Empire of Shadows

Hearing about the honey wagon, Alberto immediately became interested, "Are you planning to fill his restaurant with shit?"

"That's indeed a good idea. Who the hell would want to eat in a cesspool?"

Lance denied this possibility. "Although I don't want to disappoint you, if we fill the restaurant with shit, we'll be breaking the law."

"Fines, cleaning up the filth, and maybe even publishing an apology in the newspaper—the costs might be more than he owes you."

Alberto thought about it and agreed with Lance's view. He wanted money and satisfaction, not to pay compensation and apologize himself.

"So, what are you planning to do?"

Lance didn't say it directly, "If you're free around 5:30, you can come over here. I believe he'll be begging for mercy soon."

"Okay, I'll come early. Surprise me, Lance!"

"Call this number, and he'll get you a honey wagon filled with shit."

Seeing that Alberto was about to hang up, Lance quickly asked, "Are you interested in the restaurant's shares?"

Alberto was stunned for a moment. "Although this restaurant is profitable, I know nothing about running a restaurant and I'm not very interested."

Since he wasn't interested, Lance didn't say more. In fact, this restaurant still had great value.

After hanging up, Lance used the number Alberto gave him to find a sanitation service company that contracted a certain area.

One of their jobs was to suck the feces and urine from public toilets into honey wagons and transport them to a special place for processing.

This job is okay to do when the weather is cold, but doing it in the summer is really frustrating!

Even if you don't personally touch the honey wagon's suction pipe, just sitting in the driver's seat and taking a trip will leave you covered in the stench of feces.

So most of the time, honey wagons work in the middle of the night.

Lance communicated briefly, and then went to the place where the honey wagon was parked. The driver was standing in the shade of a tree.

Seeing Lance coming, he didn't intend to shake hands. "You definitely don't want to shake hands with me. Scientists say our kind of work covers us in E. coli from head to toe."

He mocked himself first, and then asked, "So, this… sir, is there anything I can do for you?"

Lance looked at the honey wagon. "There's a job tonight that requires your cooperation. All losses will be borne by the company. You should trust Mr. Cotti."

The driver didn't deny it. "Of course, Mr. Cotti is trustworthy, but what do you need me to do?"

Lance took two steps closer and whispered what he needed to do tonight…

Around four o'clock in the afternoon, Alberto, already unable to sit still, shouted loudly, "Has that bastard Fordis returned?"

"Call him and urge him. I need him to go out with me!"

More than ten minutes later, Fordis ran back from outside, covered in sweat. "This damn weather is getting hotter and hotter. What do you need me to do, boss?"

Alberto put on his clothes, a very thin casual suit, which is also the most bizarre thing about the people of the Federation.

They seem to have no concept of seasons when it comes to dressing. They might be wearing formal suits outside in the summer, but they might also be wearing shorts in the snowy winter.

Of course, for the sake of decency or fashion, they don't care about the seasons at all.

Fordis frowned. "Should we bring a gun?"

"A gun?" Alberto stared at him with wide eyes. "Of course, we're not going to the Presidential Palace, why wouldn't we bring one?"

"You drive. Lance said there will be a good show for me to watch later. I can't wait!"

Fordis drove Alberto to the café Lance had told him about. As soon as they entered, they saw Lance sitting by the window, reading a magazine.

Seeing Alberto come in, Lance stood up to greet him.

He ordered two glasses of iced orange juice and then sat next to Lance. "So… what are you planning to show me?"

Lance glanced at his watch. "Mr. Anderson's restaurant officially opens at 5:30, but there won't be many people at first, so I've scheduled the show for 5:45."

"Around six o'clock, some of the surrounding businesses will have closed, and those people will start looking for places to eat, so this time is just right. We still have to wait a while."

Alberto shrugged. "You're the director, you decide."

At this time, Lance asked another question, "Mr. Cotti, I noticed that the laws of the Federation have relevant clauses regarding usury."

Alberto nodded slightly after hearing this. "So?"

"So, strictly speaking, Mr. Alberto, your business is illegal."

Alberto didn't deny it. "Yes, so even if we sign a contract with Anderson, he can tear up the contract and not pay us any principal or interest, and we have no good way to do anything except cause him some trouble."

Although the Federal government has legislated on the issue of usury control during this period, it has not yet fully paid attention to it.

The current tax rate is high, and the level of consumption is constantly increasing, so people don't have enough money in their hands.

This is also why even banks are starting to actively provide ordinary people with various credit loans, because people really don't have money.

The economy seems to be developing rapidly, but fundamentally, a large part of this rapid development is based on advanced consumption.

Once consumption starts to decline, the entire Federation's economy will be severely damaged.

So even though the Federal government knows the harm of usury to society, in order to let the people have money to spend and not cause trouble for the government, they don't control usury so strongly.

As long as no one is killed or there are no widespread malicious incidents, they will not actively intervene.

Almost every street has several financial companies. If the Federal government really managed them strictly, there wouldn't be so many.

But if you really encounter someone who is willing to sue you, such as Mr. Anderson, Alberto has no good way to deal with it.

Some things are like this: you do it, no one cares about you, but if you put it on the table, put it under the spotlight, you can't ignore it.

This is related to the Federation's positive image and judicial justice, which is the main theme of the Federation's external publicity.

Lance didn't say anything more, just kept this matter in mind, because he found that there was profit to be made in it.

But now is not the time to say this. He still needs some "capital."

In the chat, Alberto talked about the new season of the Baseball League starting in October. He and Fordis discussed it fiercely.

As one of the sports promoted by the Federal government, baseball can be said to be a sport that many people have grown up with.

On this point, the Federal government can be said to be at least not bad. Compared to promoting dancing or reading, it has always been promoting the popularity of highly confrontational sports.

Some people say that this is a conspiracy to make people have stronger stress resistance when facing the exploitation and oppression of capital after they become adults.

But some people also say that this will give people the determination to win and cultivate self-confidence.

But undeniably, baseball is currently one of the most popular sports.

The two people started talking about the batter of this sailing team, and then talked about the main pitcher's wife having an affair and being caught. There was nothing they didn't talk about.

Time slipped away from people so quickly. Unknowingly, it was 5:40.

Lance interrupted the two people's speculation about the championship and their plans on how to buy lottery tickets. "Our show is about to begin, Mr. Cotti. Maybe you'll want to see it happen firsthand."

Alberto glanced at his watch, ended his discussion with Fordis, picked up the little bit of iced orange juice and drank it in one gulp, and then ordered another glass.

"So, can you tell me what's going to happen now?"

The restaurant across the street has turned on the neon lights. The restaurant's name and Mr. Anderson's neon portrait have begun to shine.

The frying pan in his hand was made into a kind of active light strip that can go up and down, which looks like it's cooking.

The sky doesn't get dark so quickly in summer. At 5:30, the sky is still bright, but it's slightly dark, not so obvious.

At this time, a honey wagon slowly drove from a distance. Alberto saw it at a glance.

Lance no longer hid it. "I plan to create a traffic accident. A car will hit the honey wagon, and then it will be knocked over, and then the feces will cover the entire road in front of the restaurant."

"The reporters are also ready, the lifestyle section, the front page of tomorrow's newspaper."

"The driver is one of our own. This kind of traffic accident is not a criminal act. No one will be arrested or detained."

"I asked the driver. Even if they are hit, they have insurance from the insurance company. Even if the insurance company refuses to insure, the repair fee will be at most fifty dollars."

Alberto and Fordis looked at Lance dumbfounded. First, they felt that this person was really terrible, but they also began to be full of expectations!

At 5:40, the honey wagon slowly came to the intersection outside the restaurant. The next second, a truck suddenly rushed out from another corner, maintaining a certain speed, and hit the honey wagon from the side.

The honey wagon, whose center of gravity was originally on top, immediately tilted. The honey soup, which was 70% full in the honey tank, burst out directly from the honey tank opening that was not completely covered at the moment the honey tank fell on the ground. Not to mention the ground in front of the restaurant, even the glass and the inside of the door were covered with various pieces of feces and honey soup.

As a lady's scream sounded, the whole street became lively!

In addition to the lady's scream, Alberto seemed to hear Mr. Anderson's sentence "F*ck"!