Empire of Shadows

“Damn it!”

Around nine in the morning, Director Dale, sitting behind his desk, picked up the newspaper and couldn't help but curse.

The headline on the front page of today's "Goldenport Today" was "Major Construction of Naval Base," accompanied by a photo taken from a slightly elevated position, providing an overhead view.

The entire open field was densely packed with people, resembling an overturned ant nest, with refugees everywhere, removing anything taller than the ground.

This included digging out the roots of trees and discarding them.

They would unearth everything they could find and throw it far away, ensuring there wasn't too much debris, wood, or stones.

After leveling, they would begin compacting the ground, followed by formal construction.

If the newspaper had only reported these facts, Director Dale wouldn't have been so angry, nor would he have uttered such foul language while reading the newspaper in his office.

What truly infuriated him was the photo on the second page: Lance, dressed impeccably, being interviewed by a reporter in the sunlight.

He acted like… an outstanding individual, radiating a brilliance that rivaled the sun!

So dazzling that Director Dale couldn't help but feel a surge of resentment.

He had heard that Lance had also made some headway in Congress; he had even attended a small gathering of senators!

Bullshit! Director Dale himself hadn't attended many such gatherings, so why was it so easy for Lance?

He couldn't understand; wasn't this guy just a mafia boss?

In the report, Lance spoke eloquently, explaining the reason for employing so many refugee workers—

He actually said that he didn't want anyone else in Goldenport to starve to death because they couldn't afford food, and although he knew he couldn't achieve that completely, he would continue to strive in that direction.

Therefore, almost all the workers this time came from refugee communities.

At least twenty thousand families had benefited from his care, and at least sixty thousand people would no longer be plagued by hunger. This leader of a mafia criminal organization had actually become a "great philanthropist"—it was the funniest joke Director Dale had heard all year.

But behind the feeling of absurdity was a kind of dejection he couldn't express.

This was actually the "script" he had once fantasized about, his own "script."

Lance was now like someone on a fast train, rapidly advancing along an upward trajectory, because he had gained the attention and importance of higher-ups; he had been given an opportunity.

Before Director Dale came to Goldenport, he had thought the same way.

He would gain the favor of the big shots through his own efforts, then be promoted to the state Alcohol Beverage Control, and then, due to outstanding performance, return to Gold State.

However, he had misjudged the problems in Goldenport and had to admit that he had overestimated his abilities, so not only had he not gained an opportunity for advancement, but he was also struggling on the brink of life and death.

Compared to Lance, who had already gained momentum, he was more like a piece of trash.

Once Lance had established himself, it would be very difficult to take action against him, especially since he now had some connection with the Department of Defense.

Director Dale certainly knew that the construction of the naval base was a Department of Defense project. Lance doing the preliminary work here meant that he definitely had connections with the Department of Defense, direct connections.

Otherwise, he wouldn't have had the opportunity to do this work at all.

The leader of the largest local mafia, whose network had already reached Congress and the Department of Defense, was also an ally of the mayor, and his fiancée was a local landowner.

He had stacked almost all the possible attributes, for an illegal immigrant.

To the point that Director Dale didn't even know if he could touch him now!

If he did something that affected Lance's work for the big shots, and the big shots became slightly dissatisfied with him, it would be a catastrophe.

He had already experienced several catastrophes, and being able to withstand them could be considered a testament to his ability, but he couldn't find a way to remedy things every time; eventually, he would be unable to withstand it, and then he would likely be crushed, becoming nourishment for others to grow.

But the problem was that Lance had already become the largest distributor of smuggled alcohol in Goldenport and even the surrounding areas.

A large amount of alcohol flowed into the market through him, and if he only chased after the ball, then he might not be able to truly catch up with the ball in his lifetime.

As long as the person kicking the ball was still there, the more he did, the less meaningful it would be.

Doing it wouldn't work, and not doing it wouldn't work. This was the most difficult problem Director Dale had encountered in his life; he couldn't do it well.

After cursing a few times, he didn't cheer up because of it; instead, he became even more listless.

He leaned back in his chair, looking somewhat颓废, unable to muster any enthusiasm.

It wasn't that he was really afraid of Lance. Before Lance had reached this point, he had investigated everything he should have investigated, and he had arrested many people, not giving Lance any face at all.

But now, he really couldn't do it.

He really wanted to ask God, what should he do!

While he was feeling颓废, the office door was knocked. He immediately changed his sitting posture, tidied his appearance, and then said in a deep voice, "Come in."

At this moment, he sat straight behind his desk, and Ponda walked in with a document. Director Dale nodded slightly in greeting, inviting the other party to sit across from him. "What is it?"

Ponda sat down and handed over the document in his hand. "This is information recently provided by an informant. He saw people unloading goods in the Triangle District at night."

"He approached to take a closer look and smelled a strong aroma of alcohol. There might be a warehouse there."

Director Dale casually flipped through the report, finding the information Ponda mentioned. He quickly scanned it and then asked, "What do you plan to do?"

Ponda immediately became filled with passion and courage. He said loudly, "We should raid this warehouse. It should belong to the Lance family; only they have warehouses everywhere in the city."

Director Dale opened his mouth, wanting to say, "Don't you fucking cause me trouble," but he couldn't bring himself to say it.

After hesitating for quite a while, he asked, "How can you be sure it belongs to the Lance family and not some other small gang?"

There were still many small gangs operating bars in the city. The power of the five major families, except for the Pasreito family, had all ended.

However, the middle and lower-level gangs had survived.

However, constrained by the fierce aura of the Lance family, they didn't dare to break the relationship and cause trouble rashly. Lance and his gang were not to be trifled with.

They didn't dare to compete with the Lance family for territory, but they had no scruples about selling alcohol.

Lance hadn't said that other people weren't allowed to sell alcohol in Goldenport, so it obviously didn't violate any rules.

Unknowingly, Lance's words had also become the rules of Goldenport. Those who followed the rules strived to move up and finally became the rule-makers.

Director Dale didn't know what to say to dispel Ponda's idea. He was too eager.

Being eager in the past, or in the future, would definitely not be a bad thing, but being eager now could only be described as the worst possible thing.

If it had been in the past, Director Dale would definitely have supported him unconditionally, but this time, he clearly sensed Director Dale's hesitation, doubt, and uncertainty.

This situation had rarely occurred before.

Ponda didn't interrupt Director Dale, but quietly waited, waiting for him to make a decision.

"This case… put it on hold for now."

He placed the file Ponda handed over at the bottom of the pending file basket.

Not just at the bottom of the file basket, but under the entire file basket; this was a file that would not be processed for the time being.

Ponda was somewhat surprised, but he still expressed respect for Director Dale's opinion. "I understand."

He paused. "Can I know why?"

Director Dale still trusted Ponda very much, because Ponda had always played the role of a vanguard in alcohol prohibition and had always opposed Lance.

Some rumors had circulated before, saying that Ponda was always able to find Lance's warehouses or bars, suggesting that there might be some kind of transaction between them.

After all, the value of those bars and warehouses wasn't very high or very low; it was quite strange.

However, these rumors didn't last long, mainly because there wasn't much of a market for them.

Director Dale didn't believe it either. He trusted his capable assistant more than rumors.

So he was unwilling to hide anything from Ponda. "Because Lance has gotten involved with the Department of Defense."

He sounded slightly depressed when he said this. Whether it was a naval port or a military base, it was related to the federal government's subsequent national-level strategy.

If he interfered rashly at this time, Lance might take the opportunity to get rid of him. He could only put it on hold.

Although he was very clear that putting it on hold would mean many years.

In the end, the Hazardous Materials Administration was still serving the big shots in Congress, and Lance was also serving the big shots.

Moreover, Lance's level was even higher than his. Besides being depressed, there was nothing else he could do.

Hearing Director Dale say this, Ponda's eyes widened. He couldn't believe how Lance had gotten involved with the Department of Defense.

However, Director Dale didn't intend to explain this matter. He directly issued an order to leave. "In short, let's leave it at that."

Ponda was unwilling, but he had to stand up. "Okay, I'll come back if there's any new progress."

Director Dale nodded, indicating that he could leave.

Back in his own private office, Pang Da pondered for a while before finally giving Lance a call. He really wanted to chat with Lance about how he had managed to get involved with the Ministry of Defense!

And while he was at it, he also wanted to know if he had a chance to climb another step!