Chapter 137: Premeditation

At night, on the third floor of the Empire Night nightclub, Lansi sat in his favorite boss chair.

He was still dressed in his usual style: tea-colored sunglasses, a floral shirt, and a light-colored coat. He seemed quite pleased with his own taste.

The choice of this outfit gave him a sense of being dashing and cynical, a persona he hoped would become his trademark.

In front of the desk, his cadres sat or stood. Anyone catching a glimpse of this scene would likely think this was either a politician's office or a capitalist's office.

But in reality, this was just a gang's office.

"I've already had people investigate Wei De's death thoroughly. It was done by a force called the 'Lansi Family,' and most of them are immigrants from the Empire."

"I don't care how they got into a feud with Wei De; the point is, they killed one of our own."

"This is our turf. We are the ones who cause trouble for others, never the other way around. So, this matter will not just end like this."

"We must avenge Wei De!" He slammed the table, but the cadres' reactions were not particularly enthusiastic.

How much cohesion could a gang whose main business was kidnapping and bullying its own people really have?

Even among the cadres, they were wary of one another, lest they accidentally fall victim to a "good friend."

Wei De is dead?

Then let him be dead. People didn't care about that; with one less high-level cadre, they could split a bit more money.

They also knew clearly that Lansi wasn't really looking to avenge Wei De by going after Lansi; they had all heard the rumors recently.

Lansi would fund college students' tuition and even give away houses and cars.

They didn't quite understand why Lansi would do such things, but they all understood that Lansi was very wealthy.

If he didn't have money, he wouldn't dare make such promises. Even if Lansi didn't say it, they were actually quietly inquiring about Lansi and the Lansi Family themselves.

To them, Empire people have money, but that money doesn't necessarily belong to the Empire people—it could also belong to their Kamila Gang!

Although the reaction wasn't enthusiastic, they wouldn't oppose going after Lansi either; it was all about making money anyway.

A wealthy little gang—if it's wiped out, it's wiped out.

A high-level cadre coughed. He looked somewhat thin, wearing a white shirt and a cyan coat. "Let's talk about the key points. Are we trying to find a way to kidnap him, or are we launching a gang war?"

The attention of the others was drawn by this question; this was what they wanted to say too.

If it were just a kidnapping, perhaps a high-level cadre could take some men and try it.

As long as they found an opportunity to catch Lansi, they could snatch him.

For the Kamila people, kidnapping didn't distinguish between "broad daylight" or "sneaking around." If they saw the person, even if the target was driving, they would just ram their car into them, drag the person out, stuff them into their own car, and leave the scene. This was what they were best at.

The cost of kidnapping was lower, the overhead smaller. There might be some vehicle damage when forcing the target's car to stop, but that would be the biggest expense.

A few hundred dollars was enough for them to tie someone up.

But a gang war was different. A gang war required a larger investment. If you wanted the low-level gang members to risk their lives for you, you had to show enough sincerity.

People aren't stupid.

Perhaps some gangs, like the most united Sumuli gang, didn't need various rewards or promises to stimulate them; everyone would fight to the death. That was because they had that kind of atmosphere.

Everyone was united; if something happened to one person, others would find ways to help. That's why people rarely said "the Sumuli gang," but instead used "a certain family" to describe them.

They treated gang members like family.

But the Kamila Gang clearly lacked such an atmosphere and environment. If they didn't feed the people well, these low-level members weren't all fools; they wouldn't really risk their lives.

Whether they could make them fight to the death depended on whether Lansi could afford the money.

A lot of money.

Therefore, every gang war was a gamble of fate for the gang.

If they lost, after spending a large amount of funds and favors with nothing to show for it, and instead suffering heavy losses themselves, they might not recover for a year or two.

If they won, then naturally they could earn back their capital with interest, and the gang's scale and status would move up a level.

Lansi's gaze swept across the faces of these cadres one by one. He knew their thoughts; they all wanted to launch a gang war.

Because only in this way would Heller give them a large sum of money first.

He was also weighing the gains and losses. In the end, the idea of saving where possible prevailed. "First, go and try to kidnap him; see if you can snatch him."

His gaze turned to the remaining high-level cadres one by one, finally locking onto the cyan-clad cadre who had spoken earlier. "Liam, you go."

The guy who was named stood up, supporting his knees, and straightened his collar. "No problem."

Lansi looked at him. "Can I get some good news?"

"Of course!"

After the people left, only two of Lansi's confidants remained. One of them didn't think highly of Liam going to kidnap Lansi.

"Kidnapping the leader of a small gang isn't an easy task. I suspect he'll mess this up. If the other side retaliates, it's very likely the scale of the war will continue to expand."

Lansi swirled his wine glass, the liquid slowly circling the wall of the glass. He didn't seem very worried. "Just a small gang of a few dozen people..."

The person speaking saw that Lansi didn't take this small family seriously, so naturally, he wouldn't say more. He knew Lansi's bad temper well.

Compared to the kidnapping and the money he didn't know how much he could squeeze out, Lansi's mind was now full of his wine.

Damn Big Poli!

On the weekend, the state government issued a notice that all cities in the state must establish a Tobacco, Alcohol, and Hazardous Materials Administration. Except for the director, who might be arranged by the state or federal government, the core members would all be recommended by local law enforcement agencies.

The local police, tax bureau, judicial bureau, and even the Federal Bureau of Investigation all had the qualifications to recommend candidates.

The Chief of the New Jincheng Police Department recommended over twenty names to the state government. As for how many would be selected, he couldn't guarantee.

But Officer Lukaer—he had used his favors; there was no possibility of him failing to be selected.

He hadn't been in the position of Police Chief for very long, but no matter how long he could stay, he didn't want everything to lose control.

The transfer order soon arrived at the City Police Department. Under the shocked and jealous gazes of some colleagues, Officer Lukaer went to the Assistant Chief's office to hand over his work.

Everyone knew that this new administration would be a very hot department.

The city's underground world was full of smuggled alcohol, and this department was destined to have dealings with many criminal organizations and capitalists. But now, they had no chance.

Everyone who was selected was ecstatic, while those who weren't could only vent their helpless emotions.

Officer Lukaer... he could no longer be called an officer now. He had been appointed as a senior agent (special agent) of the new Tobacco, Alcohol, and Hazardous Materials Administration. He would undergo a month of intensive training and take office after the New Year.

Even the location for this new law enforcement department had been finalized, not far from City Hall, and renovations had already begun.

The President repeatedly criticized some localities in his televised speech for their lack of initiative, or even negligence, in implementing prohibition.

He could express understanding; after all, for some regions that produced various alcoholic beverages, prohibition meant cutting off their important financial and economic sources.

But they could not ignore the responsibilities they should undertake and value—social responsibility—just because of tax revenue.

Prohibition was not a matter for one person, one family, or one region. It would change the status quo of the Federation having numerous alcoholics, minimize domestic violence, and boost productivity.

In short, stricter prohibition measures were imperative!

New Jincheng also felt this atmosphere, and the price of alcohol became even higher.

"I've already contacted the winery on Xiang Yalan's side. After watching the important competition in early December, we'll set off."

Alberto sat on the sofa with his legs crossed. This was his first time at Lansi's financial firm.

Today, he had returned from the Bay Area after handling some business and stopped by here to see Lansi.

He had always heard that the business here was doing well, but he had never seen it with his own eyes. Today, he finally saw it.

Every little while, someone would come in with their work card to borrow money. Although the amount of each loan wasn't large, the volume was huge!

And the most convenient part of Lansi's model was that collection wasn't difficult.

They were essentially paying the interest and principal in advance; they just needed to wait a while to cash it out.

Lansi's side had a very good relationship with the dockworkers' union recently, so the workers at the docks wouldn't dare default on their debts.

This gave him some ideas, but he quickly dismissed them.

Because selling alcohol was much more profitable than this.

Lansi sat behind the desk, sitting naturally. Their relationship was good enough that he didn't need to sit on the edge of the sofa. "I also have some shortages recently. We'll go together when the time comes."

Alberto was curious. "How did you convince the dockworkers' union to let you sell alcohol at the docks?"

"Fruit juice!" Lansi emphasized. "It's normal for fruit juice to ferment a little during transport and storage. I don't think that's illegal."

"Just like... bread!"

"Bread also produces alcohol when it ferments. If the federal government completely disregards facts, then they should even ban bread, because bread also contains alcohol!"

This was the first time Alberto had heard the claim that bread also had alcohol. He kept it in mind; maybe he could use it to show off in front of others sometime.

Eating bread is equivalent to drinking alcohol; the Federation should ban eating bread—what a thrilling statement! Those girls would definitely love it!

Speaking of this, Alberto asked one thing: "Do you know who else has large quantities of mid-to-high-end alcohol besides the batch you had before?"

Lansi shook his head. "That batch of alcohol was just something I obtained by chance. If you still want it, I can only say I'm sorry; at least I don't have any here."

"However, I've heard that there are many vineyards on Xiang Yalan's side, and almost every country is brewing wine and brandy. You'll definitely be able to find suitable ones."

Alberto nodded and said, "Going this time is to establish a fixed, long-term deal."

Actually, Sumuli Island also produced high-quality wine and brandy, but Sumuli Island was a bit far from the Federation, and the long sea voyage would multiply the travel costs and risks.

There were not only storms on the ocean but also pirates.

On the contrary, Xiang Yalan was right next to the Federation, connected by land, and there was no great danger in sea transport; walking along the continental shelf, they could dock at any time.

He paused as he spoke. "Recently, another batch of mid-to-high-end alcohol has appeared on the market, slightly disrupting the boss's plan. He wants to know who is selling this batch of alcohol. If you can find out, the family will owe you a favor."

Lansi pretended to think for a while, though he actually had no idea who it was.

If it hadn't been for Hiram's chance encounter that allowed him to get that batch of alcohol, he might still be half-ignorant about many things here.

Actually, after Director Du Ke got Lansi's alcohol, he already had a comprehensive plan, and it was being implemented quite well. He provided alcoholic beverages to many wealthy people in the Bay Area, thereby establishing deeper connections with them to varying degrees.

And the state government also had a great need for high-end alcoholic beverages, especially the state upper and lower houses. These state senators and representatives were also heavy consumers of alcoholic beverages.

Discussing matters related to power in a private room—if a glass of decent alcohol was missing, it was clearly as regrettable as missing a soul to these gentlemen in the dim light and shadows!

Going out from New Jincheng and radiating to the whole country was Director Du Ke's idea.

He didn't want people to only say "Oh, I've heard of it, that's one of the five major families of New Jincheng..." when mentioning the Du Ke family.

He hoped more that when people mentioned him and his family, they would say "That's one of the five major families of the Federation!"

Of course, six major families would also work, or several major ones, but the prefix of New Jincheng must be changed to Federation.

Everything was going smoothly, but recently someone suddenly disrupted this situation. Director Du Ke's people didn't hear any valuable news because the person selling the goods was a middleman.

Someone entrusted the alcohol to Pete to sell. As the deadliest broker in the area, he started selling in large quantities without any difficulty.

And brandy and wine were slightly higher-end in application occasions than the whiskey Lansi provided to Director Du Ke. His plan couldn't be said to have completely failed.

After all, there were big shots who liked whiskey; it could only be said that it wasn't perfectly completed.

Lansi could get such a large batch of alcohol; perhaps he could get some news.

But it seemed a pity; Lansi also didn't know who provided it.

At this moment, someone suddenly knocked on the door. The two paused their conversation. Lansi said "Come in," and the door opened.

Hiram glanced at Alberto. Lansi signaled that he could speak. He flicked his hair. "Someone is watching us, and there are also people in the back alley."

Lansi frowned slightly. His subconscious thought was Officer Lukaer, but he quickly felt it shouldn't be.

He was now clean as a whistle from top to bottom. Officer Lukaer should know this, which was why he withdrew everyone. How could he suddenly arrange for people to come again?

He asked, "Do they look like police?"

Hiram shook his head. "They don't have the temperament of police; they look like people from other gangs."

Alberto immediately became interested.

He had no interest in dealing with police, but he was very interested in gang struggles. "Need help?" he asked proactively. "Should I have someone mobilize a batch of weapons?"

As he spoke, it was like a complaint, or perhaps a reminder to Lansi. "You have to find a way to get your own channels, and also talent."

"Big Poli saves me quite a bit of money every year just by re-rifling barrels."

If all the guns used in crimes were destroyed, the expense would easily be hundreds or thousands of dollars.

They had to be destroyed, because the ballistics had already been included in the scope of evidence, and scientists said that there couldn't be two identical riflings in this world, just like fingerprints.

For ordinary gangs, if they were a bit poorer, they might reuse them, and then in some arrest process, all their previous cases would be dug up, leading to a life sentence or the electric chair.

Those who were slightly less poor might try to sell the guns to the black market at a low price, and it would have nothing to do with them who took the blame later.

There were also some who would sell the guns abroad. Although there was still a loss, the loss would be relatively smaller.

As for those who were very wealthy?

A witness once described the whereabouts of these guns in court—

"Before every operation, we would get a new gun. After we killed someone, we would walk to a person holding a sack and throw the weapons that had been fired into the sack one by one, and then that sack would be thrown into the deep sea by our people..."

The Big Poli on Alberto's side solved this problem well, but not permanently.

The consequence of his constant re-rifling was that it became less and less accurate, but for gang members, it didn't matter.

Sometimes the purpose of firing a gun wasn't really to kill anyone, but to tell others: I have the courage to fire, but do you have the courage to be hit?

Lansi accepted Alberto's reminder entirely. "I'll find a gunsmith after this period ends. As for weapon channels..."

Alberto continued, "I'll introduce the seller to you; they're our own people."

Lansi accepted his kindness. Alberto called someone to have a batch of weapons delivered—naturally, it would be billed—and told him that Big Poli would still give him a friendly 40% discount for recycling.

Lansi looked at Hiram. "Catch one and bring him back to ask."

As for catching the wrong person?

Give them some money, and there are plenty willing to be caught by mistake!

After Hiram left, Alberto walked to Lansi's side and flicked his hair, imitating Hiram's style. "Is he always like this?"

Lansi couldn't help but laugh. "The doctor said it's incurable..."

The two looked at each other and laughed heartily. ===== CHAPTER 138 =====