Empire of Shadows

Chapter 615: Chain Reaction [Alliance Master Title: Winter Rain, Sunny 333+1]

After Lance's convoy disappeared into the darkness, Derwent wrapped his arm around his wife and returned to their room.

Only then did he notice that his wife's body was trembling slightly.

"What's wrong?" he asked with concern.

The trembling of her body was a clear sign of discomfort or illness, and he was worried that his wife might be sick.

Getting sick at this time was not a good thing, although it was absurd that getting sick in the Federation would be a matter of timing, but that was the reality.

A series of problems brought about by the war were constantly affecting society in all aspects.

For example, the prices of various special medicines began to skyrocket, and they were also very difficult to buy.

After the Federation joined the military alliance, the Allied countries began to purchase large quantities of various supplies from the Federation.

Because of the war, much of their own industrial production had completely stopped, and they could not produce it themselves, so they could only buy it from the Federation.

And this was also an irreconcilable contradiction between the Federal government and the Danterra Republic.

Among the many commodities, the export volume of medical supplies was the largest.

Although everyone was an ally within the same military alliance, this did not mean that the Federal government would provide its allies with various precious medicines for free.

Even if the Federal government had such an idea and wanted to buy a good reputation with some supplies, those capitalists and medical groups would not allow them to do so.

They believed that before the end of the war, it was impossible to determine whether the currencies of these countries would still be valuable in the future, so now, in trade with these countries, all medical supplies, especially some special medicines, were traded by bartering.

Medicines were exchanged for gold, jewelry, or something else, and the prices were raised.

On the one hand, there was the relatively "cheap" civilian medical market in the country, and on the other hand, there was the "expensive" medical market abroad that traded in gold. There was no need for them to consider how to choose.

The purpose of capital groups developing various special medicines was not to benefit mankind, but to earn more money.

This also led to the price of drugs in the Federation starting to rise, rising to the point where some middle-class people could not afford to use drugs, and they could not buy them, or it was difficult to buy them.

The price of the latest special anti-inflammatory drug had risen to seven grams of gold per milliliter, and each injection was about five milligrams, which was equivalent to thirty-five grams of gold.

You might as well hope that ordinary people can heal themselves sooner than expect them to be able to afford this.

Derwent was not too worried about not being able to afford medicine, but only worried about not being able to buy medicine even if he spent money. He put his arm around his wife, led her to the living room, and had her sit down before starting to check her body.

But she shook her head, hugging her arms, "I'm not sick."

Her eyes were filled with deep fear as she looked at Derwent, and her face was slightly pale.

Derwent seemed to realize something. He looked at his wife, "So..."

"He... didn't do anything to you, did he?" she asked.

Derwent didn't speak, and she continued, "I'm not the kind of housewife who doesn't know anything. I also read newspapers, and I also have community social circles."

"Lance White, I've heard this name more than once, and the Lance family too."

She seemed to have thought of something terrifying, and rubbed her arms back and forth with her hands, as if this could bring her some warmth and security.

"I didn't know he was Lance. He said he was your colleague. I opened the door at the time, but when he came in and told me his name was Lance, Lance White, I knew there was trouble."

Derwent looked at his wife. He could hardly imagine how this woman behaved... it made him feel incredible!

"Then you..." He didn't know what to say. When he came back, he saw his wife chatting and laughing with Lance, and he was worried about it.

The woman shook her head, "I don't know. My mind was very clear at that time. I knew that if I made a mistake, something would definitely happen to me, and something might happen to you too."

"I can only pretend that I don't know who he is, and pretend that I really think he's your colleague!"

When Derwent heard this, he hugged his wife tightly and gently patted her back, "It's all over, everything will be fine."

She broke free from Derwent's embrace, looked at him, and asked, "What did you say later?"

Derwent was silent for a while before whispering, "We cooperated."

This answer did not make his wife feel angry or unacceptable, but instead made the woman breathe a sigh of relief.

Derwent didn't understand, "Don't you think... I'm doing something wrong by doing this?"

The woman shook her head, "I don't care who you work for, honey. I only care about us being able to live safely."

Lance's influence on this city was constantly deepening. When she socialized with the ladies in the community, it was difficult not to mention Lance, and naturally it was difficult not to mention the things he had done.

For many ordinary people, Lance and the Lance family were like a "myth" in this city. It was not ugly, and it was not evil.

On the contrary, it was filled with an alternative romance originating from ordinary people, from the bottom of society, full of brilliance!

Yes, an alternative romance, representing the great success of the ordinary class!

Everything done by the protagonist of this story would be naturally beautified and become a story that people could accept, so ordinary people were not afraid of Lance at all, but would like him instead.

She was very worried, worried that her husband had angered Lance, but now it seemed that the situation was not so bad.

Derwent didn't know what to say or how to understand his wife's performance. He didn't know if he was disappointed or relieved.

After a moment of silence, he asked, "Don't you think it's a bad thing for me to cooperate with a gang leader?"

His wife shook her head, "I don't understand your work, but I know that everyone in this city, as long as they are not Mr. Lance's enemies, will say that Mr. Lance is a good person!"

The moment these words came out of his wife's mouth, Derwent seemed to have a ridiculous feeling!

The next morning, he went directly to Dale's office and sat down there.

Dale looked at him with a look of doubt, and during this time he made a gesture, as if to say, "What the hell are you doing here?"

After about twenty or thirty seconds, Derwent said, "Lance came to see me."

Director Dale frowned, his right hand quietly placed under the table, in the second drawer there was a pistol.

If necessary, he would directly shoot and kill Derwent, and then find a reason to perfunctorily dismiss the matter.

For example, Derwent was bought by Lance and tried to buy himself, but after being sternly rejected by himself, he tried to hurt himself, but was killed by himself.

People don't need to learn how to frame someone; they are born with it.

Derwent also noticed his small actions and shook his head slightly, "He talked to me a lot, and he also talked about you."

"To be honest, I can't imagine that we have so many problems here."

Director Dale's hand was taken back from under the table and placed back on the table.

If Lance told him the truth and didn't kill him, then there was only one possibility - he had also become a friend.

Director Dale didn't know what to say, and could only remain silent. After all, in the eyes of these people, he had always been the representative and embodiment of justice.

As a result, he, second only to Ponda, sided with Lance, and he would also feel embarrassed.

"Lance asked me to contact the other two senior special agents. In addition, he also asked me to convey a message to you, asking you to see if there is a chance to take down the deputy director."

Director Dale nodded, "I know."

After saying this, the office fell into silence. The two sat face to face for about two minutes, without anyone speaking or doing anything.

After a while, Derwent stood up, "I'm going to work."

Director Dale nodded, "Okay, contact me at any time if you have any questions."

Derwent smiled, turned around and left the office. Director Dale sat there in a daze for a while, then picked up the phone and dialed the extension number of the deputy director's office, "Do you have time after get off work tonight?"

Back in the outer office, Derwent took the initiative to contact Ponda. Ponda was a little surprised that Derwent was also "one of us." He didn't show any abnormality, just had a brief conversation with him, and then separately worked on the other two senior special agents.

At this time, they hoped that these people could be dragged into the water more than Lance himself.

Only in this way could they prove that this was not their problem, but the problem of the entire institution, the problem of Congress, but not theirs.

All day long, seemingly peaceful Goldport City saw extremely insignificant small things happen.

For example, a gang member of a certain gang was assigned a task and hurriedly left the city, disappearing into the wilderness outside the city.

For example, a gentleman was waiting for a bus at a bus stop when he was accidentally stabbed in the spleen by a thief and fell to the ground, losing his life before the ambulance arrived.

For example, someone was driving on the road when they had a car accident and unfortunately died in the car accident.

These people who had accidents all had a characteristic that people didn't know: they all belonged to informants of the Dangerous Goods Administration.

After get off work in the evening, Ponda glanced at Derwent standing at the door when he left the Dangerous Goods Administration. After a brief exchange with their eyes, they left separately.

In the distance, Director Dale was smiling as he helped the Deputy Director into his car, explaining that it would be easier to talk business that way.

No one knew that this law enforcement department, with its immense power, was about to undergo some changes.

It was a little after eight in the evening when the phone rang in front of Lance. He picked it up, listened for a while, and then hung up.

Afterward, he took out a stack of files from the drawer, selected two from them, and placed them on the table.

“Get Devon and Allen in here. I have a job for them.”

Soon, two young men appeared in the office. Lance pushed the two files forward, “I don't want to see them again.”

The two exchanged a glance, each took a file, gave a slight bow, and then turned to leave.

Of course, they knew what Lance meant. This was the value of their existence.

After giving these instructions, Lance turned his attention to other matters, as if he had only done a trivial little thing.