Empire of Shadows

Hammer was a very common worker on the docks, as common as his name suggested.

He had the bad temper that most dockworkers had, finding fault with this or that all day long. Someone was always managing to annoy him.

He never thought it was his own problem. If he had a problem, why would someone else make him unhappy, instead of him making himself unhappy?

Recently, his mood had been even more unstable because all the bars had stopped selling alcohol, but at the same time, they were telling them that if they were willing to pay a little more than usual, there were places where they could buy alcoholic beverages.

Hammer went. A glass of the worst beer cost fifteen cents, the kind he usually drank cost twenty cents, and if you wanted to add an ounce of cheap whiskey, it would cost forty cents.

Too damn expensive!

He only made thirty-seven dollars a month. If he exchanged it for beer... he had his son calculate it. It was only ninety-two "bombs."

Since when had having a drink become so difficult?

But he couldn't not drink.

There was nothing more relaxing than sitting at the bar after a long day, having a "bomb" while watching those young, beautiful girls take off their clothes one by one.

Right, the beer had to be cold, but not with ice cubes. Some idiots wanted beer with ice cubes. They were so stupid.

Maybe this was one of the few times Hammer used his brain. If he had used his brain a little more when he was studying, maybe now... No, even if ordinary people studied, unless they could become one in a hundred, their results wouldn't change much.

"Damn those damned immigrants!" The huge wrench weighing twenty or thirty pounds in his hand made him feel like his arms weren't his own, but he still had to keep working.

He held the wrench while his workmate swung a hammer, hitting the head of the wrench to tighten the fist-sized bolts.

This was one of their daily tasks, every day!

Because of the vibration, or some other reason, the bolts would loosen a few threads every day. It wasn't a big deal if they weren't dealt with, but they were afraid of what might happen, so they needed to retighten the bolts within their work area every day.

It seemed like a light job, and it was done by two people working together, but only when you actually did it did you realize how bad it was.

In the summer, they had to work in the scorching sun, and in the winter, they had to work in the biting cold wind. The only slightly comfortable spring and autumn would leave them too tired to speak due to the heavy physical labor.

Now that the only beer that relieved fatigue had become expensive, he could only complain.

His companion raised his hammer high and brought it down heavily, with a clang that made Hammer's hands go numb.

"Fack! Fack all the immigrants!"

His colleague stopped, laughing. "So we're here in the sun. What does that have to do with immigrants?"

Hammer also released the wrench. "If it weren't for these sons of bitches, do you think they'd only give us thirty-seven dollars a month?"

He widened his eyes, his tone of voice explosive. "These sons of bitches are willing to work for thirty dollars. If they hadn't repeatedly let the vampires know that they could find workers without needing so much money, I'd have at least fifty dollars a month now!"

He sat on the bollard next to him, using another one as a footrest, slightly panting. "Instead of thirty-seven dollars a month!"

His companion also put down the hammer, resting for a while. "You have a point."

"Right? A lot of people don't think I'm right."

"Think about it. If they offered forty-eight dollars a month and no one was willing to do it, wouldn't they have to keep raising the price?"

"Actually, as long as we all hold back and can unite and not accept their current wage offers, they'll have to raise our wages."

"But you see!" He pointed to the workers in the distance who were standing by the ship, using cloths or tools to clean the hull. "These sons of bitches are willing to do it for a dozen dollars. How can you expect the capitalists to raise our wages?"

His colleague didn't know how to refute him. He felt that this argument was wrong, but he just didn't know how to refute it.

Moreover, they were colleagues, not him and those immigrants, so he stood on Hammer's side. "These people have indeed ruined our happy life."

Hammer's point of view was recognized, and he immediately became happy. "Want to go for a drink after work tonight?"

"I recently found a new tavern. It's only forty cents for a large glass of beer plus an ounce of whiskey, and there's free striptease!"

In fact, the price was only five cents cheaper than the place they usually went, but five cents was still money.

Given their high-intensity patronage, they could save at least a dollar a month, which would allow them to have two more carefree days.

His companion nodded. "We can try it. Recently, I suspect that the female dancer at the place we usually go has a disease. There's always a faint, musty smell."

"You smelled it too?" Hammer showed some surprise. "I thought it was just me."

The two looked at each other and shuddered.

"You hate immigrant workers so much. Have you reported them?"

It was no secret among the dockworkers that Hammer liked to report things. As long as he felt that something made him uncomfortable, he would report it.

He had reported capitalists, colleagues, and even the union. This also meant that he didn't have many friends. Only a few of his colleagues who partnered with him were on good terms with him.

Of course, others could only say that their relationship was average, neither good nor bad.

His colleague asked while picking up a small hammer and tapping the nuts under his feet.

The loosened ones could be tapped and had a noticeable shaking feeling. These were the ones that needed to be retightened.

Those that were not loose would not have any shaking.

Hammer had to get up. "I reported them. The people at the union said my report had no evidence."

His colleague was a little curious and looked up at him. "What did you report them for? Why did they ask you for evidence?"

"Illegal immigrants."

His colleague showed a "you must be sick" expression. "If they knew you were doing this, you definitely wouldn't have a good time."

"These illegal immigrants are sometimes very scary."

Hammer smiled, his smile contemptuous. When anti-immigrant sentiment was at its worst some time ago, he had beaten up several immigrants or illegal immigrants.

His colleague had now tapped a loose bolt. He picked up the wrench, walked over, and squatted down. "I'll tell you a secret. Actually, I've beaten up a few immigrants. They didn't dare to resist. I vented my anger!"

His colleague shook his head slightly. "That's very dangerous."

"They're much more cowardly than you think!" Hammer's hands went numb again from another strike. "Fack!"

Working with Hammer meant getting used to his complaints.

He complained all afternoon, complaining about this and that. In short, it was all the fault of others and society. Only he was innocent.

His colleague couldn't stand it anymore and asked him to shut up and rest a few times, but he would start saying all sorts of nonsense again after resting for a short while.

Seeing that it was almost time to get off work, the two began to work a little more seriously.

After the foreman came over and made a round, they put away their tools and walked towards the dock building. Today's work was over.

Hammer and his colleague took a shower and changed their clothes. As they were leaving the dock, preparing to go to the bar for a drink, someone suddenly approached him.

"Mr. Hammer?" A short young man stood not far from him.

Hammer was very familiar with his accent, the accent of an Imperial, so an impatient expression immediately appeared on his face. "What is it?"

"I want to talk to you," Ervin said in a slow voice. "I promise I have no malice."

But Hammer didn't accept this. "I have nothing to talk about with Imperial bastards." With that, he was about to walk past him. He had obvious prejudice against Imperials.

It's just that at this time, racial or regional discrimination was not an issue that could provoke social condemnation. Slaves had just returned to society, and many elderly people had even kept slaves in the past.

In addition, slaves were still fighting for the right not to be discriminated against and prejudiced against, so discrimination was not treated as an unforgivable phenomenon.

Discrimination was discrimination. No one thought it was wrong, including the people who were discriminated against.

Ervin reached out to stop him and talk to him again. Lance had asked him to deal with these reporters, and he had come with sincerity.

However, it was clear that Hammer, like his name, often didn't use his brain to think. Seeing that this little bastard was going to stop him, he threw a punch.

To the "wow" of his colleague, Ervin was knocked backwards, his head buzzing!

He was stunned by the punch!

A punch from someone who did heavy physical labor all day was not light.

Seeing Ervin vomiting on the ground, Hammer walked over and kicked him again, knocking him down completely.

Some people gathered around. His colleague was afraid that continuing to hit him would cause trouble, so he took the initiative to stop him. "I'll buy you a drink tonight. Don't cause me any trouble!"

"He's already down. That's enough!"

Hammer struggled for a moment, but couldn't break free, so he gave up his plan to continue the violence. Then he spat, "Consider yourself lucky!"

Under his colleague's consolation, the two left the dock.

The others left one after another when they saw that there was nothing to see.

As for Ervin?

They didn't know him. Who would mind their own business?

It wasn't until the immigrant workers also started to get off work that someone discovered Ervin.

He often appeared near the labor dispatch center. Many illegal immigrants at the docks obtained their work permits from there, so they knew Elvin.

Immediately, several people picked him up, but he had already fainted.

Some moved him to the roadside to care for him, while others ran to the office…