Chapter 292: Suspect

Alberto subconsciously lit a cigarette, partly because cigarettes could help him concentrate on his thinking.

On the other hand, cigarettes and smoke could conceal some of his true emotional expressions.

His hand, holding the cigarette, covered a small part of his face.

Lanse's words plunged him into deep thought, and he licked his lips, "Is it possible that the problem is on your end?"

"Is such a possibility there?", he looked at Lanse expectantly.

Lanse also seriously went through everyone he knew in his mind, then shook his head, "Basically everyone who knew about this matter was in the car; they couldn't possibly risk being killed to sell me out."

"Besides, what I give them is something others cannot."

Alberto's scalp was very itchy, and he scratched it hard; in fact, he already had some guesses in his heart, but he was just unwilling to admit them.

"I don't know, Lanse. I don't hope the problem comes from our side, but it looks like you are very certain the problem happened on my side."

He was silent for a moment, his expression becoming serious, "I need time to verify this matter."

He appeared very sincere, "I want to apologize to you for this, Lanse. I hope this won't affect the relationship between us."

After Lanse stared at his face for a while, he nodded slowly, "I want to know the truth!"

"You tell Paul to keep the bar closed for now; once we resolve this matter, I will come over again!"

After he finished speaking, he stood up and left directly, ignoring Alberto's attempts to make him stay.

After seeing Lanse to the door and watching Lanse's car leave, Alberto returned to the office.

Fudisi walked in, pushing the door open with a belly full of suspicion; he even found a reason to inquire about the news, carrying a cup of coffee.

"Does Lanse think his being attacked has something to do with us?", Fudisi was a bit curious. Lanse clearly came today with a questioning attitude; if there was anything that could make him this angry, it must be related to his being attacked!

Alberto picked up the coffee and took a small sip; it was already a bit cold. He glanced at the tray; clearly, there had been another cup just a moment ago.

This bastard had long wanted to come in and eavesdrop, but Lanse had left before he could enter.

There was no need to guess about the other cup of coffee; he must have drunk it.

Alberto put the coffee cup back, "It's cold."

Fudisi touched the coffee cup, "I can help you heat it up."

Alberto rolled his eyes, "Just leave it there!", he paused, "Lanse thinks someone in the family sold out his whereabouts."

Fudisi's expression also became serious.

In fact, what these gang leaders least wanted to see was their own itinerary for the next day, or which route they would take, being leaked to others.

Actually, it wasn't just gang leaders who didn't want such things to happen; some company presidents, big capitalists, and politicians would also hide their itineraries and routes.

This was not a safe era; what seemed like cumbersome things were actually exactly what could ensure their safety!

Whether it was Lanse, the late Heler, Paul himself, or other gang leaders, they would all maximize the effort to prevent their whereabouts from being known by others in advance.

Previously, Bill was almost killed on the way to buy breakfast because his daily habits had been figured out!

But if the Wolf Gang people hadn't known Bill often went to a certain place for breakfast and hadn't arranged for people to ambush him in advance, he couldn't have broken into the pier, and there wouldn't have been the subsequent series of events.

He leaked his own intelligence, so he died.

The matter this time was the same; being able to ambush at a precise location meant these people definitely knew Lanse was going to pass by there.

Only those who knew where he was going knew which road he would take, so someone must have sold out his information.

Fudisi watched Alberto smoking and couldn't help but take a few cigarettes from the cigarette case and put them into his own cigarette case, "So Lanse suspects we leaked the news."

Alberto nodded, "There are quite a few people who know the bar is going to be transferred to Lanse; this matter definitely couldn't be kept from people."

A bar that was operating very hotly suddenly announced it was going to be transferred; even if this was the family's decision, it would still make the group responsible for this bar feel dissatisfied.

If they were older people, the traditions of the Sumuli people were still carved into their bones; they might be dissatisfied with the family's decision, but they would still obey.

But if it were those young people who didn't respect tradition, they weren't that honest and would be very hard to deal with.

They would question the family's decision; after all, they were the independent and self-centered new generation.

These young people of the new generation no longer thought they were Sumuli people, but considered themselves Sumuli-born federal citizens.

It looked like... there was no difference, but in fact, there was a huge difference here.

The former represented their identification with Sumuli Island and the entire Sumuli culture; they identified with their race, identified with the culture, and identified with everything.

And the latter represented that they had been assimilated by the Federation during the process of growing up; their values were the values of the Federation.

Under the impact of the federal spirit of freedom, they hadn't learned respect for tradition and authority, but rather questioning of tradition and authority.

Some schools would even praise and encourage students who questioned teachers; they believed this spirit of questioning authority was a concrete manifestation of the spirit of freedom!

They even turned these things into little stories and publicized them everywhere, as if you weren't a normal person if you didn't question authority!

Questioning authority and questioning tradition resulted in the loss of awe and becoming more self-centered.

When their interests were damaged, what they might think of first wasn't how the family was, but how their personal interests were!

They would also doubt whether Paul's decision was correct and whether he had some other purpose in doing so.

In fact, this situation was not uncommon in the Pasleto family; they were a large criminal organization operating many criminal businesses.

Smuggling, arms, flesh trade, drugs, gambling tables, and now alcohol!

It was impossible for everyone to get the same profit from the businesses they handled; inevitably, there would be some disagreements and dissatisfaction.

In the past, they wouldn't show it because Paul, as well as the Five Great Families, were strong enough; they didn't speak up because they didn't dare to challenge Paul, not out of respect.

Paul still possessed absolute authority within the family!

But recently, especially this month, there was discord within the Five Great Families, the mayor's pressure was very high, and there were some voices within the family that were different from Paul's.

Some young people thought they should strike more aggressively, while Paul and the other old people felt they should use some methods similar to political means to keep everything within a controllable range.

If the disagreement wasn't resolved, the end result would be conflict!

Alberto wouldn't take the initiative to talk about discord within the family to the outside; he had deep feelings for the family; after all, it was Paul who brought him out of Sumuli Island; to him, Paul wasn't just a relative, but also a benefactor.

He rubbed his head, "There are too many possibilities; I don't know who is more likely."

As he spoke, he picked up the phone and dialed Paul's number.

During this period, both inside and outside the Five Great Families were relatively tense; Paul had been staying in the manor and hadn't left.

Even for his favorite facial cleansing, he would arrange for people to bring the barber back to the manor at irregular intervals to perform the facial cleansing.

This was actually the most appropriate approach.

However, it would also make some people feel that he was very timid; when a person started to "despise" authority, things would become very difficult to control!

So the phone was connected very quickly.

"Boss, it's me, Alberto; Lanse was just here."

"Hmm?"

"Lanse was attacked in Prisia; he said it was our people who leaked the news."

"Good, I know."

"Boss..."

"Alright, I know; I will investigate, and I will notify you if there is news."

Paul hung up without waiting for Alberto to finish speaking, which made Alberto vaguely realize that the problem might really come from within the Pasleto family!

This made him feel a headache; Fudisi, sitting opposite him, was quite calm.

"Actually, the contradiction has always been there; it just hadn't manifested before!", he said something he had always wanted to say.

This made Alberto roll his eyes at him, "No one will treat you as a mute when you don't speak!"

That was how it was said, but he also knew Fudisi was right.

A bar with hundreds of thousands in income every month, now transferred and given to someone else; surely some people would have opinions.

From the doorman, to the bartender, to the security guard, to the manager, to every employee of the bar, they could all get a commission from it.

Now that this commission was suddenly gone, with so much resentment, anyone could be the person who sold out Lanse's news!

Moreover, to them, Lanse wasn't a member of the family; selling him out was just selling him out; there was no psychological burden.

If Lanse died, then the bar could continue to be operated by themselves; wasn't this a very good decision?

Alberto slumped in his chair, looking up at the ceiling; he suddenly asked as if he had thought of something, "Who was managing that bar before?"

"Dover."

Christopher—omit some middle names that can be omitted—Pasleto; Dover was Paul's nephew.

His father had blocked a bullet for Paul to protect him when he was young and died in an attack.

Then Paul took on the job of raising Dover and treated him as his own child, giving him many good opportunities and conditions.

Dover's performance could only be described as mediocre; he had neither any performance that made people's eyes light up, nor any place that was disappointing; it could only be said he was very ordinary.

He didn't have any outstanding performance; some people actually had opinions about him being able to manage a bar in the Starlight District by himself.

They were the ones who had truly risked their lives for the family with real knives and guns, yet they were still just guarding an ordinary business, not full enough to be satisfied, but not hungry enough to die.

On the contrary, it was Christopher, a kid who hadn't experienced any battles, who was guarding a business that made big money; they would definitely be dissatisfied.

Alberto hadn't thought much of this young man before; the strange talk in the family could sometimes really make people angry, yet he acted as if he hadn't heard it.

If it were someone else, they would definitely have to prove themselves, but he was content with the status quo.

Perhaps to him, money was indeed very important.

If it was done by Dover...

Alberto felt a bit of a headache; Paul was a person who valued feelings and followed the rules; asking him to hand over Dover would probably be very difficult!

He couldn't help but start scratching his scalp again, hoping this matter had nothing to do with Dover; he didn't want to make things difficult for Paul.

After Lanse's motorcade returned to the Imperial District, everyone breathed a sigh of relief; people had gloomy faces, and only the passersby revealed smiles.

They were people who truly liked Lanse, and they truly didn't want Lanse to have an accident; fortunately, God blessed him, and Lanse was back!

The motorcade went directly to the office; Ma Duoer got out of the car first; he took the veterans and checked the surrounding environment with guns in their hands before letting Lanse get out of the car.

They drove the cars back; although from the outside, these cars had long been shot into sieves, they had saved Lanse and the others' lives.

And even if they were attacked again, they could still provide good protective effects.

After entering the office, Lanse relaxed his whole body; he took off his coat and threw it to Kelinda (one of the two girls), then entered the office and came to the bookshelf to take out a bottle of wine.

He needed to relax.

Alcohol was a magical thing; just a little bit could make people relax; after others entered one after another, Bodun also came.

Bodun was panicked!

Lanse was more important to him than anyone else!

Recently, his newlywed life had made him understand more and more.

If a son was gone, he could have another; if a wife ran away, he could marry a younger one, but all of this had a prerequisite: he must have money and status!

He had worked in the Federation for twenty years, and in the end, he only owned an apartment bought with a loan, an old, dilapidated car, and a pile of bills and two children.

He had nothing, in reality!

He wasn't an indispensable key character, and the company was constantly exploiting and squeezing him; although he was always trying very hard to integrate into a higher circle, because of his innate deficiencies, he simply couldn't integrate into it!

At the Saturday gatherings, those middle-class Imperial immigrants also didn't like him and would avoid him.

Could he not know this?

He also knew he was like a clown, but what could he do?

During this period, he finally felt that he was truly living!

With money and status, girls the same age as his daughter would spread their legs to let him find a more comfortable position.

His former wife didn't even want to look at him, but now, his little wife treated him like an old treasure; no matter what request he had, she was willing to agree.

There were also big changes when entering and exiting; people would stop, stand in a position that didn't block him, take off their hats, and shout "Mr. Bodun."

Those people who once treated him like dog shit would also take the initiative to come over enthusiastically to greet him and chat with him about finance and politics, which he actually didn't understand at all.

People wouldn't laugh at his shallow knowledge; instead, they would listen seriously and think what he said had a lot of substance.

It wasn't that he was outstanding that they accepted him.

It was just because he was a member of the Lanse family and counted as a small leader.

He knew very clearly that once he lost these, he would return to the past overnight, and it would even be worse than the past!

Those newly emerging gangs would find trouble for him, those ordinary people would also find trouble for him, and even those who were his subordinates now would also find trouble for him.

Only in this way could they draw a clear line with him.

So he might also be one of the people who least hoped for Lanse to have an accident.

Seeing Lanse sitting intact on the sofa, his lifted heart finally let go, and he also breathed a heavy sigh of relief!

"Thank God, it's good that you're okay!"

Lanse nodded slightly, signaling him to stand aside.

"Brothers died; according to our rules, take good care of their families."

Meiluo nodded, "I know what to do.", he had always been responsible for the pension part.

The families of these dead people could receive a pension from Meiluo every month according to the federal standard average wage, until decades later!

Their children could obtain better opportunities for cultivation; whether joining the family or studying, Lanse would cover all expenses during their growth process.

Besides that, the dividends and income they obtained in the gang would also be given to their families in a lump sum.

Even ordinary gang members could enjoy similar treatment; their families could at least receive twenty years of average income, which for many families was considered completely solving their worries.

"Find a professional mortician, clean them up, and let them leave decently."

"Then!", Lanse's tone changed; he leaned forward, his arms pressing on his thighs, just like an arrow that would shoot out at any time, "Find those people!"

He looked at Mo Lisi and Bodun, "We also killed quite a few people today; go to Bulu, let him bring the identity information of these people; I want to know who they are, what they are called, and who they work for!"

"I don't care who attacked me; I only care whether they are prepared to pay a heavy price for this!"

"Let the brothers be careful, distribute the weapons; the atmosphere in the city is very bad recently; I suspect it will be chaotic soon."

"I still say the same thing: our brothers finally came to the Federation, finally had a place to stay here, finally could eat their fill, wear warm clothes, and could see the most prosperous side of this world."

"I don't hope that only a few people will be left in the end; I hope every one of you can accompany me together!"

"If someone is careless... I don't really want to say this, then you must prioritize saving your lives; don't resist hard, and then wait for me to save you!"

He reached out and patted Aierwen on the shoulder, "Go to work!"

This sentence was said to Aierwen and also to the others; people soon dispersed, and only Lanse was left in the room.

Lying and sitting on the sofa, closing his eyes slightly, rubbing his cheeks, his whole body also gradually relaxed... ===== CHAPTER 293 =====