Shadow Empire

Chapter 967 Ninety Million and the Good Guy

After going around in circles, the "decisive role" ultimately returned to Lance.

Diego understood this at that moment.

Lance is the one who controls everything behind the scenes.

A federal mob boss whom he once looked down upon.

The sales representative looked at President Diego with a constipated expression, unsure whether the president was thinking about something or simply felt the task was too difficult.

After all, it would cost seventy to eighty million Federal Sols, which is no small sum.

At the same time, the sales representative himself was also a little curious: is bootlegging really that profitable?

For him, the concept of "making money" is that Lance can lend tens of millions to the Lapa government, but this is not considered a huge fortune.

As a sales representative for a military industrial group, he knew very well that every military procurement plan of the federal government was in the hundreds of millions, with orders often reaching hundreds of millions or even three hundred million, which was no small sum!

Compared to the billions of dollars in military procurement projects every year, Lance's bootlegging business is somewhat insignificant.

However, compared to other businesses, this is already very profitable.

“I’ve kept this price list, and this quote I calculated.” He left behind the table he had written down 200,000 sets of equipment and ammunition. “You can actually see if other companies can give you a better quote.”

“We are a free market, and you have the right to back out before you make your decision and pay the remaining balance.”

"Well then..." the sales representative said, having already packed away everything else. He looked at President Diego, "I'll head back and get ready now?"

President Diego nodded, stood up, and shook hands with him. "Thank you for making this trip."

The sales representative bowed slightly to show his respect for the president, saying, "It's no trouble at all; it's my pleasure to serve you."

This brought a smile to Diego's face; he enjoyed being flattered by the Federation.

He suddenly made a decision.

After the Civil War ends, if he wins it, he will hire a few Union men to flatter him every day.

The feeling of foreigners flattering him was much more pleasant than the flattery of his own subordinates!
After seeing the sales representative off, Diego returned to his office. He picked up the phone, thought for a few seconds, and then dialed Lance's number.

The call was answered quickly; Lance had been waiting for it.

"Lance?"

"Yes, Mr. President."

Diego frowned; Lance's immediate recognition of his identity made him feel somewhat uncomfortable.

This discomfort is like those children who once wanted to prove "they are free," but eventually returned to the path guided or even arranged by their parents, living a life they once thought was hopeless.

He now has this feeling: no matter how hard he tries or in which direction he strives, he will eventually return to where he started and continue moving forward.

Rebellious, yet unable to rebel, this feeling not only made him feel desperate but also a little embarrassed and even ashamed.

It took him several seconds to compose himself. "I've noticed that you've increased your investments in Lapa quite a bit recently."

He didn't bring this up directly, but instead used some maneuvering techniques.

Lance did not deny it, because the ongoing construction sites proved it.

Anyone who goes to the area he has designated will see that while a large number of buildings are being demolished, new buildings are also rising from the ground.

He is building these buildings: factories and residential areas.

Of course, the construction cost of these buildings was not high; the Federal's steel prefabricated construction method was still too advanced for this era.

If they can build a 200-story building, then they can certainly build a 3-5 story or a 6-7 story building.

When the civil war broke out, many businesses and investors halted construction, fearing that if Diego lost and the anti-government forces entered Zoran, they would not recognize the various agreements they had signed with Diego's regime, and their investments would be wasted.

They were also afraid that the war would eventually reach Zhuolan, and that the newly built buildings might be destroyed in the war, so they basically stopped everything, except for Lance.

Even if these steel structures in Lance were damaged, they would still be worth the price of steel.

Diego also knew that Lance was still building various structures and investing in factories. He took a deep breath and said, "It's clear, Lance, that you have high hopes for the future of Lapa."

Lance hummed in agreement. "Yes, Your Excellency the President."

“Lapa had a population of twelve million, but that was in the past. After this civil war and this prolonged famine, it’s hard to say how many people are left.”

"Even if the population is small, there will still be seven or eight million people."

"A huge market of cheap labor, it's more suitable for building all kinds of labor-intensive businesses than the federal government, if you know what I mean."

Diego felt that Lance was looking down on him again. Although he didn't quite understand what "labor-intensive" meant, he still stubbornly insisted that he knew everything!
Lance smiled at his insincere words and did not expose him.

"Your Excellency, what is the purpose of this call you are making now?"

President Diego lit a cigarette, took a deep drag, and seemed to be completely enveloped in the smoke.

After a few seconds, he exhaled the smoke, which had thinned out considerably and contained few floating particles. "Since you're so optimistic about Lapa's future, I have a business deal I'd like to discuss with you."

“That’s interesting. So what do you want to talk to me about?” Lance asked.

“I want to borrow some money from you,” Diego said bluntly, without hiding anything, directly stating his purpose.

He knew that beating around the bush wasn't his forte, at least not with Lance, so he figured it was better to be straightforward and just be honest.

Lance continued, "How much money are you planning to borrow from me?"

Diego was a little embarrassed to speak, "Ninety million."

Lance chuckled twice. "A funny joke. You have a good sense of humor, Your Excellency."

Diego frowned, and his voice rose a little. "I'm not kidding you, Lance!"

There was something about Lance's tone that he didn't like, "I thought you were joking with me!"

Ninety million?

How did you come up with the idea that I could lend you this money?

Diego spoke faster now, not intending to beat around the bush with Lance, so he said it all in one breath: "The sales representative from the Completion Group told me that if I don't have enough money, I can come to you."

After he finished speaking, he didn't say anything more. He tightened his grip on the receiver slightly, as if he wanted to break it!
His face was also slightly flushed. A president borrowing money from a federal businessman—he felt he had completely lost face.

If he could go to the federal government and talk to the president, he would understand that it is a very basic operation for the federal government to borrow money from capitalists, and there is nothing to be ashamed of or embarrassed about.

“Are you serious?” Lance asked.

Diego's tone became slightly impatient. "Isn't this just your trick?"

"Stop beating around the bush, Lance. Let's get straight to the point. What would it take for you to lend me this money?"

Lance chuckled twice more. "Borrowing money isn't a problem, but I didn't know you wanted to borrow so much, ninety million, Para?"

Diego raised his voice, "Don't try to fool me. What I want is the Federal Sol."

"Ninety million Federal Sols, what do you have to offer me as collateral?"

“With so much money and no collateral, I can’t lend you the money.”

At this moment, Diego's first thought wasn't where he could get something to pawn for Lance, but rather, he exclaimed in shock, "You really have it?!"

In his eyes, 90 million federal soles was already an astonishing fortune. Not to mention an ordinary person, even he, the president, didn't have that much cash on hand.

But Lance was able to produce it, which gave him a sense of unreality.

Lance did not answer him, remaining silent. At this moment, silence was the best response.

Diego's brow unfurrowed at the sight of such immense wealth. "What do you want?"

Lance didn't talk to him on the phone. "It's getting late. Let's talk about this face-to-face tomorrow morning. What do you think?" "This kind of issue definitely can't be resolved over the phone."

Diego considered it for a moment and agreed, "Then see you tomorrow morning."

After hanging up, Lance immediately called Senator Cleveland, but unfortunately the senator was out socializing and wouldn't be able to get through until after 10 p.m., so Lance had to wait a little longer.

At 10:15, Lance dialed the senator's estate again, and this time the senator was already home.

Judging from his voice and tone, he must have drunk quite a bit that night.

In federal social interactions, nothing is consumed in one gulp; everyone takes a small sip.

But even a small sip, if consumed in large quantities, is hard for an average person to handle.

His voice was slightly tinged with drunkenness and had a nasal tone, "Some things happened tonight, and they said you called earlier."

He gave a simple explanation, something he had never done to Lance before. Why should a senator need to explain what he does to an ordinary person?
But recently he has begun to explain, which shows that Lance's status is still rising, to the point that Senator Cleveland needs to "actively appease" him.

This is a good sign because it has been proven and taken seriously.

Lance didn't dwell on Senator Cleveland's explanation, which was as meaningless as a girlfriend telling you "he's just my best friend."

Because whatever you do changes these things, and you can't change them anymore.

“Senator, Diego called me last night; he wants to borrow money from me.”

Senator Cleveland was leaning back on the sofa.

The butler brought over a very hot towel and placed it on his face.

The warmth made him feel more comfortable, and he seemed to become more energetic.

Actually, some people are not used to cold things after drinking too much, whether it is cold wind or cold water. Some people even throw up by splashing cold water on their face after drinking too much.

On the contrary, a hot towel, while not able to completely sober you up, can provide some relief from the discomfort of excessive drinking.

He removed the towel and sat up straight. "How much money did he ask you to borrow?"

"Ninety million."

"Federal Sol".

He added a unit, which is more important than the number.

Senator Cleveland seemed to perk up a bit upon hearing this. "Have you spoken to him?"

"Not yet. We agreed to talk tomorrow morning, so I called you first."

"If there are no other issues that need to be addressed, I will speak with him tomorrow, and there is a high probability that we will be able to sign these loan agreements."

Every word Lance said reached Senator Cleveland's ears. He pondered for a while, then said, "I have nothing to add. You can sign with confidence."

"With so much money, we will definitely give you an explanation in the end, no matter what."

"If they don't give you an explanation, then I will!"

Lance chuckled a few times after hearing this. "How could I not trust you?"

"Senator!"

"Then I signed the agreement with him according to what we had agreed on before."

Senator Cleveland said "Okay," and then added, "Remember to contact me if you have any further updates..."

The next morning, Lance's armored vehicle convoy carried him to the presidential office in the presidential palace.

Seeing that Lance seemed to have gained some weight since he last saw him, Diego, in a rare moment of a slightly better mood, joked with him, "Did someone tell you that you've gained weight recently?"

Everyone in Lapa knows that President Diego prefers people who are a little overweight.

The fatter he is, the more he likes him.

Some say it's because when he stands next to people who are fatter than him, people's attention is drawn to the other people.

Whether it's true or not, only he himself probably knows.

The two shook hands, but before their hands separated, Lance patted his chest, making a noticeably deep, hollow sound. "It's not that I've gained weight, it's a bulletproof vest. I have to make sure I'm safe."

"It's too chaotic right now. There have been some serious crimes happening in Zhuolan, such as robbery and murder."

Diego's eye twitched. He released his grip, turned around, and invited Lance, the taciturn young man, to sit down.

After coffee, cigarettes, wine, and other things were served, everyone in the room left, leaving only Madol and Diego's head butler standing not far from the door.

“After our phone call ended last night, I had someone do the accounting, and now I can get the money out, but it's like a bank.”

“I can lend you money, but I won’t take any risks. If you want the money, then you need to provide collateral of equal or even greater value. Otherwise, I can hardly give you any wealth.”

"You want 90 million, and I can give you 90 million, but do you have anything worth 90 million that is internationally recognized and accepted as collateral?"

Diego remained calm. After the phone call last night, he had someone take stock of how much stuff still existed in Lapa, including the artworks in the presidential palace where he lived. They had everything selected and its value calculated.

After calculating, the amount he can currently offer as collateral is around 17 to 18 million, and this includes his estate and its contents.

If you don't count these things, there's actually nothing left in the presidential palace from before.

He wouldn't put his private property on the table as a bargaining chip, because that was his last resort.

If Diego said he only had a few million worth of stuff, Lance would definitely leave, so after thinking for a moment, he said, "Are you interested in mining?"

“There are abundant mineral resources in Lapa. If you are willing to mine, I can arrange to give you more.”

Using the same methods and rhetoric, he treated other people's assets as his own in a transaction with Lance. Whether Lance could complete the handover was not his concern; he had fulfilled his promise, and that was enough.

But Lance shook his head. "I'm not interested in that. Let's talk about something else."

Diego mentioned some things, such as gold bricks and gemstones.

Lance rejected Diego's offer, citing problems with the valuation of these items. Diego, in turn, couldn't accept Lance's ruthless and risky approach. Ultimately, the two sides negotiated for a long time without reaching an agreement.

He talked about many things, such as real estate and franchising, but Lance rejected them all.

Seeing that he seemed to have nothing left to offer, Diego's frustration reached its peak.

"Come on, please!"

“Lance, you should know better than me why we’re sitting here talking today. If there’s anything you want, you can tell me now.”

"Instead of waiting until I've exhausted all means to find something of value, only to be told that this isn't what you wanted."

"Let's keep things simple, don't make them so complicated, okay?"

Lance lit a cigarette and crossed his legs. To be honest, it was a bit impolite to cross your legs and smoke in front of the president of a country, but Lance didn't care, and he believed Diego didn't care either.

“You still have land,” he suggested.

Diego paused for a moment, "You want to buy land?"

He was actually relieved that Lance was going to buy the land, even though Lapa's population density was relatively high in the Alan region.

However, there is still a lot of wasteland.

If Lance really wants land, then we might as well give him more, lest he say that spending 90 million was not worthwhile.

The thought that he could exchange some unclaimed wasteland for 90 million made President Diego feel like he had gotten a great deal!

I should have reported more, maybe 150 million or 200 million?

He looked at Lance with a smile. Lance, the guy he used to find annoying, suddenly seemed handsome and pleasing to the eye.

(End of this chapter)