five meters due to panic, and didn't hit anything.

Another interesting thing was that someone used an automatic rifle and fired thirty bullets from a distance of ten meters, and didn't hit anything.

Shooting isn't an easy job; it's very difficult.

The Deputy Director's wife hadn't practiced shooting, so when she half-closed her eyes and pulled the trigger, the muzzle had already strayed to who knows where!

The moment the gunshot rang out, a "fuck" curse came from the stairs, but fortunately, the bullet didn't hit.

The recoil generated by the revolver caused the woman's wrist, which hadn't firmly gripped the gun and resisted the force, to suffer a huge impact.

The gun fell to the ground, and she quickly bent down to look for it. Just at that moment, several people rushed down from above…

On the other side, the Senior Agent who had rejected Ponda returned home cursing. Without thinking, he dialed Director Dale's phone, but Director Dale wasn't home at the time.

Director Dale's wife told him that he would have the Senior Agent return the call when he got back.

Sitting in the living room, he was absentmindedly thinking about things, shaking his leg incessantly.

Shaking his leg seemed to bring him some sense of security, bringing some comfortable psychological changes.

But as he thought, he couldn't help but stand up and pace back and forth.

His wife looked at him. "Did something happen?"

"You look very frightened and uneasy."

The Senior Agent was stunned for a moment. "Is it that obvious?"

His wife nodded. "Didn't you notice?"

"Your head is covered in sweat!"

The high-level agent raised his hand to wipe his face, finding it covered in sweat. His wife walked over and embraced him, resting her head against his chest. "What happened?"

The high-level agent was unsure how to explain the situation. "Today, Pangda… do you know Pangda?"

She nodded. "I know. You told me his position as a high-level agent was previously taken by someone else."

"Right, it's him. I didn't expect him to be one of Lance's people, and he even tried to win me over."

"I refused…"

He was actually regretting it a bit now. He shouldn't have refused, not because he wanted to be friends with Pangda or Lance, but to buy himself some time.

He could have even pretended to be friends, obtained more information, and then used it, instead of directly refusing like he did now.

He didn't know if Pangda would become enraged, or if Lance would do something, but he felt very uneasy.

"No, we can't stay here. We have to leave immediately!"

As he spoke, he grabbed his wife and shouted upstairs, calling out his two children. "We're going to Grandma's house."

The two children, not knowing what was happening, immediately cheered.

His wife was from Jin Gang City, and her parents also lived there, but in the Xilin District.

The pace of life there was slow, prices were cheaper than in other districts, and there were no gang-related problems. It was quiet, making it suitable for the elderly.

The family of four immediately went to the garage and got into his car.

He started the car and floored the accelerator.

As he was leaving the community, he suddenly noticed several cars entering. He glanced over, and in that one glance, he was so scared that he almost lost control of his bladder!

The young men in those cars all looked like assassins, and they were heading straight for his house.

He didn't dare to look again and quickly averted his gaze, seeing in the rearview mirror that their cars had stopped some distance from his house.

His wife also noticed them, her eyes filled with fear, but also a hint of joy at their narrow escape!

The high-level agent dared not linger and floored the accelerator. Under the cover of night, the car quickly disappeared onto the city streets.

After Dale had someone cut the phone lines, he used the skills he learned from the locksmith to easily pick the lock.

The locksmith had been making great contributions recently. Lance had mentioned the general appearance of a quick-lock-picking tool, and the locksmith had quickly designed and created it based on Lance's description.

It was like a large, graspable key. You insert the key into the keyhole, apply torque by twisting it, and then drag a small pin back and forth. The lock would open in seconds.

This tool was very popular, providing great convenience for everyone carrying out missions.

After entering the room, the group carefully searched all the rooms, but ultimately found no one there.

Dale came to the dining room, touched the glass of ice water on the table, and noticed the condensation. He turned around and cursed, "That car we encountered when we came in!"

But now it was too late to chase after them.

He could only lead his men away and then dial Lance's number.

"Boss, we were a step late. They got away."

Lance didn't say anything to him, just told them to come back and think about where the target might have gone.

After Director Dale returned home, his wife told him that his subordinate had called earlier, saying that he needed to speak to him urgently.

He called back, but no one answered. Soon after, he received a call from Lance, who explained the situation.

Director Dale hadn't been exposed to the high-level agent yet, which meant that if the agent wanted to save himself, Director Dale would be his first choice.

Next, all he had to do was wait quietly.

David didn't let his men disperse but kept waiting for news.

Around ten o'clock in the evening, the high-level agent arrived at his wife's mother's house with his family. He didn't explain in detail what had happened, only saying that he had brought his family over for a visit.

But the old woman knew that something must have happened.

He went into a room and called Director Dale.

"Is there something you can't say during work hours tomorrow?" Director Dale's voice held a hint of impatience, sounding perfectly normal.

The high-level agent swallowed. He explained his current situation, "When I got off work tonight, Pangda found me. He said Lance wanted to be friends with me, that he had already been corrupted."

"I didn't agree. I told him to turn himself in, otherwise I would expose him, and then…"

His voice was filled with deep fear. "Not long after I got back, Lance's people came, but luckily I left one step ahead and escaped!"

"They planned to silence me. F*ck, these people really have no regard for the law!"

After listening, Director Dale's tone also became serious. "Are you sure you haven't had too much to drink, or are you joking with me?"

"I'm sure, Director. We have a mole here!" His tone was filled with hatred. He hadn't even planned to kill Pangda, but Pangda actually sent Lance's people to kill him!

This was simply unforgivable. He would make Pangda die!

Director Dale's tone was also very solemn. "This is indeed very important news. I will immediately arrange for people to arrest Pangda. Also, I will arrange for some people to protect you. Where are you now?"

Director Dale had always presented himself as a "nemesis of crime." Whether it was the Five Families or the Lance Family, he would take action and arrest these people as soon as they were discovered, and he never compromised.

Therefore, the high-level agent didn't suspect that Director Dale might have become Lance's "friend" like Pangda.

He told Director Dale his current address without reservation. Director Dale told him to be careful and that he would send people to protect him soon.

After doing all this, the high-level agent finally breathed a sigh of relief. When he came out of the room, his face already had a tired smile.

Although tired, the smile was genuine.

His family also noticed this. "Is it resolved?"

He nodded. "The Director already knows. He is arranging for people to arrest Pangda immediately, and he has also arranged for people to come and protect me."

"As long as we can pry open Pangda's mouth, Lance will likely face imprisonment!"

Pangda's mouth is easy to pry open, because of his wife and children. This is his weakness.

The high-level agent had already made a decision. He would apply to the Director to personally interrogate Pangda. He would make that bastard feel his anger!

On the other side of the city, Director Dale, after hanging up the phone, told Lance the address and jokingly recounted the details of their conversation.

After a few words of small talk, Lance handed the note with the high-level agent's address to David.

"Don't put too much pressure on yourself. If God doesn't want to see him, he might not die even if you shoot him in the head."

"So, it's not your fault. Be careful!"

"And good luck!"

David glanced at the note with the address in his hand, nodded, "I guarantee he won't escape this time, Boss!"