Shadow Empire

Chapter 1030 Artworks and Residual Heat
"You can ask Edward about this; he'll tell you what to do."

Senator Cleveland paused beside a collectible, looking at it, and Lance turned to look at it as well.

This is a large collection; it looks like half a wall standing there, with some carvings and paintings on it. In front of it are some primitive human models that look like mannequins.

But calling them mannequins isn't quite accurate, because they look... kind of real.

Viewing this exhibit from outside the red line is like observing a typical day in a tribal community.

The people of the tribe were going about their work, with a small number of warriors guarding the chief.

Lance noticed the chieftain's crown, which was covered with various feathers, and the "throne" beneath him, which was made of countless animal bones.

The chieftain rested one elbow on the armrest and leaned to one side. Because the throne of bones was not very high, his knees were not naturally level with his pelvis as when sitting in an ordinary chair, but slightly raised, like a half-squat, as if he could suddenly stand up at any moment, full of intimidation and aggression.

Lance carefully examined the artwork, then looked toward the Cleveland Senate.

Senator Cleveland seemed to notice Lance's gaze and turned to look at him. "This is a great work of art, and its name is 'Power'."

As he spoke, he looked down at the ground in front of him, and Lance noticed that there was something like an information board with a photograph on it, the content of which was exactly the same as what was being displayed here.

Senator Cleveland continued, "They took a picture of him, then killed him, and skinned him and the people around him, making them look like this."

“Just because of an adventurer who took their picture…” Senator Cleveland shook his head, then looked at Lance, “…that adventurer said that if we just brought back this throne of bones, people wouldn’t be able to imagine its power, and we had to bring back the chieftain as well.”

"Then the adventurers around him killed the chief and more than a thousand people in his tribe, and skinned them and made them into works of art."

"This artwork caused a huge sensation when it was exhibited more than a hundred years ago."

"Many people travel by train or even ship from other countries to the Federation just to see it and feel its 'royal aura'."

"What do you think?"

"Can you feel the regal aura it exudes?"

Lance took two more steps, and only then could he clearly perceive that the outer skin that felt so real was tanned and well-maintained human skin, which must have been filled with a lot of stuff inside.

The lack of attention to detail shows that the people here are trying their best to maintain its current state. However, some parts have begun to deteriorate due to the passage of time. It's uncertain whether this artwork can be compared to other similar products.

Hats, boots, bags, and trousers made from the original indigenous leather will continue to be preserved.

Lance shook his head. "The moment it was moved here, it lost its regal aura."

"Perhaps the adventurer originally wanted to show civilized society the kingly aura of primitive society, but now, it is actually civilized society showing civilized people how civilization can eat people. This is not a work of art, it is a trophy."

"A trophy to showcase the conquest of the advanced over the backward, civilization over barbarism, and guns over cold weapons!"

Senator Cleveland was somewhat surprised; he hadn't expected Lance to think so clearly. In fact, he had asked many people about their feelings after seeing these things.

Some people think it's wonderful; they can find countless touching moments in this artwork, making them feel that it is the most beautiful thing in the world.

Some people think this artwork is terrible because it is made of real human skin, which makes people feel an instinctive sense of disgust.

The most outrageous thing is that after viewing this artwork and learning that it was made of real materials, one person actually vomited on the spot!
Senator Cleveland had anticipated many possible reactions from Lance, such as flattery, in which he would say something nice to elevate his previous remarks.

He might also say some critical things to prove that he is still a normal human being.

But he never expected Lance to say such things from a higher perspective; sometimes he didn't even think about it that way.

He glanced at his chief aide beside him, then smiled and said, "That's the interesting thing about works of art; everyone who sees it will have their own thoughts and opinions."

“You’re right, Lance. You’ve shown me another side of you.”

"From our perspective, whether it's letting Edward manage that stock or the war against Lapa, we are essentially doing the same thing as our ancestors."

"conquer!"

He continued walking forward, saying, "I have high hopes for you. You have a quality that others don't have. You can calmly see through the false nature of this world and also see its most authentic side."

"I will stop worrying about Lapa and leave it entirely to you. You don't need to keep reporting to me like this."

"You just need to tell me how you did before the final moment arrives."

“I don’t care about Diego and the Lavila family’s affairs, but I think that since we conquered a civilization, shouldn’t we leave something behind for this art museum?”

Even as he left, Lance was still thinking about what Senator Cleveland had said.

In fact, he knew.

I know how twisted the people of the Federation, especially the upper class, can be.

The Red Heels nightclub scandal only reveals the shallowest layer of the perversion within the federal upper class. Sex, abuse, and murder—crimes that may seem extremely serious to most people—are merely a small fragment of the sordid side of high society.

Because compared to the massacre of civilizations and the massacre of races, this act of committing crimes against individuals becomes their most insignificant crime.

Lance had heard a very interesting saying before—

A true member of the upper class will never be brought to justice for committing a crime.

Because once they reach their class and their level of achievement, the law can no longer have any effect on them.

The only ones who can truly defeat them are themselves.

In retrospect, this statement may still be too conservative.

"What are you thinking about?" Tom asked as he drove.

He is not yet qualified to have a private driver. It's not that he can't afford one, but as a senator's aide, he needs to maintain a certain level of discretion.

It's like those famous opera singers; although they are also very wealthy and have a certain social status, they all maintain a low-key lifestyle.

They rarely act like ordinary people; they don't want people to realize that their comfortable lives are built on the foundation of ordinary people, and officials should be the same. Lance snapped out of his reverie and looked at the bustling city under the blue sky and white clouds. "No, I was just thinking about what to do next, and whether our President Diego will follow our wishes and complete his final performance."

Tom couldn't help but chuckle. "You make it sound so artistic, just like an artist!"

Lance chuckled and added, "After all, we just came from an art museum; we should have experienced some artistic influence, right?"

Tom chatted with Lance about some recent events in New Gold City with a smile, and then took him to Edward's place.

Edward's company occupies a huge building of more than 30 stories in the most prosperous area of ​​Detland. They rent out part of the ground floor, but from the 20th floor onwards, it is their own office space.

Under the surprised gaze of the pretty elevator attendant, he was led to a separate elevator with what appeared to be gilded door frames.

"The president is waiting for you!" As the elevator doors slowly opened, she stepped into the elevator and invited Lance to come in as well.

Under her control—actually, there wasn't much to do, since there were only two buttons on the elevator.

There's a button on the top floor, and another one on the top floor. Perhaps this reflects the attitude of federal capitalists, those financial capitalists.

Even something as simple as an elevator button, they are so rich that they don't want to press it themselves.

About a minute later, the elevator slowly came to a stop, and the feeling of weightlessness was barely perceptible.

She opened the elevator door and stood outside. "The president is at the end of the corridor..." she said, then bent down, revealing her ambitious career aspirations.

Lance said thank you and then walked towards the door. It was a corridor about ten meters long, with no decorations on either side, but everything about it looked dignified.

The ground is paved with alternating pure white and pure black marble, with gold filling the spaces between the bricks, making it look like a giant chessboard.

The walls on both sides were also pure white and without any decorations, as was the ceiling, but there were some gold decorations that made the place look exceptionally luxurious.

As he approached the door, the office door slowly opened, revealing President Edward standing before the huge floor-to-ceiling window, a cigar dangling from his lips.

When he turned around and saw Lance, he was walking over with a cigar in one hand and loudly laughing.

Lance had expected Edward to come and shake his hand, but instead of shaking hands, President Edward embraced him instead, catching him off guard. Nevertheless, he hugged Edward back.

"Lance, Lance, Lance!"

After releasing Lance, he waved his hand, and the two young girls who had just opened the door bowed and left the room through another door.

"Come, sit down here."

In one corner of the room, and in another corner, there is a sofa set, next to which is an equally huge floor-to-ceiling window, offering a panoramic view of a large part of the city.

If there weren't so many tall buildings around, perhaps we could see even more.

"I'm going to build an even taller building sooner or later!" he said, pursing his lips, seemingly annoyed that the building next door was slightly blocking his view.

"Let's not talk about this anymore, please sit down."

"The senator has already called me, and I know why you're here."

"Actually, you are being too cautious. War is not a bad thing for us. On the contrary, it makes it impossible to verify many things."

"For example... we've acquired several more high-yield mines, which will increase our revenue next year, and incidentally..."

He raised his hand, which was holding a cigar, and shouted, "We're going to have a profit-sharing ceremony!"

Federal corporations distribute dividends to all shareholders each cycle, according to their own internal regulations.

A company's dividend payout determines its influence, and recently some investors in the secondary market have been inquiring about dividends.

Seeing that Lance didn't show any surprise, President Edward was slightly taken aback, but quickly concealed his surprised expression.

“Based on some of the plans we gave us before, I have made a profit-sharing scheme.”

It was clear that he had prepared very thoroughly. The items were placed on the coffee table, and he casually picked one up and handed it to Lance, gesturing for Lance to take a look. "If there's anything you don't understand, feel free to ask me, and I'll explain it to you."

Lance said "thank you" and then began to look through the document.

In fact, the contents of the document are not complicated. According to Hope Mining's current commitments to society and the financial reports it presents to the public, their profits last year should have been close to 20 million.

Even among listed companies, this is not the lowest figure, but rather a median.

Logically, they should distribute six million as dividends to 30% of the circulating shareholders, but the company has decided to continue investing in more mining resources this year.

Therefore, the company has decided to lower its dividend payout ratio, distributing only one million in dividends over two years, with the remaining funds used to purchase new resources. The company expects its mid-year profit to exceed thirty-five million.

After reading through some information that wasn't actually that important, Lance put it on the table. He looked at President Edward's "come and ask me" expression, thought for a moment, and asked, "So, we need to acquire more mineral resources next."

In a statement of certainty, President Edward, though somewhat guessing that Lance understood his plan, was still surprised by Lance's intelligence.

He nodded and replied, "Yes, huge dividends and profit potential, as well as the company's future growth potential."

"If we distribute these two million as dividends, the company's stock value will skyrocket again."

"And I hope you can do one thing."

Lance asked, "What?"

"Let Hope Mining's representatives, and their president, what's his name again?"

Diego.

"As for Diego, sign an agreement with him to transfer state-owned assets, let him contribute his last bit of energy..."

(End of this chapter)