Chapter 97: Aboveboard Money-Making

At ten in the morning, in the courtyard of the Security Command Headquarters, dozens of soldiers were moving heavy wooden crates. Each crate was filled with brand-new silver dollars, glinting blindingly in the sunlight.

Lin Yu stood to the side, squinting as he watched his subordinates carefully count. He always needed to see the actual silver dollars with his own eyes before he would order a withdrawal.

"Six million, not a cent less," Shiteyin reported to Lin Yu.

Lin Yu nodded and waved his hand. The troops, already waiting, immediately began loading the trucks, moving efficiently—clearly well-trained.

The convoy slowly pulled away from the Security Command Headquarters; Lin Yu sat in the lead vehicle, watching the buildings recede outside the window, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Maintaining this private army burns money when we fight," Lin Yu leaned back in his seat, tone relaxed. "If we don't raise more funds, how can we support these men?"

He shook his head: "Last night we used the Leader's Staff to lay down indiscriminate firepower, wiping out the Ninth Division in one go—it felt great, but watching it made my heart bleed. How much money did that volley cost?"

Shiteyin nodded silently. Indeed, maintaining such a powerful private force without imperial subsidies, relying solely on our own fundraising, every penny must be carefully budgeted.

Meanwhile, in the Security Command Headquarters, Yang Chengdong stood by the window, watching Lin Yu's convoy disappear down the street, his face grim.

"Six million!" Zheng Shihao sighed. "He just extorted that amount from us."

"But what can we do?" Sun Desheng gave a wry smile. "That madman really dared to turn the Security Command Headquarters upside down."

Qin Chang'an slammed his fist against the wall: "One day I'll make him pay it back double!"

"Shut up!" Yang Chengdong barked. "Don't say such things again. That madman isn't someone we can provoke. You saw it yourself—his Ninth Division couldn't last a single night in his hands."

Everyone fell silent. Indeed, who would dare provoke a madman capable of wiping out the Imperial Japanese Empire's elite division in a single night?

Moreover, this madman holds the position of Imperial Inspector, gripping a leverage that could ruin them all...

"This money isn't enough," Lin Yu sat in his study, fingers lightly tapping the desk. "To maintain such an elite force, six million silver dollars won't last long."

Shiteyin stood aside: "Sir, what do you plan to do?"

"Since we've already made a name for ourselves, we should go all out," Lin Yu said, smiling. "How about holding a victory banquet?"

"A victory banquet?"

"Exactly," Lin Yu rose and walked to the window. "Invite all of Shen City's notables—tycoons, gentry, gang bosses—leave none out."

He picked up the list on the table: "The three tycoons—Huang Genrong, Du Yusheng, Zhang Tianlin—must be invited. Feng Jing'an of the British Concession, the biggest textile magnate in Shen City. Lei Nuo, Director General of the French Concession's Public Administration Bureau, and Williams, Director General of the British Concession's Works Bureau—these foreigners must also be invited."

Shiteyin nodded: "I'll get the invitations arranged right away."

"Remember," Lin Yu added, "the invitations must be on the finest paper, so they see our grandeur."

Green Gang Headquarters, in Huang Genrong's study.

"What does Lin Yu mean by this?" Zhang Tianlin stared at the gilt-edged invitation in his hand, brow furrowed.

"What else could it mean?" Du Yusheng exhaled a smoke ring. "It's obvious he's after money."

Huang Genrong lifted his teacup and took a gentle sip: "This young man is interesting. He wiped out the Ninth Division in a single night, and now he's throwing a grand banquet to show us his strength."

"Should we go or not?" Zhang Tianlin asked.

"Go, why not?" Huang Genrong set down his teacup. "Someone who can annihilate the Ninth Division in a night isn't someone we can offend. Besides..."

He gave the two a meaningful look: "With a person like this, whether friend or foe, we need to first gauge his true capabilities."

Night fell, the Lin Gong Guan blazed with lights. In the grand banquet hall, glasses clinked and perfumed silhouettes mingled. Lin Yu laid out a feast, celebrating the Seventh Division's victory while also displaying his power to all sectors of Shen City.

Inside the banquet hall, the three tycoons—Huang Genrong, Du Yusheng, Zhang Tianlin—took seats together, occasionally glancing at Lin Yu, who moved with ease among the guests. Feng Jing'an of the British Concession chatted happily with several foreign compradors, while Lei Nuo and Williams gathered with other concession representatives, whispering about something.

"Inspector Lin truly is young and accomplished!" Huang Genrong raised his cup, beaming. "He wiped out the Ninth Division in a single night, removing a major menace from Shen City—I toast you!"

"Boss Huang, you're too polite," Lin Yu returned the toast. "Defending Shen City is our duty. But..."

He paused meaningfully: "Maintaining such an elite force indeed requires substantial military funds."

As soon as he spoke, the assembled notables understood. Du Yusheng was the first to rise: "Inspector Lin is right! I pledge twenty thousand silver dollars for military expenses!"

"I'll contribute thirty thousand!" Zhang Tianlin followed suit.

Feng Jing'an wouldn't be outdone: "Our British firm is willing to put up fifty thousand silver dollars!"

Other business leaders quickly pledged as well, fearing to be left behind. In just a few minutes, the promised donations exceeded three million silver dollars.

Shiteyin stood aside, watching the scene, unable to suppress a quiet sigh. No wonder the boss went all out with this victory banquet—it was really to openly raise military funds.

At another end of the banquet hall, Lei Nuo and Williams were speaking in low voices. Though they wore smiles, their eyes betrayed a hint of apprehension.

"This Lin Yu isn't simple," Lei Nuo whispered. "In just a month, he's gone from a lowly constable to the real power in Shen City."

"What's more frightening is the troop under his command," Williams continued. "Being able to annihilate the Ninth Division in a single night shows this level of strength..."

The two exchanged a glance, seeing worry in each other's eyes. Evidently, Lin Yu's rise has already alerted the foreign concessions.

The banquet lasted until late at night. On the surface, glasses clinked and everyone seemed cheerful, but underneath lay turbulence and undercurrents. Everyone was sizing up this young inspector, guessing at his strength and ambition.

Lin Yu, however, kept his gentle smile throughout, as if unfazed by it all. Only Shiteyin knew that the boss was playing a grand game—this banquet was merely the beginning...

Lin Yu strolled over to Lei Nuo, glass in hand, moving at a leisurely pace.

The red wine in the crystal goblet glowed blood‑red in the light, like the pool of blood on the floor of the Grand Triple Harmony Restaurant a few days earlier.

Lei Nuo instinctively swallowed, a fine sheen of sweat appearing on his forehead.

He knew all too well the methods of this young man before him. The scene of Mutō Chiaki's head being blown into a mist of blood is still talked about in the French Concession's elite circles.

That was the esteemed envoy of the Imperial Japanese Empire, yet on his turf he didn't even finish a harsh sentence before his head was blown apart.

"Mr. Lei Nuo," Lin Yu gently swirled his glass, the corner of his mouth turning up in a meaningful smile, "I heard that night you reached some kind of... agreement with Mutō Chiaki?"

Lei Nuo's fingers twitched slightly.

He suddenly realized he might have committed a fatal mistake.

He ought not to have provoked that madman.

That young man's gaze was like looking at a corpse.