Shadow Empire

Chapter 1009 Negotiation, Directives, and Suicide
The consequences of any assassination attempt against a "leader" are extremely serious.

If the assassination succeeds, all will be well, but a large organization may be thrown into chaos temporarily because it will lack someone who can make decisive decisions.

They may not have time to consider who killed their previous leader, or whether the new leader harbored thoughts of purging the old leader and his group, and thus they may have directly or indirectly blurred the issue.

But if the assassination fails, the victim will face extreme rage.

Death is, after all, the most feared end for every life.

Failure means deadly enmity, though that's pretty much the case now.

The Perez family is one of the five major criminal organizations in the federal government, and they have far more overt targets than the Lance family.

From listed companies to certain factories, to countless bars, and their vast direct and indirect family members.

They will all become Lance's primary targets, and at that point, it will truly be a fight to the death.

When Fran's cousin voiced his objections, Fran's expression gradually became somewhat awkward. He turned around, seemingly using this large gesture to ease his embarrassment, "If we can't kill Lance now, are we just going to continue like this with these rats?"

He was furious. His repeated setbacks against the Lance family had made him a laughing stock in the eyes of other major families.

The authority of the Perez family is being challenged and weakened time and again, which is not a good sign.

His cousin pursed his lips. "Right now, Congress and the federal government don't want to see large-scale fighting within the country, so..."

He paused, giving them a buffer period, "My suggestion is that we shrink back now and then deal with them all at once after the war is over."

"Fran, no one thinks we are weaker than the Lance family. They only have the advantage of not being able to fight each other. If we were to give them free rein, do you think we would lose?"

Fran followed his words and thought about it, then shook his head. "Obviously impossible. We have many more men than they do."

The people here aren't just official gang members; there are also some company security guards and similar roles.

If these people don't participate in gang fights, then they are just ordinary employees.

But if you give them a weapon, they can become ruthless gunmen.

Gang fights are all about who's fearless and who has the most men.

If Camilla's gang had sent three hundred or five hundred men instead of a hundred when they attacked Lance and his group of twenty or so in the Triangle District!
No matter how strong Lance and his men's will to resist was, and how fearless they were, they absolutely could not survive.

Fran was gradually being persuaded. "So what do we do now?"

His cousin said, "Let's give ourselves a dignified 'halftime' and put this matter to rest for now."

Fran was still struggling. As one of the five major mafia families in the Federation, he had never been treated like this before!

“Pony’s father will definitely complain!” he emphasized.

Bonnie was injured for the sake of the family and is now unconscious. The doctor's explanation was euphemistic, but to put it bluntly, whether Bonnie can wake up depends on God's will.

As a father, Fran still had some empathy for the direct members of the family. Although Bonnie had a brother, that kid was just an ordinary idiot who couldn't shoulder any responsibility at all.

His cousin smiled and asked, "Which is more important, your immediate family or your extended family?"

"They will understand. Besides, it's not that we don't want revenge, it's just that now is not a good time to take it."

The ban on shootouts is indeed a headache for large gangs, because they are so big that they will inevitably be involved in shootouts.

Didn't you see that neither of Lance's two actions could be considered a firefight in a strict sense?
When everyone follows this rule, the smaller the size, the more flexible the person will be in a limited space.

In the morning, Lance arrived at Senator Cleveland's office, where Senator Cleveland greeted him at the door. After shaking hands, they led him into the office.

“I have heard about what has happened these past few days. You have done a great job and been very restrained.”

The two sat down on either side of his desk, and Tom brought them coffee and some pastries before sitting on the sofa a short distance away.

Everyone here is "one of us," so it's very relaxed and there aren't many formalities.

When do you think the situation in Lapa will stabilize?

Lance placed his hands on his knees. "Before March next year."

"They've been fighting fiercely lately, and both sides are exhausted. At their current intensity, they simply can't hold out for much longer."

"We'll just do a quick sweep and take care of the beginning and end."

“I have contacted some members of large families who have sided with us, and they are also gathering strength, preparing for that day to come.”

Although it was only a few words, it was enough for Senator Cleveland to understand the progress of the matter and the direction of its future development.

He was very satisfied with Lance's handling of the Lapa affair. They had managed to throw the country into chaos with almost no federal government resources, and both sides were rapidly depleting their manpower.

More and more Lapa people are now gathering in the new federal center because the concession is safe, their livelihood is secure, and they can all get a job, more or less.

Compared to the Rapa government and anti-government forces, it is these federal people who are protecting ordinary Rapa civilians. Lance's influence and the Federation's influence are expanding wildly among the people.

"You decide what to do. If you need anything, you can contact me or Tom."

Senator Cleveland then got down to the real reason he had called Lance in today: "Did you see those anti-war protests and marches?"

Lance nodded and said, "I saw it when I passed through the city center on the way here. It's not very big."

“But there are quite a few people!” Senator Cleveland said somewhat angrily, “Several hundred, Lance.”

"Now they've turned their attention to me."

Lance's composure clearly faltered at this moment; he showed a look of astonishment, as if he couldn't believe that this matter could be related to the senator.

"Why don't they blame the military, the Department of Defense, the president, or other senators?"

"Whether or not to start a war is not a decision you can make alone."

Senator Cleveland said with a grim face, "It's probably the most I've been in the spotlight in the last two years, so they're hoping to find a quick target and draw fire."

Lance nodded slightly. If that's the case, then it's quite normal.

It's like... the struggle between workers and capitalists. When most workers protest or march, they will choose a well-known capitalist as their target.

Instead of choosing enemies whose names no one had ever heard of, famous enemies could quickly unite the workers, while unknown enemies could not create external pressure and could not unite them quickly.

Senator Cleveland's name certainly carries weight.

“What do you want me to do?” he asked.

The Cleveland senator called him over this time, certainly not for his own business, but for his own.

Since he mentioned that these people are targeting him, he will definitely retaliate. No one will be passively attacked forever, whether it's a gang or a politician.

Senator Cleveland did not answer the question directly; instead, he asked a seemingly unrelated question: "What's the situation with that truck driver?"

Lance thoughtfully recounted the driver's situation in detail: "He is a middle-aged married man with a terminal illness, three children, a mortgage, other loans, and the pressure of raising three children."

"Cancer, you know, many medical scientists have been researching this recently."

Cancer has existed since ancient times, but people are not very clear about its pathogenesis and fatality mechanisms.

With the development of modern medicine, some diseases that were previously incomprehensible to people have begun to unveil their mysteries and reveal their true nature.

However, as research has deepened, many people believe that cancer is very difficult to cure because of its terrible characteristics. Therefore, once you get cancer, there is basically no way out.

Some medical experts believe that it may take them fifty years to solve the problem of cancer, but in fact, even if it takes a hundred years, they still will not be able to solve the problem of cancer.

Suffering from cancer, burdened with heavy family responsibilities, loans, and children to raise—it was truly a terrible, hellish situation. "I bought the rest of his life for 20,000 dollars."

"If nothing unexpected happens, he will commit suicide soon."

In fact, the driver had wanted to commit suicide for a long time. If he hadn't kept going and wanted to resolve his family's worries before he died, he might have died months ago.

At this point, things have spiraled out of control, and he is in extreme pain every single moment.

The time he spent on this mission was probably the happiest period of his life since he discovered he had cancer, because the almost unreliable, strong painkillers gave him the illusion of being alive again.

He once thought he was cured, until he stopped taking the medication and realized that he had not only not gotten better, but had gotten worse.

He's currently being held in the police station. Once the medication wears off and the pain subsides, he'll end his own life, and the case will be closed at that point.

Senator Cleveland remarked with a hint of emotion, "Twenty thousand dollars. Sometimes people's lives really aren't worth much."

Lance nodded. "Who says otherwise?"

Senator Cleveland sat there, tilting his head and thinking for a while, about two or three minutes, when he suddenly moved, picked up a pen, and wrote a name and an address on a sticky note.

“This guy has been biting me lately, and I’m getting a little annoyed with him. I’m giving him a little warning, but you can’t kill him, but you have to make him feel fear.”

"Also, the day after tomorrow, there will be a group of people at this address, you know what I mean."

Lance picked up the card and looked at it for a while, thinking, "Such a big case will definitely involve us."

Senator Cleveland said softly, "Nobody cares how many people die in a car accident. Accidents happen every day in this world, sometimes here, sometimes there."

"When accidents happen, the only thing people can do is pray!"

This means he has made a decision; he's been getting fed up with these people lately.

Lance nodded. "I'll arrange it."

This brought a relieved smile to Senator Cleveland's face. "Looks like I can finally get a good night's sleep!"

At the end of the conversation, he seemed to suddenly remember something, "Oh right, that Fran guy, he found someone hoping that Congress could mediate again, and you might have to sit down and talk."

Lance stood up and said, "I understand," which was expected.

If we don't fight, we can only negotiate.

Senator Cleveland shook his hand and then saw him to the door of the room. "Tom, could you see Lance out for me?"

Lance could understand why the senator didn't escort him to the door of the house; after all, he was still a bit out of his league.

After saying goodbye to the senator, he walked outside with Tom, who said softly, "He hasn't been sleeping well lately, you know, those... ordinary people, they don't express themselves as subtly as politicians."

“Some of them would organize themselves and, when the congressional session was in session, they would chase after senators on the steps outside the Capitol and yell at them.”

"So... he's a little out of control right now."

In broad daylight, when a senator is insulted, all he can do is walk away faster; he can't refute it, he can't retaliate, he can't do anything else—it's truly frustrating.

If he were just an ordinary person like those who criticized him, perhaps he wouldn't be so angry.

Ironically, he is one of the true masters of this country. At this stage, it is indeed easy for a master to be chased and cursed by a group of the lowest-level tools.

“I understand!” Lance indeed understood. “I’ll handle it. Don’t worry about it.”

Tom hummed in agreement. "You're very experienced, and I'm sure you can do a good job, but you still need to be careful with this."

"Try not to leave any evidence. As long as there is no evidence, no one in the federal government can do anything to you or us!"

Evidence is key.

"I see."

Meanwhile, in the police station's detention room, the driver was clutching his hair with both hands, his expression one of great pain, as the effects of the strong painkiller were slowly wearing off.

That pain, which started to grow from the very core of his being, began to torment him like a curse once again!
He didn't know what bad things he had done to deserve such punishment from God. Whenever he started to feel pain, he wished he could die immediately.

immediately.

But not now, he's still waiting, waiting for news.

After a while, a policeman suddenly came over. He looked at the driver, who was curled up in a circle with his head in his hands and swaying back and forth, and subconsciously thought that he was just very anxious.

The officer tapped the iron bars a few times with his baton. "Your lawyer is here. Do you want to see him?"

The driver looked up, his eyes fierce, so fierce that even the police officer couldn't help but frown.

The driver, enduring the pain, stood up, his body trembling slightly. "I need to see him!"

A few minutes later, he met his lawyer in the reception room.

This lawyer wasn't hired by him, but by Lance. He wasn't there to help him clear his name or anything; he was just there to inform him of something.

After entering the room, the lawyer checked it over to make sure there were no surveillance devices. Then he closed the door and sat down at the table.

He took a piece of paper from his briefcase and handed it over without saying a word.

The train driver picked up the letter and unfolded it with trembling hands. It was his wife's handwriting. They had secretly discussed how to confirm that the 20,000 yuan had really reached his wife's hands, and the secret was in this handwritten letter.

If his wife received 20,000 yuan, he would soon end his own life.

If his wife doesn't receive the 20,000 yuan, he will reveal everything he should and shouldn't say.

In retrospect, the group that contacted him were people who followed the rules.

He read the entire letter. His wife said they received 30,000 yuan, not 20,000 yuan, and the other party promised to take care of their future.

Whether his son was going to work or go to school, the other party would try their best to help them.

The driver actually knew who was "helping" him, and he was genuinely grateful to Lance.

After reading the letter, the pain that had been troubling him seemed to lessen considerably at that moment.

He handed the letter to his lawyer, saying, "Please tell that gentleman my thanks. Although I am just a nobody, I am grateful to him for giving me this opportunity."

Even if a truck driver's salary is higher, maybe 80 yuan a month, 30,000 yuan is still only 8,000 yuan a month.

He would need to work 375 months, or 30 years, to earn 30,000 yuan.

But he won't live for thirty years. If he could live for thirty years, such a good opportunity wouldn't have come his way.

The lawyer remained silent; he simply put away the letter and said, "Remember your promise."

With that, he got up and left.

After the officers took the driver back to his small, private room, he pulled a shoelace from the corner of his clothes, which he had hidden there.

He found a suitable location—the iron fence had two horizontal beams running from top to bottom for reinforcement.

He tied his shoelaces around his neck to the beam, then tried to lie down as much as possible, and the shoelaces tightened around his neck in an instant.

As the feeling of suffocation intensifies, the physical pain and the mental satisfaction seem to be rapidly merging into one.

He could no longer feel the pain; it was as if his whole body was immersed in warm water...

(End of this chapter)