Empire of Shadows

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Many people are like this, especially girls—they often seek in others what they feel they lack in themselves.

Young girls want to appear more mature, while mature women wish they could regain a sense of youthfulness.

For Patricia, she already had enough youthful energy, so she couldn’t help but admire her cousin’s maturity and charm.

After all… men always seemed to favor that kind of allure.

Lance glanced at Barbara and confidently said, “Of course, Barbara is beautiful. She’s also mature and has that unique charm that only mature women possess.”

Patricia’s expression dimmed a little, but Lance didn’t let it last, “But there are many beautiful women. Barbara is one, and there are others—even celebrities.”

“I’ve just glanced around and seen so many pretty girls.”

“But there’s only one you.”

He cupped her face gently. “I’ve said it before, there could be many beautiful, sexy, or whatever kind of women in this world. But Patricia, there’s only one you. The one and only.”Patricia, who had been feeling a little down, suddenly couldn’t hold back her smile. She didn’t really want to smile—it didn’t feel proper.

But she couldn’t help it. Lance really knew what to say!

“You’re making me shy!” she whispered to him, clearly in a very good mood now.

Young people always talk about fashion, movies, and trends—things without much depth.

Honestly, Lance couldn’t really keep up with their conversations, since he hadn’t watched a movie or followed pop culture in quite some time, but he still tried to join in.

Maybe because of the car—worth the same as two villas—everyone was pretty friendly with Lance.

Money, after all, was a universal pass across all classes and ages in the Federation.

But surprisingly, one of Patricia’s cousins actually recognized Lance.

“You run a labor agency, right?”

This cousin was named Jack—a very common name.

“Yes, but I have no idea how you knew that.”

Patricia chimed in, “Jack works at the docks.” She looked at him and asked, “What exactly do you do again?”

Jack answered casually, “I check incoming shipments. You know, go over a form, randomly open a container, see if there’s anything undeclared.”

“It’s a boring job, but I meet a lot of workers on the docks, so that’s how I heard about you.”

“They say you’re trying to monopolize the illegal labor on the docks. Is that true?”

Jack worked in customs and had many contacts at the docks. He had heard Lance’s name more than once.

It all started with the illegal immigrants. Compared to before, they were now organized, disciplined, and structured.

Someone even helped the dock office manage them, and the dock authorities were very supportive of what Lance was doing.

In the past, illegal workers would sometimes steal and disappear, making them hard to trace.

Or they’d slack off—who wouldn’t, when working like a dog for only a few bucks a month? But now, things had changed.

Their discipline improved, which eased a lot of work for the dock office. But it also meant they were no longer so easy to push around. They were banding together.

Just a few days ago, an incident had already been making the rounds. Jack leaned in and whispered to Lance, “Did Hammer really run away?”

Lance shrugged, “Who knows?”

“I can’t find him. He cost me a lot of money.”

A vague answer—but revealing all the same.

Jack knew better than to push. “Maybe I’ll need your help in the future. I’ll just come to you directly instead of going through her.”

Lance pulled out his card and handed it over. “Of course, anytime.”

They soon parted ways. Patricia looked curious. “Who’s this Hammer he mentioned?”

Lance briefly explained what had happened. Patricia wasn’t shocked—just surprised. “Some people are just hopelessly stupid.”

“You’re absolutely right.”

Aside from Jack, none of the others really had any overlap with Lance’s world. Most of Patricia’s family either worked for the government or private companies—no one was from the working class.

In the Empire, people often said the Federation was fair and clean, free of corruption and dishonesty.

But once you dug into its core, living as a real Federal citizen, you’d see that this country cared more about “lineage” than anywhere else.

When most of the guests had arrived, the party officially began. Barbara walked out arm-in-arm with her father and stood before the cake.

First came a touching father-daughter speech, then it was time for cake cutting and gift-giving.

The cake was delicious and definitely expensive—tall and large, enough that everyone had their own piece and still couldn’t finish it.

The atmosphere lightened up as people started giving gifts.

The men and women stood to the side while their children stepped up with the presents. The first to go was the oldest cousin—thirty-seven years old, a socialist, working in government.

He gave Barbara a pair of delicate, sparkling earrings.

Barbara put them on immediately and showed genuine appreciation.

Then it went in order by age.

Patricia had planned to give a necklace she loved, but Lance stopped her. It was his first time attending her family’s gathering—he wasn’t going to let her bring the gift.

On their way there, they had stopped at a jewelry shop and picked out a $150 gemstone brooch shaped like a nightingale, in a beautiful blue-green color.

When Patricia handed it to Barbara, she was clearly delighted and appreciative.

The girls hugged and kissed cheeks. She thanked them repeatedly and even gave Lance a polite hug—for formality’s sake.

With guests of all ages, the gifts varied widely.

Lance’s brooch and other jewelry gifts were among the more valuable ones. Some, however, were handmade crafts—less costly, but rich in sentiment.

Even if they were cheap, no one would say it out loud—because the value of a gift wasn’t just in its price.

About half an hour later, the adults started arguing over political views.

Patricia chuckled quietly. “This is why William didn’t want to come. They argue every year, and no one ever convinces anyone.”

It was a common thing. Even in a family of three, you might find three political views—someone for the Socialists, someone for the Liberals, someone for the Federalists.

Thankfully, this election year was less intense due to some shady backroom deals. Otherwise, someone would’ve already stormed off swearing.

Still, the President’s re-election through dirty tricks had lost him a lot of support.

Even Lance sensed that the next election in four years might be full of surprises.

Federation citizens might be stupid, often manipulated, but they hated being reminded of it.

Now that the President held up a mirror showing them how foolish they looked, they were furious.

You could exploit their ignorance—but don’t call them idiots.

That’s the Federal mindset.

Lance and the other young people weren’t surprised. A few of them even started eating more.

Luca leaned over and told Lance, “Our dad’s losing the argument. If nothing changes, we’ll have to leave soon.”

Sure enough, a few minutes later, angry shouts for their names rang out. Those kids gave some awkward goodbyes and quickly left.

Their parents, having “won” the argument, now puffed up like victorious roosters and started looking for their next debate target.

“They’re wasting political talent here. They all belong in Congress!” Lance joked, drawing laughter and agreement.

After politely declining dinner, Lance and Patricia headed home.

On the way, Patricia looked a little embarrassed. “I hope everything today didn’t scare you off. You know, big families are always like this…”

Lance grew curious. “What did your grandfather or great-grandfather do?”

Without hesitation, Patricia answered, “Farm owner.”

Lance whistled. A core supporter of the Liberal Party!

Almost all major farm owners were firm Liberal backers. And only big landowners had that many children and such sprawling families.

In the past, having more kids meant more free labor. Most old-generation landowners had at least three or four children—some even more than ten!

After two or three generations, you’d get a massive family tree.

When they got back to Patricia’s place, William was still away on a business trip.

Mrs. Lawrence wasn’t home either. Just the two of them in the house.

They didn’t go too far—but they did go beyond what Patricia previously thought was possible.

Just when things were about to escalate further, the sound of a car engine came from downstairs.

Mrs. Lawrence was back.