Empire of Shadows

The management company was located in a downtown office building, where the directors had gathered for a chat.

Several bottles of wine, each worth hundreds of dollars, were arranged on the table, along with various other drinks and pastries.

The directors seemed to be discussing something particularly amusing, erupting into exaggerated laughter, seemingly unconcerned about the strike at the docks.

Edward (the son of one of the directors) sat beside his father, observing the unrestrained merriment with a sense of surreal absurdity.

"They don't seem at all worried about the situation at the docks," he said to his father.

In truth, he wasn't really qualified to attend the board meeting, but out of consideration for his father's position as a director, and given the high probability that he would inherit his father's shares in the future, he had been allowed to attend this small conference.

The directors, usually so serious and rigid in public, were displaying a side completely different from their public image, indulging in unrestrained and somewhat impolite laughter and banter.

They even made noises while drinking and eating.

His father narrowed his eyes slightly, his lips barely moving as he said, "Just a bunch of workers."

Like the old man himself, they didn't really care about the striking workers at the docks.

This wasn't their first strike, nor would it be their last, and they didn't believe that these people's actions would cause any real harm to the company.

Edward was somewhat perplexed and could only shut his mouth, but he felt that their disregard for the strikers might lead to trouble.

"We'll be holding the first round of negotiations with the union representatives in the next few days," the chairman of the board announced after the laughter subsided, steering the conversation to the day's agenda.

The others quieted down and looked at him.

"Our bottom line is to initially offer a minimum increase of seven percent, but ideally, we should aim for around ten percent."

"Then, the annual service fees should be increased by no less than three to four percent. This will further expand our profit margin, and after deducting the new expenses from the wage increase, the annual operating profit will increase significantly."

A touch of smugness crept into his smile. "This will help our stock market value continue to rise. The market loves stable, growing profits!"

One of the directors voiced some concern, "They may not agree."

Another director chuckled, "Then let the strike continue. They're in more of a hurry than we are!"

He raised his glass. "This city can lose those workers and replace them with another batch of merchants, but it can't do without us!"

The directors unreservedly displayed their arrogance, raising their glasses amidst laughter, a scene that Edward found particularly absurd!

He couldn't understand it. Perhaps this was why his father always thought he was still "a little short." He wasn't a pure capitalist.

Unable to question the other directors, he could only whisper to his father, "Aren't you afraid that pushing the workers too far might lead to something unexpected?"

His father glanced sideways at him. "A cornered lion will eat people, but what will cornered workers do?"

A hint of a smile appeared on his face. "They can only strike!"

He waved his hand dismissively. "Put away your worries. They're much safer than you think."

Someone suddenly asked him, "What are you talking about with Edward?"

The old man smiled and said, "We're discussing some other matters."

Edward forced a smile as well, brushing off the question.

As they chatted and laughed, the board's dedicated secretary suddenly tiptoed in from outside.

He closed the door carefully, walked slightly hunched over to the chairman of the board, whispered something serious in his ear, and then took two steps back, straightening up.

The chairman of the board immediately frowned. "Gentlemen, I apologize, but I have to leave for a moment."

The rotating executive director asked, "Do you need our help?"

He phrased his question cleverly, not directly asking the chairman, "What happened?" in case it was a personal matter.

Instead, he offered to help, demonstrating his willingness to assist.

The port management company didn't have a position like "CEO." The specific operations at the docks were handled by the manager, while the board had a rotating executive director.

The position rotated every three years, giving everyone a chance to serve. This person was responsible for all the company's day-to-day operations and arrangements.

Except for matters requiring a vote by the board members, he could make all other decisions himself.

Even so, each rotating executive director still frequently convened board meetings to prevent the company's development from deviating due to individual judgment issues.

The chairman of the board's face didn't betray any emotion. He was silent for a moment, then said, "Something has happened at the docks."

With that, he adjusted his coat and gave a slight bow, perhaps only three to five degrees, before turning and leaving.

The other directors were stunned. What could have happened at the docks?

Edward's father's expression became slightly more serious. He glanced at Edward, signaling him to find out what was going on.

Edward then got up. The other directors, or their secretaries, also began to rise and walk out of the room.

He went to a separate small room with a sofa set and a bar, stocked with wine and other items.

Many large companies have such small rooms next to their meeting rooms, which can be called lounges or VIP rooms.

They could discuss more private matters here during breaks in the meeting.

Edward picked up the phone, but he couldn't get through to the manager's office, whether someone was on the phone or for some other reason.

Then he dialed his own office, which was located at the docks.

Using the port management company, Edward had indeed made some money over the years. Some people are born at the finish line, and he was one of them.

He could get some resources from the docks and do nothing but transfer them, making a lot of money, let alone if he ran the business himself, he could only earn more!

The phone was quickly answered. It was the manager of his company. "What happened at the docks?"

"I'm not sure, sir. I'll go find out."

"As soon as possible, don't hang up."

He sat there, lit a cigarette, and looked at his watch impatiently a couple of times. He was closer to the people at the docks than the management company's board of directors.

So he never felt that the docks were easy to manage, and once a problem was reported, it would quickly escalate.

Just as he was about to finish his cigarette, and had glanced at his watch twice with some dissatisfaction, there was finally a sound in the receiver.

The manager's voice was a little flustered. "A fight broke out!"

Hearing this, Edward's scalp tingled slightly. "Who fought with whom?"

"The port management company's security guards and some workers. The specific situation isn't clear, but they're fighting downstairs in the company building right now. It's very chaotic. I rushed back to tell you about this, so I don't know much."

Edward sighed. The thing he least wanted to happen had happened.

"Arrange for someone to find out what exactly happened, and keep the phone line open at all times."

He stood up and quickly returned to the meeting room, sitting next to his father. "The security guards and workers had a conflict, and the situation is escalating."

The others had also found out what had happened through their own channels. Almost all of them, like Edward, used their privileged position to let their families make money at the port.

Anyway, they were all making money for others. It was like the warehouses at the docks. Since they were all rented out, wouldn't it be the same to rent them to anyone?

But it was actually different, because their relatives got the warehouses and then sublet them, making extra profits, but everyone was doing it.

Soon the meeting room became lively. The chairman of the board also returned from outside. "They have made three demands."

"First, reduce the daily working hours to ten hours."

"Second, the lunch should have more meat and eggs."

"Third, increase each person's salary by at least one dollar and seventy-five cents."

The entire meeting room was in an uproar. Basically, all the directors opposed these three demands. Reducing working hours, increasing lunch expenses, and raising salaries, these hidden changes actually gave each worker more than one dollar and seventy-five cents in benefits. Of course, they couldn't agree!

The chairman of the board looked at everyone. "Now we have two choices."

"First, suppress the situation and negotiate with them, working to solve the problem."

"Or, suppress them first."

One of the directors immediately said, "If we agree to their demands as soon as they make trouble, even if it's just temporary negotiations, I can already imagine how difficult our work will be in the future."

"We can give them a raise, but we can't reduce working hours or increase benefits. They can only choose one."

"Call Charlie."

The chairman of the board looked at the others, and they all expressed their opinions, agreeing to suppress the matter first, and then work to solve it.

They had to appear tough, only in this way could they take the initiative in the labor-management confrontation.

The chairman of the board looked at the executive director, who showed a humble smile on his face, but didn't have a single good word in his heart.

He went directly to the next room and quickly came out, returning to his seat. "Charlie said he will take care of it soon."

The chairman of the board nodded very reservedly. "Then let's continue to discuss the fee issues..."

In their opinion, this was perhaps just a small matter.

The wharf management company was one of the most important local forces in the Bay Area. Many big capitalists were involved. Charlie didn't dare to be negligent and quickly called Hunter, asking him to mobilize manpower to the wharf to resolve the dispute.

Now the whole city was in chaos. The city police department couldn't mobilize so many people on its own, so he could only ask each branch to send a portion of their personnel.

This included the Empire Precinct, and he even requested that the Empire Precinct send the most people, because at this time, the Empire District had one of the best public security records.

Before mobilizing, Precinct Chief Blue called Lance to explain the situation, and then began to arrange the police deployment.

He warned the police officers to just stand outside for a while and not to go inside under any circumstances.

Although he didn't know why they shouldn't go inside, he knew there must be a reason.

The riot at the wharf was gradually evolving into a commotion. Many dockworkers didn't even know how it had happened. All they knew was that the wharf management company was attacking their fellow workers and trying to suppress the strike!

In an instant, the already angry workers finally stopped being silent. They began to actively attack the management company, and some workers' greedy desires were released!

In fact, the worker representatives hadn't even discussed the idea of taking things from the warehouse with them, but they didn't need to say it at all. These workers had already started doing it on their own!

They were very familiar with the wharf and knew which warehouses or containers had good things. They had special tools to open those containers as easily as playing.

The security guards had to protect the office building and the staff inside while also trying to deal with the theft problem. The conflict between the two sides was constantly escalating.

As a large number of police cars arrived at the port area, Precinct Chief Blue got out of the car and looked at the completely chaotic wharf. He took off his hat, looking shocked!

Everywhere were workers and security guards 'fighting'. They were in groups of three or five, beating each other, and everywhere were greetings expressing a desire to be the other's father.

Precinct Chief Blue stood at the entrance of the wharf, looking at the others with a bewildered expression. "What do we do?"

Hunter was also here. He was not yet the chief, and he had discussed this issue with Charlie. He needed to appear more authoritative in order to better control the entire Goldport City police system later.

For him, the Bay Area's instructions were everything!

He straightened his wide-brimmed police hat, which represented justice, and the police badge reflected the light of technology under the streetlights.

"What are your batons for?"

"Separate them and control these workers."

One police officer asked, "What if they resist?"

Hunter stomped his foot. "If he hits you, won't you fight back?"

He added, emphasizing, "You can use batons, use other weapons, but remember, don't shoot!"

"Whoever shoots will bear the consequences!"

There were too many workers at the wharf. Once "blood was drawn by gunfire," the situation would only become more uncontrollable, and it would be a nightmare!

Although the people who could decide whether he would truly be the chief lived in the Bay Area, these workers also had ways to prevent him from becoming the chief, by sacrificing their lives!

Precinct Chief Blue took his men and actively chose a relatively distant area. He didn't want to cause trouble. These people were pawns in the game between Lance and these big shots. He was too weak.

Even if he was just pinched lightly, he wouldn't be able to bear it.

Hunter didn't say anything about Precinct Chief Blue's 'escape', but he remembered it in his heart. After he took office, he would get rid of all these disobedient people!

At this time, there were already a large number of reporters here. George (columnist for 'Goldport Today') had called many good friends in the media.

Many of them were national media outlets, such as newspapers like 'Federal Daily', 'Federal Post', and 'Special Zone Post'. These newspapers had a certain influence throughout the Federation and even the world!

For these reporters, what they feared most was that society was becoming more and more civilized!

If there were no wars in the world, people were humble and polite, and no unfriendly conflicts occurred, and everyone obeyed the law, then they would very likely all be unemployed.

So sometimes they were the ones who most wanted the world to be in chaos, because only freedom and chaos provided enough news to report, and only then could they gain fame and fortune!

As a large number of police officers began to enter the scene, they initially asked the fighting parties to separate, but when these people didn't listen to them, some police officers lost their temper.

They held the officers and beat the workers, hitting them on the head and joints. They knew where to hit to cause the most pain!

With the addition of the police, the workers began to retreat, not because there were many police, but because they were afraid of the uniform the police wore!

The workers dared to confront the security guards, but they didn't necessarily dare to confront the police, even though they were all people, even though they all had one nose and two eyes.

Johnny was holding a stick and knocked down a security guard. Several workers ran over. "The police are here, helping them beat our people."

Johnny spat out a mouthful of bloody saliva. He had punched someone a few times in the face.

His cheek was cut, and now it was swollen. Every time he opened his mouth, he would bite his cheek, which caused the swollen area to become heavier and heavier, and the wound to become more and more severe.

Johnny looked at them, widened his eyes and asked, "Are there more of them than us?"

Johnny didn't know how many people were at the wharf now, but there were definitely more than the current security guards and police!

Unless all the police in Goldport City came at this time, they would not be able to control them at all.

The two workers who came shook their heads, "There aren't more of them than us."

Johnny cursed and turned to walk outside, "Then what the hell are you afraid of?"

When he came to the outermost area, some of his fellow workers had already been pressed to the ground. He suddenly rushed over and kicked a police officer away, and then hit the other person with a stick!

When the other workers saw how brave Johnny was, and in this situation full of courage and blood, they also rushed up!

The situation, which had been slightly under control, once again spiraled out of control, and the scene became even more chaotic!

At this time, Hunter, standing in the high ground behind the crowd, curled his lips. "Who is that person?"

The wharf police officer next to him said, "This person is called Johnny. He used to be a bully, and this strike was caused by him."

Hunter nodded slightly, "He's a tricky character. Are there other people behind him?"

Seeing the wharf police officer's hesitant look, Hunter knew that this matter might not be simple. "Who is it?"

The wharf police officers belonged to the port precinct, but they had a special office on the wharf and were also under the management of the city police department.

Under Hunter's gaze, he said that name.

"The Lance family."

When a police officer was knocked down, people lost a lot of their fear of the police, and because of the police's intervention, the situation on the wharf became even more chaotic.

Hunter took the cigarette out of his mouth, threw it on the ground, and stomped on it hard with his heel. He found a phone booth and called Charlie, who was waiting for news.

"It's no use without guns. They've started fighting back."

"And I think someone is stirring up trouble behind this."

Charlie frowned, "Don't shoot, withdraw first, don't let the situation spread."

He paused for a moment, "Who is that person you're talking about?"

"Lance…"