Chapter 157: Please, Mr. Lanse, help me seek justice

In the antique shop on the street, the boss with the flower headscarf hung up the phone, a smile that was hard to detect on his face, and returned to the front desk with a broken notebook. What he needed to do now was to drag out time.

Just now, he made this call to the Lanse Family. As an antique shop specializing in receiving and selling stolen goods, every antique shop boss had his own network of contacts on the gang side.

This matter, receiving and selling stolen goods, wasn't something everyone could do, although it looked like it seemed very simple.

You only need to have a storefront, a little cash, and you can do this business, but it actually isn't that simple.

Once, there was an antique shop boss whose whole family returned to God's embrace. During the day, he was still dreaming of getting rich, and at night, the dream ended, and the reason was that they received things they shouldn't have received.

If you do this line of work, and can't figure out what things you can receive and what things you can't receive, then it's highly probable that there will be no future.

And why did this matter spread so fast that even he knew it? Speaking of it, it also had a relationship with Burton—

Ever since Burton took Lanse's money, he promoted Mr. Lanse's generosity everywhere. In the eyes of many people, Mr. Lanse was a powerful gentleman willing to lend a helping hand to Imperial people.

That was the cost of going to college. Ordinary families couldn't take it out, but Mr. Lanse could take it out, and didn't need any return.

Plus some "good news" that had spread from Lanse and the Lanse Family recently, the annihilation of the Kamila Gang, they had some blind trust in this Mr. Lanse.

Actually, at this time, Imperial immigrants all hoped that among them, a relatively powerful big shot would emerge. Only in this way could their days be slightly better.

Although some people said Mr. Lanse was a native-born federal person, just experienced ups and downs in childhood, and was sold to a black factory to work with federal illegal immigrants.

When suffering inhumane exploitation and oppression in the black factory, Imperial immigrants helped him, so he would have a special feeling for Imperial people.

But there were also people who said he was actually an Imperial person, didn't know why he suddenly had a federal person's identity, so he would be closer to Imperial people.

No matter which statement it was, it couldn't change one fact, and that was that he was willing to help Imperial people.

This made everyone more willing from the heart, and more able to accept this Mr. Lanse.

As Lanse's mobile propaganda front in the Imperial District, Burton was naturally seen as Lanse's person.

Otherwise, why would he promote Mr. Lanse's goodness everywhere, instead of promoting other gentlemen's?

After the small shop boss was sent to the hospital, his wife and some family members also followed to the hospital. His youngest son reported to the police and waited for the police to come over on the spot.

After the police came over, they simply asked what happened, recorded it, and then prepared to leave.

He stopped the police officer who was going out and asked when there would be a result. The other party told him to wait for news. As for others?

No comment!

This obviously perfunctory attitude made him feel despair. He had heard before that the police at the Imperial Branch weren't too attentive to the cases here.

As long as it wasn't a case that alarmed more senior big shots, or a case that harmed federal people, they weren't that active.

It was just that before, he would treat this kind of thing as a topic for chatting with family members after finishing dinner and sitting on the sofa, letting them feel the injustice and cruelty of the Federation.

But when it happened to himself, that kind of despair made him feel fear, uneasiness, anger, and helplessness!

At his worst, he suddenly thought of a person: Burton.

He and Burton had been colleagues before. Now he heard that Burton was Mr. Lanse's person, a character who "had the ability to solve problems," so he brought a hundred dollars and found Burton.

Seeing an old colleague, Burton was of course happy, especially since the other party brought gifts.

For this old colleague, he knew that his family opened a small shop, and the business was considered okay.

The living atmosphere in the Imperial District was relatively closed, and the inside could digest those commodities of his father. So although it was only a small shop, it definitely could make money.

He himself could still make money, plus his younger brother's, three people in the family were already making money. Wasn't this a proper "Imperial District middle class"?

Burton had three faces. Toward those not as good as him, toward the middle class, and toward those who needed him to look up to, he could seamlessly and quickly switch between these faces.

After the two sat down and chatted for a few sentences, his colleague started to take the initiative to talk about the reason for this visit.

He needed Mr. Lanse's help, and everyone knew that Burton was Mr. Lanse's person.

He couldn't beg Mr. Lanse himself, but he knew Burton, and hoped Burton could say a word for him to Mr. Lanse.

This request made Burton, who loved face, very cool, but at the same time, also felt a trace of heavy burden. If he couldn't handle this matter, would there soon be rumors that he actually wasn't Lanse's person?

Then, would those people on the street who took off their hats and smiled and greeted him return to the previous state?

He didn't like his previous life. He liked the current one, even if Lanse only gave him money once!

He promised to try, and then came to the bedroom. The phone was in the bedroom.

He prayed that it must get through, so that he could truly show his face, and be truly "Mr. Lanse's person."

With Lanse's reputation and status in the Imperial District now, if he could be seen as Lanse's person, then he would be the true "Mr. Burton."

But he also hoped that this call wouldn't get through, because he really wasn't that familiar with Lanse, and he wasn't sure if his friend's request would be accepted.

In this contradictory mood, he looked through the half-covered bedroom door at his former colleague who was full of expectations in the living room, and dialed the office's phone.

The phone was connected.

"This is Wanli Office. Is there anything we can help you with?" The front desk girl's sweet voice made bones light by two points. At this time, his attention wasn't here.

"I am Burton. I want to talk to Mr. Lanse. He should remember me."

"By the way, I am also Jeral's uncle."

The front desk didn't know what kind of person he was, but knew that Jeral and Lanse had a good relationship. The little girl quickly found Lanse and explained the situation here, and Lanse let her transfer the call over.

"I am Lanse. What's the matter?"

"I am Burton..." Burton let out a heavy sigh of relief. "Mr. Lanse, it's like this."

"I have a friend. He used to be my colleague. We worked together..."

Lanse directly interrupted his words. "Get to the point. Our time is very precious!"

"I'm sorry. I just wanted to say we have a good relationship."

"His father opened a shop in the Imperial District, but it was robbed at noon today. Now the person is still in the hospital for rescue."

"Five young people fired a gun and hit this poor old man..."

When Lanse heard this, he roughly knew what happened. This kind of thing was very common in this era, but he also realized that this was a good opportunity.

"Then what do you want to get from me, Nick?"

"If you don't have money, I can lend you money to let the hospital do its best to rescue, and even help you contact an excellent surgeon."

Nick gritted his teeth and stood up. "Mr. Lanse, we have money to treat my father. What I want now is to let those people who might have killed my father pay the price!"

"The price of blood!"

"Please preside over justice for me!"

Lanse looked at the middle-aged man who had already bent down, turned his gaze around Burton's face, and finally returned to him. "If what you said is true, then I will preside over justice for you."

Nick revealed a surprised expression. He thought of something. "I don't have anything to repay you. I still have some money..."

Lanse stopped him. "I help you not because I covet your money, or anything else of yours, but just because, this society owes you justice, Nick."

"What you can't get from it, I give you."

"Go back and wait for news. I believe it won't need too long."

"Also, Burton, you stay."

Burton simply ordered a few sentences to Nick, probably meaning to go back together, so he could save some money.

And Nick also wanted to thank Burton very much. After all, without him, he couldn't see this Mr. Lanse who already had a bit of legendary color, let alone request the other party to preside over justice for himself.

So he intended to treat him to a meal to express his gratitude.

"Mr. Lanse!" After Nick left, he took the initiative to stand up. His news was very well-informed.

He even heard that Heller drowned, in his study.

This unrealistic way of death made him believe even more that Lanse was a capable person, and even the police were willing to lie for him!

This kind of unrealistic way of death made him believe even more that Lanse was a capable person, and even the police were willing to lie for him!

So he wouldn't feel how great he was just because his age was a bit older.

Burton's values might have some problems, but his attitude was always correct. For those he couldn't afford to offend and still desperately fawned over, he was always a dog-legged appearance.

"You did well outside recently."

He again stopped Burton's desire to express. "Jeral told me about some things you did, but he didn't have any obvious hatred, and... you also provided him with a convenience, letting him have a legal identity."

"If he doesn't pursue the past things, I won't pursue them either."

"Now, I give you an opportunity to work for me. I need to stabilize the public security problem in the Imperial District as soon as possible. I need to recruit a batch of peripheral members."

"The salary won't be too high, but it's not dangerous either. Your work is to turn around on the streets all day, or find a place to sit, drink tea, drink coffee, read newspapers."

"By the way, pay attention to pedestrians on the street, and provide us with information."

"A very leisurely job. I think you should be able to handle it."

Burton's hands held the hat brim and pressed it on his chest, nodding continuously. "Of course, Mr. Lanse, of course, I can definitely handle this job!"

Lanse pulled open the drawer, took out fifty pieces of twenty-dollar denomination banknotes, stacked them together, and tied them with a rubber band.

"Twenty dollars per person per month. There is one thousand here. You can recruit fifty people, including yourself."

"But I won't care whether you can recruit fifty people, or only one person, as long as you don't affect my requirements for you. Understand what I mean?"

Burton looked at the cash on the table, his breathing was a bit chaotic, and his heartbeat was a bit fast. He had never seen so much money put together in his life!

Only the size of a palm, but it gave him a feeling that he couldn't earn in his life.

He didn't take it. Sometimes he was very clear-headed. "Of course, I understand what you mean, Mr. Lanse. You hope we become your eyes..."

This was why, when Lanse started looking for the "five robbers who robbed spices" and even found the true identity of one of them, the antique shop boss could know!

He had already heard that the Lanse Family was paying attention to these things.

In order not to become cannon fodder by accident, he took the initiative to call the number left by the other party.

Next, what he needed to do was to wait for the Lanse Family's people to come over.

The young man who robbed the money looked at the old guy with the flower headscarf counting money for a long time and still couldn't count it right. If it weren't for worrying that the weapon in the other party's hand would go off, he would definitely snatch it over and count it himself.

"Can you... damn it... be faster?" He also became a bit irritable. I don't know why, the longer he dragged on here, the more uneasy he felt.

I don't know if something happened, or it's possible that the old man with the flower headscarf at the corner of the street saw something. He suddenly put a stack of money on the table. "These are all yours."

The suddenly fast action made the young man who robbed the money a bit at a loss. At the same time, a harsh braking sound came from outside the door.

He subconsciously looked back. There were two cars rushing toward them in the place he could see. Obviously, they were looking for them.

If he still didn't know what happened, then it could only be said that his brain was eaten by aliens!

He turned his head violently, cursed "Fuck," but saw that the other party had already lifted his deer hunting gun and told him to "get out of my shop."

He could only take the money, glare at the boss with the flower headscarf, and rush out of the antique shop.

I'll settle the score with you later.

Three cars surrounded them from three streets. The four young people at the door had already realized something was wrong and immediately fled in all directions.

The co-pilot of one of the cars was Hiram. He also brought two rookies. He pointed to one of the people fleeing frantically and said to Laun, "Hit him."

"You're not joking?" Laun confirmed again.

Hiram shook his hair. "Or I'll shoot him to death now..."

Laun kicked the accelerator violently and stepped on it to the end!

Hiram could definitely do something like shooting in broad daylight. He didn't want to make Lanse angry!

The car rushed toward the running guy with a screech!

Even if the car speed in this period wasn't very fast, it wasn't an era where humans could compete with car speed with their legs.

The car head chasing from behind hit that person directly, knocking him flying!

He spun in the air, and after a moment that might be very long, but might also be very short, he fell heavily to the ground.

Hiram opened the car door, pulled up his pants, walked over in big strides, and kicked him in the stomach. "Keep running, damn it!" ===== CHAPTER 158 =====

He did not take it; sometimes he is very clear-headed. "Of course, I understand what you mean, Mr. Lans. You hope we will become your eyes..."

This is why, when Lans began searching for the "five spice-stealing robbers" and found the true identity of one of them, the antique shop owner was able to know!

He had already heard that the Lans family was paying attention to these matters.

In order not to become collateral damage in an accident, he took the initiative to call the number left for him by the other party.

Next, all he had to do was wait for the people from the Lans family to arrive.

The young man stealing the money watched the old guy in the floral headscarf count the money for a long time without getting it right; if not for the fear that the weapon in the other party's hand might go off, he definitely would have snatched it over to count it himself.

"Can you... hurry the fuck up?", he also became somewhat agitated. He did not know why, but the longer he dragged things out here, the more uneasy he felt.

He did not know if something had happened, or perhaps the old man in the floral headscarf at the street corner had seen something; he suddenly placed a stack of money on the table. "This is all yours."

The suddenly rapid movement left the young man stealing the money somewhat at a loss. At the same time, the screech of brakes came from outside the door.

He subconsciously looked back. In the places he could see, two cars were charging toward them; it was obvious they were looking for them.

If he still did not know what was happening, then one could only say his brain had been eaten by aliens!

He turned his head back abruptly and cursed "Fuck," only to see the other party had already raised his deer rifle and told him to "get the fuck out of my shop."

He could only take the money, glare at the floral-headscarf-wearing boss, and rush out of the antique shop.

I'll settle the score with you later.

Three cars surrounded them from three streets; the four young men at the door had already realized something was wrong and immediately scattered to flee.

In the passenger seat of one of the cars was Hailamu, who also had two rookies with him. He pointed at one of the people fleeing frantically and said to Lao En, "Hit him."

"Are you not joking?", Lao En confirmed again.

Hailamu tossed his hair. "Or should I shoot him dead right now..."

Lao En kicked the accelerator hard, stomping it to the floor!

Hailamu was absolutely capable of shooting in broad daylight; he did not want to make Lans angry!

The car screeched as it slammed toward the running guy!

Even if the speed of cars in this era was not very fast, it was not an age where humans could compete with vehicle speed using their legs.

The front of the car, which had caught up from behind, slammed directly into the man, sending him flying!

He spun in mid-air, and after a moment that might have been very long, or perhaps very short, he landed heavily on the ground.

Hailamu opened the car door, pulled up his pants, walked over with large strides, and kicked him in the stomach. "Keep running, you fucker!"