[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-the-shadow-empire":3,"chapter-the-shadow-empire-the-shadow-empire-chapter-128":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"chinese","The Shadow Empire",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":19,"prevChapterSlug":20,"totalChapters":21,"novelImage":22},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":15,"volume":16,"translator":17,"content_hash":18},2267748,4428,"Chapter 128: How to Handle This Cargo and the Movie","the-shadow-empire-chapter-128",128,"\u003Cp>Watching his men begin unloading the cargo, Poli’s face lit up with more smiles. He walked over to a crate of wine, pried it open, and pulled out one bottle.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Brandy?” He glanced at Jimmy, who nodded as he directed his men to keep unloading.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“All brandy and wine. Some whiskey too, but not much.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Poli’s brow twitched slightly. Brandy and wine were more popular in the mid-to-high-end consumer market, but his bars had no such upscale clientele.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In other words, everyone who drank at his bars was damn poor—they could only afford twenty-five-cent cheap whiskey, not pricier brandy or wine.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Especially these wines—who the hell drinks wine at a bar?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Maybe someone did, but not in his own bar. He’d been happy enough until these goods appeared, and now he wasn’t so pleased.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>What he didn’t know was that Heller had acquired these precisely for the mid-to-high-end market. The low-end smuggling alcohol scene in Jincheng was already half-saturated, with stable prices.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Meanwhile, the previously ignored mid-to-high-end liquor market was gaining potential. Jincheng had plenty of rich people—they wouldn’t drink cheap swill like those dock rats. They needed mid-to-high-grade liquor.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Whether for personal use or entertaining guests, they wanted at least five dollars a bottle.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At today’s market prices, wines that used to cost five dollars—like Gold Label Napo Whiskey—now sold for over twelve.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But real rich folks wouldn’t dare serve Silver Label to guests. The wealthy cared more about face than the poor, so Gold Label and similar became their only choice.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Some billionaires might go through ten, even twenty or thirty bottles in a single party. These wines could make him serious money—and give him access to upper-class connections.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>When others couldn’t get high-end liquor but you could, people would want to be friends with you.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Heller, like Mr. Joba, was a gang boss; the other, an immigrant banker. But both had the same heart: to become upper-class.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Poli understood this desperate scramble to climb into high society—but he wouldn’t do it himself.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He was at the bottom of society. Years of life there had taught him one truth: some things are fixed from the moment you’re born.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It is what it is. It isn’t what it isn’t. You can’t just change it on a whim.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even though he’d bought a villa in the Bay Area, he rarely stayed there—he could see the contempt and mockery in his neighbors’ eyes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even if he lived in an upscale neighborhood, to those people he was no different from a dockworker.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>No one truly saw him as anyone important.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Let our bars try selling them first. Have them negotiate a price.” Poli opened the bottle he held and ordered a glass.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>To be fair, its taste was far better than the cheap whiskey he’d drunk before—but maybe that was just the weight of its perceived value.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He patted Jimmy’s arm and signaled him to follow.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The two left the warehouse. The sea breeze blew in, surprisingly cold. He handed the bottle to Jimmy, who tilted it back and took a long swig.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Under the warehouse’s outdoor lights, Jimmy’s face flushed red. Soon he exhaled a puff of hot air, and his color slowly returned to normal.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Under Poli’s influence, nearly everyone in the Brother’s Gang drank hard liquor without ice.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Young men, especially flashy ones, always wanted to stand out—but in this dull society, standing out came at a heavy cost.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He could only seek difference where the cost was low. Drinking hard liquor without ice was one such choice.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He treated drinking a full shot of liquor without ice as a “game for the brave,” and this mindset spread through the gang.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Finishing a shot in one or two gulps, no ice—this gradually became gang culture.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Jimmy kept the bottle in his hand because Poli hadn’t asked for it back.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“While you were gone, Pete called me.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Pete was a well-known fixer in Jincheng’s upper class. He touched every field and had connections everywhere.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It came from his family: once, they produced a state governor and the state senate speaker (equivalent to lieutenant governor). Even now, family members still sat in the state senate and house.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A longtime active member of the Social Party.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Such all-purpose fixers were everywhere across the Federation—from cities to states to Congress, even the federal government. They filled every corner of the Federation’s political system.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Because they weren’t politicians, they weren’t bound by the rules.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They held enough influence in politics, the economy, business, and even the underworld that many needed them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Some people didn’t want to dirty their own hands but still needed dirty work done. These fixers became the choice of those who wanted to stay clean.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Jimmy had heard the name but didn’t know Pete. His rank was too low to meet such people—he just nodded, meaning “I understand.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Joba used some connections. Pete took his request and told us to drop this whole thing.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Only then did Jimmy realize—he exploded in anger. “So I got shot for nothing?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Poli turned to look at him. “You won’t be left unpaid. He agreed to pay twenty thousand to settle this.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I guarantee every penny will reach your hands.” The unspoken meaning: Poli and the gang wouldn’t take a cut—they’d give it all to him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Jimmy had already accepted it in his heart. When he heard Joba had sided with the mayor, he knew revenge was nearly impossible.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>To strike at the mayor’s dog was something even Poli wouldn’t dare.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Not because they couldn’t—but because they dared not. If they did, they’d have no place left in Jincheng.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The mayor already had high standing in the Social Party and planned to run for governor. He just took on a dog, and you go kill him?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Are you killing a dog—or slapping the mayor’s face? No one could say for sure.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>One word from him, and they’d be wiped out.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Their own hands weren’t clean. Law enforcement didn’t even need evidence to move against them—they could just strike.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Though he agreed inwardly, he couldn’t immediately grin and nod. That would crush his standing with Poli—and the gang.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Seeing Jimmy bow his head in silence, Poli placed a hand on his shoulder. “I know you’re furious with him—but I’m under serious pressure too.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Here’s your choice.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I’ll make him pay an extra ten thousand—or you go after his assistant’s nephew.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Pete told me: every arrangement was made by that young man. He picked the men, supplied the weapons, planned the hit.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Another impossible choice. Outside the Brother’s Gang, Jimmy would’ve chosen the extra ten thousand. But here, in front of Poli, he could only pick the option that fit the gang’s nature: “I choose the latter.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Poli smiled and patted his shoulder. “I knew you’d understand me!” He gestured for Jimmy to hand back the bottle.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He took it, swallowed a mouthful, and his face flushed red. “This is a hardship on you.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“It’s nothing. All for the gang,” Jimmy said, offering a polished reply.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That night, Poli arranged for a batch of brandy to be delivered to the bars. Because the price was high, they’d lowered it as much as possible: ninety-nine cents for a two-ounce pour.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At total bottle value, each bottle could sell for twelve dollars. In the end-retail market, that price was just average.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But in bar-by-the-glass sales, its profit margin was far lower than other products—almost negligible.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even so, sales were pitiful. All night, across several bars, not a single glass was sold. The Brother’s Gang’s own three bars sold zero.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The two bars they supplied sold only one glass—reportedly shared by seven or eight people.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Compared to ninety-nine-cent brandy, dockworkers with barely enough coins for a beer preferred a large cup of beer with an ounce of whiskey for twenty-five cents!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This made Poli realize he’d never sell this cargo himself. He needed another plan—send it to the Bay Area.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But he had no connections there. Still, he’d find a way. Pete the fixer was one.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The next morning, Heller called Poli.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Hey, big Poli, satisfied with the cargo?” Heller expected praise—but got a rant instead.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Heller, if you’d told me this cargo was all brandy and wine, I wouldn’t have touched it!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Last night, five bars sold one glass. Mid-to-high-end liquor has zero market on the docks!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In his office, Heller smiled faintly. He wouldn’t admit it—this was exactly what he wanted.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He’d chosen only low-level gangs to handle this. If he truly wanted to move the liquor, why not go straight to the Five Families?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Five Families had credibility and weren’t short on cash. They’d pay him fully. Why bother with low-level gangs?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Aside from a little fear they’d swallow his cargo, he mostly wanted to get the cargo back.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I didn’t know you couldn’t move it. How about this—you return the liquor to me.” He spoke honestly. “For helping me receive it, I’ll give you five thousand.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Silence on the line. Just as he was about to add two or three thousand more, Poli’s voice came through: “Two hundred thousand. Cost price.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Heller held the receiver up to his eyes, as if doubting he’d heard right.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He’d paid ten grand for this cargo. Now Poli wanted two hundred? Was Poli insane—or was he?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He brought the receiver back to his ear. “Are you fucking insane?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I paid you ten grand for this cargo. You can’t sell it, so I’m helping you fix it—and now you want two hundred grand?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Poli’s voice was sharp with menace. “This liquor can sell for three hundred fifty thousand. Don’t tell me you don’t know!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“And Heller, watch your words. I’m not an Imperial. If you try that shit on me, tonight I’ll bring my men and my guns to your door.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>One sentence silenced Heller.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Do whatever you want, Poli. Since you refuse my goodwill, I’m out.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Also—give me the money. What we agreed on.” He was furious, but he gave up. He believed Poli might really come kill him tonight.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The mocking laugh on the line made his blood pressure spike. His eyes turned red.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Since becoming gang leader, who had ever treated him like this?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“When I sell this liquor, I’ll pay you. Or you can come to my office right now and take it.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I’m not wasting time. Before noon—if you don’t show up, wait till I sell it.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The dial tone buzzed. Heller slammed the receiver onto the base.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Son of a bitch,” he cursed, lighting a cigarette.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But to personally go to Poli’s office after their phone fight? He didn’t have the guts.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After a while, he exhaled a heavy breath. Fine. Let him sell it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Two days. All bad news.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Because of it, he grew to hate Wil—the dead man—and his damned brother, and the Lans family that caused it all.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He walked to the window with his cigarette. Below, two police cars still sat outside the nightclub, killing last night’s business.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The cops are watching tight. When they stop, I’ll make the Lans family pay.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At this moment, Lans, whom he had been thinking about, had arrived at Lezhu Company and was sitting in Alberto’s office.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“...All those cars have been cleaned up. No one can link them to you.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“The police have been watching you closely lately, so it’s not easy for me to take you to meet Mr. Pasreto. Wait until they stop watching you so closely, then I’ll take you.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He shook his head slightly. “Lans, you’ve gained a bit of fame in Jincheng City. Many people have heard you killed Wil of the Camila Gang.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I’ve heard talk about the ‘Lans Family’ from more than one person. You’ve gained this attention faster than when I first came to the Federation.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lans looked relaxed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Johnny’s family might... to some extent, know some people in the gang circles. When they heard the name “Lans Family,” they were terrified.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They went with Hiram to persuade Johnny to let go of his grudge, and Johnny indeed chose to give it up.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He was just a dockworker, relying only on his strength and a few friends to bully others at work.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He wasn’t a gang member, nor did he ever aspire to be one. So when he truly encountered a “family,” he immediately chose to compromise.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He voluntarily explained to the Harbor District Police Station that this was merely a misunderstanding and requested all charges against Baker (the scapegoat) be dropped, proposing a private settlement.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Harbor District Police Station was also willing to accept this outcome. On one hand, it would reduce some workload—after all, if litigation proceeded, they would need to deploy police resources for investigation.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Don’t think police get paid to show up daily and that investigations cost nothing—they do incur real expenses.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If they can cut even part of it, the management won’t object.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>On the other hand, the money Lans gave to Officer Ferren and his partner also helped.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Now he wasn’t afraid of being investigated at all. Even with a dozen cops watching him, Lans felt no fear.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Gaining attention isn’t necessarily good, but it’s not bad either.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After all, reputation is often a protective talisman.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Alberto, are you familiar with the film industry?” Lans changed the subject.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Alberto paused, cigar in hand. “Are you interested in some movie star?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“If she’s too famous, it won’t work. You might not know—some top actresses have even visited the Presidential Palace.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“But for lesser-known ones, there’s no problem.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At this time, the Federation’s film industry had not yet been accepted by mainstream society. Though growing rapidly, it remained in its early developmental stage.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Compared to grand opera with its lavish stage effects, it was clearly one, even several, tiers below.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Currently, the few film stars in the Federation recognized by mainstream society were not acknowledged for their acting—but for their status as capitalists!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Thus, the upper class paid little attention to the film industry, yet it had become one of the key forms of entertainment for the lower and middle classes: five cents bought an hour of joy.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Most films now were comedic and farcical, genuinely bringing great joy, and stood alongside the circus as the most popular entertainments among the lower classes!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>So during this era, even the most famous movie stars, if they weren’t capitalists or didn’t have prestigious backgrounds,\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>were essentially playthings of the upper class—and this would continue for a hundred years, or longer.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lans shook his head. “I’m not interested in that. I have a brother with exceptional talent—I think he could become a big star.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Alberto grew curious. “Then why don’t you have him pursue opera?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Opera actors are more respected.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Opera?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Without decades of training and some luck, he’d never rise. But I believe the film industry will become the fastest-growing sector over the next decade...”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“And this industry can help me.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Or rather, us.”\u003C\u002Fp>",2482,"2026-06-19T21:10:27.799Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","9c1b9ac2fc35d9c226f0b85e4451494551641f3f538bd6ba3425adbf1d93bc3e","the-shadow-empire-chapter-129","the-shadow-empire-chapter-127",1000,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fthe-shadow-empire-cover.jpg"]