Empire of Shadows

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Whether due to nerves or something else, Johnny’s trembling hand reached into his yellowed pocket and pulled out a small glass bottle.

He quickly popped open the cap with his thumb, took out a small pill from inside, and shoved it into his mouth.

No water—he swallowed it directly.

In reality, the pill wouldn’t have had time to take effect just yet, traveling from the mouth to the stomach. But strangely enough, his trembling hand steadied, and he seemed to calm down a bit.

He wore a bitter smile on his face. “Mr. Lance…”

Lance walked over to the cabinet, looked around, and eventually chose a double ham sandwich.

Johnny took it out and placed it on the counter.Lance picked it up and took a bite. “You’re the best baker on this street, Johnny. You can’t get this kind of taste from their stuff.”

He paused, “Today’s ‘bill day.’ I hope you haven’t forgotten.”

Johnny’s fist clenched, and Hiram’s hand, which was already tucked into his chest, gripped the gun.

If Johnny made a wrong move, he’d show the fool what the Lance family style really was!

Even though some prosecutors in Likalai State had concluded from various cases in Golden Harbor City that the Lance family’s signature was pumping a pound or more of bullets into a victim, this couldn’t legally prove the victims were related to them.

Because… others could copy that method too, so even though the truth was known, nothing could be done.

Johnny had clearly heard the rumors. His clenched fist loosened.

“I still have over six hundred dollars, Mr. Lance. Could you… give me some more time?”

Lance chewed the delicious ham and shook his head. “That’s not possible, Johnny . You know, business is business.”

“Either give me the money, or I’ll sue you. Of course, there’s a third option.”

He stuffed the last bite into his mouth. “Hand over this storefront, and your debt’s cleared.”

In the past, Johnny might have shouted “No way!” or something like that. But now, he couldn’t even muster the voice.

It wasn’t just the debt tormenting him—he had developed a severe addiction to painkillers, which now threatened his livelihood.

These days, he only took three to four pills daily, and that was because he had tried to reduce the dosage.

Two months ago, he used to inject strong painkillers, but they were too expensive.

So he turned to cheap tablets. The effect wasn’t great, but at least they calmed him emotionally.

These drugs had already started affecting the quality and taste of his baking. He felt hopeless about the future!

“Mr. Lance…”

Lance shook his head slightly, denying him the right to speak further. “You’d better get a lawyer. You’ll be receiving a court summons soon!”

He turned to leave. Johnny knew that if he didn’t stop him now, it would be too late!

He had already been tortured enough by lawyers—spent money and got nothing in return.

Johnny hurriedly lifted the counter flap, took a few steps to chase after him. “Mr. Lance, aren’t you leaving me any way out?”

His tone was filled with pleading, indignation, despair—and a sliver of hope as he looked at Lance.

Lance paused at the door, glanced sideways at him. Though he looked like he was smiling, it was cold and indifferent.

“Mr. Johnny , you didn’t leave me any way out back then either.”

“What makes you think I’d now give you that illusion?”

He sneered, “If you haven’t made up your mind before the office closes tonight, then you won’t need to make a decision at all.”

With that, Lance left the bakery without giving Johnny another word.

Johnny stood there in a daze.

His house, worth two thousand dollars, had been auctioned by the bank for $1,355.25. Of that, $1,300 went to Lance.

The bank charged a $55 auction commission, and the remaining 25 cents now sat in his little box.

He would keep that 25-cent coin forever, treating it as the symbol of his life’s humiliation.

Sometimes he’d dream of suddenly becoming a millionaire, and tell others that what drove him to succeed… was that very quarter.

But… dreams always end.

The shop was worth about $4,500, but he didn’t know how much the bank would sell it for, or how much he would be left with.

Or maybe… he wouldn’t even cover the debt and still owe more to Lance—he didn’t know.

He was utterly lost…

…

In early May, after a long while, good weather finally returned to Golden Harbor City. The beach was already filled with the silhouettes of many young people.

The ocean waves were like a generator of joy, with people reveling freely on the sand.

The only thing somewhat disappointing was that at this time of year, the girls hadn’t yet adopted the habit of going topless. Most wore relatively conservative one-piece swimsuits, as if showing an extra inch of skin was a crime.

But even so, the snug swimwear was enough to stir the blood of many young men.

Ponda had these past few days off.

The Dangerous Substances Bureau had been working around the clock lately. Although Lukar had lost his informant in the Imperial District, arrests in other areas were still ongoing.

There would always be someone trying to step up.

Rob’s death had allowed many people to deduce from his personal information that the Lance family was behind it. The likely reason? Rob had sold the location of two Lance-run bars to the bureau.

It was also likely that the Lance family had bribed someone to get the traitor’s information. In the end, Rob died by a “special honor kill”—his body left hanging from a streetlamp right outside the bureau.

Some other people, hoping to earn rewards, had reported bars in other districts. They succeeded.

So while things had quieted down in the Imperial District, operations in other districts continued.

Director Dale knew they couldn’t run people ragged forever. If nerves were stretched for too long, eventually they would snap.

So, as May began, he granted some agents a vacation to let them rest, along with generous bonuses.

Ponda was one such ordinary agent. He wasn’t from around here but was from Likalai State. With no family nearby, vacation left him feeling a bit aimless.

He heard the beach was lively, so he came out to have some fun.

And indeed, it was bustling. The young, hot bodies on display made his hormones surge.

Too bad alcohol was banned here, and no one dared sell alcoholic drinks on a public beach. Otherwise, an ice-cold beer right now would’ve been perfect.

Wearing a sunhat, he found a cold drink stand in the middle of the beach and sat down.

“One tropical juice,” he ordered. Sweet and tangy, with that signature tropical flavor—most people loved it!

Of course, no one really knew if it was “tropical” flavor or not—it just tasted unfamiliar and exotic.

Just as he was about to head to the sand to check out the girls, someone bumped into him.

Most of his juice spilled onto the girl in front of him, who let out a sharp scream as he quickly apologized.

“No, it’s fine. I’m partly to blame too.”

The girl looked beautiful, with a great figure and a sweet personality—young too.

Ponda felt a bit flustered. “Either way, it’s my fault. I should’ve noticed you earlier. You’re so dazzling, maybe I really am blind!”

The girl laughed. “You seem a little inexperienced.”

Ponda rubbed his slightly flushed face and took off his jacket since her swimsuit was soaked.

He didn’t quite catch her meaning. “What?”

“The lines you just used are kinda outdated. Why not just say what you really think?”

The girl draped his jacket over herself, crossing the sleeves in front of her chest. She reached out her pale, slender hand. “Nice to meet you—Lisa.”

Ponda quickly shook her hand. “Hi, Lisa.”

“I can tell you’re nervous, but you shouldn’t forget your name!”

Her every expression made Ponda feel giddy—and a little embarrassed. “I’m Ponda. Ponda Green. Nice to meet you…”

And just like that, the young man and woman got acquainted. They went to the beach showers, then walked and talked along the shore.

From their conversation, Ponda learned that Lisa was from out of town, living alone in Golden Harbor City.

She hadn’t been here long, was still adjusting, and didn’t have many friends. She said Ponda was the first male friend she’d made here—this made him feel like happiness had fallen from the sky and hit him square on the head.

They talked about everything—work, life, dreams, the future. They found they had a lot in common, which stirred a feeling in Ponda’s heart.

As evening fell, Lisa was ready to head back.

Ponda walked her to the bus stop. As the bus approached, he realized if he didn’t do something now, Lisa might remain just a fleeting moment in his life.

He mustered his courage. “Can I see you again?”

Lisa smiled so sweetly it made him feel like he needed insulin. “You can call me.”

“But… I don’t have your number.” He was a bit frustrated—he’d forgotten to ask.

Just then, the bus arrived. Lisa jumped on, and he could only watch.

But just as he was sinking into despair, Lisa, already on the bus, pointed to her chest. Ponda instantly realized—he reached into the pocket of his jacket and found a small card with a number on it.

In an instant, his disappointment turned to elation!

He pumped his fist and ran several dozen meters alongside the moving bus, waving wildly until it was out of sight.

In the following days, Ponda and Lisa were inseparable. They watched sunrises over the sea, admired the sunset’s fading beauty, gazed at the moon together—even kissed…

They were like lovers.

On the last day of his vacation, Lisa gave herself to him.

She told Ponda that her hobby was dance, and during one intense routine, she accidentally tore that thin membrane.

If that bothered him, she said she’d leave—even though she didn’t want to.

But Ponda, deep in love, didn’t care. He really liked this beautiful girl. They lay together, and amid Ponda’s shouts, he ended his virginity.

It all made him feel ecstatic. He even suggested that Lisa move in with him—and they talked about getting married.

But for some reason, he always felt that a shadow of worry lingered in Lisa’s eyes. He wanted to soothe her frown, but she didn’t seem willing to share her troubles.

Amid this happiness and small anxiety, Ponda returned to work at the Dangerous Substances Bureau.

Right on his first day back, Lukar gathered everyone.

“I think the biggest reason we failed last time is because they recognized our agents.”

“You’ve all been relaxing this past week, but I’ve been thinking—how do we act without giving ourselves away?”

“We’re up against a cunning criminal organization. Before vacation, we found one of their bars, but the next day it was emptied.”

“Their alertness is among the highest we’ve seen in any case.”

“The Lance family isn’t like those old-school crime groups. Their average age is under 20, which makes them more reckless, sharper, and mentally agile.”

“We can’t use old methods on them. We need to infiltrate—to find a fatal flaw.”

“I’m not saying you should join them, but I want you to recommend someone reliable—a fresh face, preferably an Imperial native.”

“That way, they’ll blend in faster.”

“I discussed this with Director Dale. If anyone can pull this off, once the Lance family falls, that undercover agent will be promoted—not just as a full agent, but potentially a team leader.”

Last week, after finding the Lance bar, they didn’t immediately act. They wanted to observe.

First, they weren’t sure how large or significant the bar was. Second, they hoped to tail any delivery people and trace back to warehouses or other bars.

But by the next day—the bar was gone.

Lukar did suspect there might be a traitor inside the bureau. But now wasn’t the time to sow distrust—everyone was united in the fight against crime.

He suspected it was the doorman who noticed something off about the agents.

They hadn’t entered the bar—he didn’t know what gave them away.

So this time, Lukar planned a different approach: infiltration.

He’d already picked someone for the job. But by saying this out loud, he had a hidden agenda.

If there really was a mole, then Lance would know about the infiltration. The decoy agent he sent would be exposed.

Once the decoy was caught, the real agent he’d secretly arranged could join the Lance family undetected and provide intel.

As for what would happen to the decoy?

Lukar didn’t care anymore. His only goal now was to crush crime and eliminate evil!

In fact, he wanted Lance to know exactly what he was doing. Only by sacrificing some could he truly achieve his objective.

Unfortunately, Lance’s attention wasn’t on that right now. Morris had picked up intel that the Viper Gang planned to move in from Fides.

They were bringing 70 to 80 people—along with a large stockpile of weapons.

The intel came from a Viper member—likely encouraged by their leader, Brinton, who spread the word to boost morale.

In Fides, Snake was a legendary figure—building a powerful gang from scratch in just over 20 years.

Now that he was coming personally, it made everyone feel more secure.

As a precaution, Morris sent a few people to pose as customers at the Imperial Nights nightclub. They overheard someone talking about it, then found a chance to kidnap two people.

Viper members were tough—but afraid of pain. They confessed quickly.

Once Lance got the news, he summoned his core members.

“…That’s the situation. I think we can’t let them enter the city.”

“Once they do, their numbers will rise above a hundred. If others join, they could hit 200.”

“We don’t know how many gunners they have. If they move slowly and try to take our turf piece by piece, we’ll be stuck defending and attacking.”

“That would turn this into a long war!”

“I don’t want a long war. Our friends and enemies are evolving fast—if we get bogged down, even if we win, we’ve lost.”

“So I propose intercepting them en route.”

“They don’t know our capabilities and won’t expect us on the road.”

“If we take out this reinforcement group, Brinton and his crew will lose their fang and no longer a threat!”

***

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