Shadow Empire

Chapter 1218 Seizure
For several days, Lance seemed to make no move, but Christopher became even more suspicious.

He knew what kind of person Lance was, and he also knew very well what methods Lance was used to deal with his enemies.

He hadn't met Lance in all these years, but he had been observing Lance's every move, because Lance was now his biggest enemy in the Federation.

People always say that the person who knows you best is always your enemy, because if your enemy wants to get rid of you, they must study you meticulously to find your weaknesses and ultimately deliver a fatal blow.

Christopher had been observing Lance, but unfortunately he hadn't found anything useful from his observations.

Just like now, he can't see anything, which makes him even more worried.

This feeling was very unpleasant. He didn't know what Lance was doing or what he was going to do. The fear of the unknown had made Christopher unable to sleep well lately.

He needs to drink a few glasses every night before he can fall asleep in a drunken stupor.

Around 10 a.m., sunlight streamed into the bedroom through the partially open curtains. Christopher squinted and slowly woke up from his dream.

He was sweating a little, and when he opened his eyes, he almost instinctively reached under his pillow for the weapon.

The cool touch gave him a sense of security. He sat up, rubbing his hair and cursing.

He had a dream in which Lance sent many people to hunt him down, and under Lance's influence, everyone betrayed him.

Anyone could be the next person to shoot him, or the one to stab him in the back.

He dared not trust anyone, so he could only run away!

The feeling of being surrounded by enemies and fleeing alone is terrible!
He's almost going crazy!
After running for an unknown amount of time, the Pasreto estate appeared before him. His steps faltered, but more footsteps echoed from the darkness behind him, forcing him to run toward the estate he did not want to remember.

There was no one in the manor, but everything was brand new and intact, as if... everyone had vanished the moment he entered!
A feeling of fear lingered around him, and he gasped for breath as he ran toward his villa.

For some reason, the moment he entered the manor, the whole world seemed to go dark. The area outside the manor was shrouded in darkness, and the footsteps hidden in the darkness seemed to stop.

Even so, he still felt a deep fear. The deserted manor, the traces left by people's lives, and the fear of "nothingness" from the deepest part of his soul made him even more panicked than before!

The panic in his heart made it feel like his heart was about to jump out of his chest. He ran, and the sound of his running on the brick road was like an invisible person chasing him. He ran like a madman, running as fast as he could to the outside of his villa.

That familiar house, one that he could never forget even after a long time, appeared before him. The sense of familiarity and longing in his heart gave him a slight sense of security.

He rushed into the room, the footsteps following him stopped abruptly, he breathed a sigh of relief, closed the door tightly, and leaned against it.

But for some reason, he suddenly felt a chill run down his spine. With a look of fear, confusion, and uncertainty on his face, he slowly walked into the living room.

He saw Alberto standing next to the television, smiling and saying something, his mouth opening and closing, but no sound came out.

He took a few more steps forward and saw Paul sitting on the sofa, still wearing the clothes he had worn the last time they met.

A sudden pang of fear from the deepest part of his soul made him want to leave. Just then, everyone, including Alberto, turned to look at him.

He was only a short distance from the gate, but his body just wouldn't listen to him and was no longer under his control.

“Welcome home, Dover,” Paul said with a smile.

What should have been a warm greeting gave him goosebumps!

The next second, the blinding light seemed to tear the entire dream apart, and Paulo and Alberto were ripped to shreds in the light.

On Paul's mangled face, he seemed to read his last, unspoken words—

"I'll wait for you in hell!"

"Fuck!" He slammed his fist on the cup, losing control of his emotions.

"You're a fucking deadbeat, you're not taking me away, and nobody can take me away either!"

"Neither you, Alberto, nor Lance, will do!"

He clenched his fists tightly and pounded them twice more, as if his soul was gradually returning.

He was covered in cold sweat and felt extremely uncomfortable. While he was taking a shower in the bathroom, someone knocked on the bedroom door.

"Dover?"

"What the hell is wrong?" he yelled as he poked his head out of the bathroom, his mood absolutely terrible.

No one would feel good if they dreamed of a ghost they had killed who said they wanted to wait for them to go on their way together.

The person outside didn't seem to expect to be yelled at for simply knocking, but he quickly came to his senses: "Our goods have been seized."

Christopher paused for a moment, then quickly composed himself. "I'm taking a shower. Give me five minutes."

"No problem, I'll wait for you downstairs."

Christopher, his face dark, quickly washed up, changed into a new set of clothes, and went downstairs.

A large crowd had already gathered downstairs, and everyone looked unhappy. When they saw him, they finally breathed a long sigh of relief.

Everyone stood up, and this respectful attitude improved Christopher's mood somewhat.

"what happened?"

Why were our goods detained?

The wine from Sumuli Island has always been declared as "timber," and in the past two years, Christopher has completely smoothed things over with customs.

No complicated methods are needed; bullets plus money will always make someone compromise.

If someone refuses to accept a bribe, their family and children will be threatened with death.

Simple, direct, and no one can withstand such a threat.

Some people were indeed not coerced; they reported the incident to the police, and the police located the sender.

Threatening or intimidating others with bullets mailed through federal mail is not considered a felony unless it carries the maximum penalty, with a maximum sentence of ten years.

Those who are arrested will likely only have two or three years to serve their sentences after being defended by lawyers, and with some maneuvering, they can be released from prison in a little over a year.

However, the person who called the police suffered terrible consequences; their entire family met with an accident.

After this incident, the murderer turned himself in. In court, he claimed that the deceased had made things difficult for him and demanded bribes, which angered him and led to his decision.

Ultimately, this guy was sentenced to more than two hundred years in prison, but he soon died in prison. Of course, whether he really died or not, nobody knows.

In short, Christopher used money and death as means to pave the way, achieving a very direct effect.

All containers and goods from Sumu Island handled by their company are exempt from inspection.

Of course, this is the actual operation. According to the documents and work process, the customs officers still conducted random inspections of their goods, but the results were qualified.

Since he had dealt with customs, he had never worried about his goods being seized, until this moment.

His brother-in-law's lips were downturned. "I called and they said they found contraband in our shipment that hadn't been declared."

"Now let's go to customs and explain the situation."

Christopher pursed his lips tightly and ran a hand through his hair. "How much did we order this time?"

His brother-in-law observed his expression first, then lowered his voice and said, "A thousand barrels."

"A thousand barrels?" Christopher's voice rose considerably. "You fucking said a thousand barrels?"

His brother-in-law could only lower his head and admit it.

This caused Christopher to lose control again. He kicked the coffee table, and the contents of the table fell to the floor. No one around dared to speak.

They knew that it was best to keep quiet when Christopher lost control of his emotions and let him recover slowly.

Someone tried to comfort him before, but he beat them half to death. However, to be fair, the losses this time were indeed very severe!

Because sea freight is not considered "stable," and given that current glass manufacturing processes still have some issues, if everything is packed in glass bottles and shipped in containers, the losses during transit could reach 20-30%.

Furthermore, the wine spilled from these broken bottles produces a strong smell that can be detected from a great distance.

The losses and additional risks mean that these wine merchants use standard 200-liter wooden barrels as containers for their wine during long-distance cross-border transport.

Each container holds 120 barrels, and there are eight containers in total, totaling 960 barrels, with a total value of just over ten million.

Christopher and Leonardo's relationship is not as good as people imagine. He has already paid Leonardo the "cost" of this batch of wine. In other words, regardless of whether the wine was lost or not, Leonardo did not suffer any loss and even made a lot of money.

There is only one person who truly suffered a loss, and that is him!
He has indeed made a lot of money in the past few years, but his expenses are also very high. It can be considered that in the early stage of entrepreneurship, he spends money to pave the way, and the real period of huge profits will come later.

He currently has about 70 to 80 million in his hands. Not long ago, he lost more than 10 million worth of wine, and now another batch has been seized. He is also very distressed!
He kept cursing, and the others didn't know what to say, just quietly waiting for him to finish venting his anger.

A few minutes later, he sat back on the sofa, panting, and ran his hand through his messy hair. "Who detained our goods?"

I want this person's name!

His brother-in-law gave him a name, and after receiving it, he headed straight for the study. Halfway there, he turned back to look at the officials in the living room and said, "Keep an eye on your own people and territory. This might be one of Lance's tactics!"

"Don't give them a chance!"

After saying this, he went into the study and closed the door. Besides him, there was also his brother-in-law, the person he trusted most here.

He sat behind his desk without making a call immediately. His brother-in-law sat opposite him. "Their behavior is very unusual. I'm worried that this isn't their only tactic."

Christopher looked up at him and knew what he meant.

Since customs has decided to abandon cooperation with them, it means that other government departments that have been connected with them will also reopen their investigations.

Christopher sighed. This was the most annoying thing: Lance was gaining more and more influence in the Federation's political arena.

Smuggling and selling alcoholic beverages require law enforcement to turn a blind eye, otherwise the business will definitely not succeed.

Even if they don't cause him trouble, they can still make his business worse by causing trouble for the people who buy his drinks and the people who drink in the bar.

Having grown accustomed to pocketing millions, or even tens of millions, of dollars every month, he simply couldn't bring himself to do a business that only earned tens of thousands of dollars a month.

He nodded, then picked up the phone and dialed his friend's number at customs.

The call was answered quickly. "It's me, Camillo (pseudonym)."

His voice sounded cheerful, without any sign of frustration or anger. The person on the other end of the line paused for a moment and didn't speak immediately.

Christopher didn't say anything more; he just listened quietly. After about ten seconds, a sigh came through the receiver.

“This matter… Camillo, it’s not that I don’t want to help you, but we recently got a new boss, and he personally led the team for this spot check at the docks. It’s difficult for us to get involved in this matter.”

After listening, Christopher asked, "Is this about me?"

There was another silence on the other end, which made Christopher realize that this was definitely targeting him.

"Fuck, you should have told me sooner!" His tone became somewhat impatient.

The customs official on the other end of the phone couldn't help but complain, "I had no idea he was targeting you!"

"You need to understand this: it's almost a given that when a new president takes office, personnel adjustments in various departments are routine. Now that we've changed customs chiefs, how the hell am I supposed to know if this is just a routine adjustment or if someone's trying to cause you trouble?"

I'm sorry your things were confiscated, but this has nothing to do with me!

"Also, if you think you're my boss, then you've definitely misunderstood our relationship, understand?"

"Fuck, Camillo!"

With a bang, the customs officer on the other end of the phone slammed it down, which made Christopher slam his phone onto the stand as well, and then curse a few times.

He cursed for a while and then picked up the phone again, this time dialing a different number.

"I, Camillo, want to know if there's any way to get our goods out, whether it's to me or to return them, it doesn't matter."

On the other end of the phone was another customs official, who was silent for a moment before saying, "This is a difficult matter because you declared timber, but it is actually barrels of liquor."

"Moreover, the amount involved is substantial. They have already reported it to the Prohibition Committee. I've heard, just heard, that they might be planning to set an example."

"As you've probably heard, the new customs chief has to make some achievements, and I can't help you with that."

Christopher's chest heaved violently. He knew what the so-called "typical" meant—this batch of wine would be poured into the sea!

Fake!

"Please contact your customs chief for me; I want to have a talk with him."

The official on the other side was silent for a moment, then said, "It's difficult for me to do that, after all, you..."

"One hundred thousand!"

“It’s not about the money!”

"Two hundred thousand!"

“Camillo…”

"I'll give you 500,000 yuan, I want to see him!"

As it turns out, it really was a matter of money.

Five hundred thousand—even if he gets fired, that's enough for him to live comfortably for the rest of his life.

After thinking for more than ten seconds, the official gave him a definite answer: "I will help you contact the customs chief, but regardless of whether he is willing to see you or not, you have to give me half first."

"I'll contact him after the money arrives. You know the account number!"

Christopher hung up the phone, rubbed his face with both hands, and then looked up at his brother-in-law. "Transfer 150,000 dollars to that account... Fuck, that greedy vulture, I'll make him spit out every last penny he's swallowed!"

His brother-in-law immediately got up to do it; 300,000 for a face-to-face opportunity was indeed not cheap.

The official on the other end of the phone also hung up. After waiting for half an hour, he dialed the bank's number to inquire about the details of one of his anonymous accounts.

The bank responded promptly, depositing 150,000 into the account.

Upon hearing this reply, the official's face lit up with a smile, and he then got up and walked toward the customs chief's office.

Customs has recently made some adjustments. Customs is a vertically managed department. The state government can request the cooperation of Customs, but it cannot interfere with the personnel arrangements of Customs.

The new customs chief is very young, not even forty years old yet. No one has found out who is behind him, but he certainly isn't a bad person.

The Federation is not a place that values ​​seniority, but it is a place that values ​​connections.

Having ability and qualifications doesn't guarantee a promotion, but having connections guarantees one!
Clearly, the new customs chief and these veteran customs officials are not on the same page; otherwise, they wouldn't have suddenly decided to inspect those goods.

He was considering that if the new customs chief decided to carry out a purge of the local customs, he would have to plan his escape route as soon as possible.

Over the years, he has taken money not only from this group of liquor smugglers, but also from other people.

If the other side wants to replace their own people with their own, then rather than being sent to jail after things fall apart, it's better to make a quick buck and get out of there as soon as possible.

He straightened his clothes, knocked on the door of the customs officer's office, and a voice answered from inside.

"Come in!"

(End of this chapter)