Chapter 334

335. Chapter 331: Transactions and Resentment

Alberto, who was sitting at the edge of the table calculating the accounts, had a cigarette in his mouth; the smoke was so thick it was making it hard for him to keep his eyes open.

In truth, the profits Lezhu Company gained through usury were far less than those gained from selling smuggled alcohol at the bar, but this business had the advantage of being stable.

No one knew what it would develop into in the future, and keeping such an industry was actually a means of increasing resistance to risk.

Even if there came a day when alcohol couldn't be sold, at least he could still practice usury, couldn't he?

There were two other employees at the edge of the table; these two were accountants by trade, through and through.

Working for a financial company's usury business might not sound very good if it got out, but at least the pay was absolutely generous, and the work was very leisurely.

No one forced them to cook the books, nor would anyone make them take the fall and go to prison.

The only thing they needed to do once a week was to calculate clearly how much money had been made that week.

Stacks upon stacks of money piled together were indeed a comfortable sight to behold; Alberto picked up a few stacks and tossed them back down casually.

The income for this week was probably just under ten thousand.

It sounded like a lot—an income of about twenty or thirty thousand a month—and if it were a year ago, he would have been very satisfied with this income; after all, not everyone could have so much money every month.

But his bar could perhaps bring in that much profit in a single night, which left him feeling a bit melancholy.

Recently, his focus had been entirely on the bar, and there weren't many people left at Lezhu Financial Company; they had all gone to the bar.

Those old cronies of his also liked the bar business very much; the lively atmosphere of the bar allowed them to enjoy themselves thoroughly.

People are creatures that love to enjoy themselves—alcohol, beautiful women, money, a lively environment—who could refuse that?

"Lans is here." The office door was pushed open, and Fudisi poked his head in from outside.

Alberto glanced at him. "Let him in."

Not long after, Lans pushed the door open and entered. He glanced at the money piled high on the table, but there was no emotional fluctuation.

This bit of money wasn't even enough for one night of his.

He sat on the sofa, picked up a piece of fruit, and took a bite. "Business is good."

Alberto walked over with a smile and sat down beside Lans. "Please!"

"If it weren't for the fact that I wanted to figure out if anyone was messing with my money, I wouldn't even want to know how much I earned this week!"

"This is hard-earned money!"

He said this very solemnly, which made Lans cough violently!

He had choked on the fruit juice; he wouldn't have choked otherwise, but this sentence was just too damn funny!

Alberto looked at him, not quite understanding, as he coughed for a good while and even rolled his eyes at him; he couldn't quite figure out what he had done.

Once Lans had coughed enough, he took a deep breath, letting the air he inhaled expand his entire lung lobes; that feeling made him feel a bit more comfortable.

"Have you thought carefully about what kind of nonsense you're spouting?"

"Sitting in an office every day with nothing to do, collecting a table full of money every week—you call this hard-earned money?"

"If those workers on the docks knew you said that, they'd hammer you to death!"

Lans wore a look of disdain, but then both of them started laughing.

Alberto hugged Lans. "So, my brother, is there anything you need me to look after while you're here?"

This was just a casual remark, like two good friends meeting and one of them saying, "You're treating us to red high heels today, right?"—it was just a way of expressing emotion.

But what he didn't expect was for Lans to say one word: "Pharmaceuticals."

Alberto didn't quite understand. He looked at Lans. "Are you injured?"

Lans shook his head and said, "Paolo has a good relationship with the medical group. I want to get some medicine. You know, war is about to break out."

"So I plan to buy a batch of medicine and dump it when the war reaches its most intense point; I'll definitely make a fortune!"

Alberto looked at Lans's serious expression and felt a bit... he didn't know how to put it.

New Jincheng was about to descend into total chaos, and Lans was actually thinking about doing pharmaceutical business. He was caught between laughter and tears. "Lans, no matter how profitable medicine is, it can't be more profitable than alcohol!"

"And the city is about to become a mess. Even though you can make money hoarding a large batch of medicine now, the funds you have on hand will also be significantly reduced. Do you understand what I mean?"

"The time to spend money is coming soon!"

Once the melee starts, recruiting soldiers, buying horses, pensions, medical expenses, bounties for motivation—there are places to spend money everywhere!

However, Lans seemed to have already made a decision that no one could change. "I have other funds, but I want a batch of medicine. If you have extra money, you could actually get some too."

"When the war is at its most intense, the value of various specialty medicines is more expensive than gold or jewels of equal weight, and what it brings is not just money!"

The Grege family might only be a medium-sized gang in New Jincheng, but in some remote, feudal small countries, they are definitely people of great weight.

Because they have medicine in their hands, and this medicine can help rulers govern for longer. It is no longer just a manifestation of medical science, nor is it just wealth; it is an extension of power, it is political force!

Alberto thought for a while; he didn't understand this, so he waved his hand. "Since you think there's no problem with this, then do as you please."

"I'll help you contact Paolo..."

As he said this, he stood up and signaled to the two accountants that they could leave. Although the accounts hadn't been fully settled, he really didn't care much about this bit of money.

What he needed to do was to strike a pose, a pose of "I will check the accounts," so that those who wanted to reach out would learn to hesitate; that was enough!

The call was connected quickly. Alberto talked to Paolo roughly about it; Paolo was not only not opposed to it but was actually willing to facilitate it.

His relationship with the medical group was equivalent to... a gunman and an employer.

The gunmen of Sumuli had some fame worldwide, and the medical group faced a large number of disputes and lawsuits every year.

Some disputes and lawsuits they could handle themselves, but some disputes and lawsuits they couldn't handle within the rules!

For example, a certain company once, in order to push their specialty medicine to the market faster, didn't obtain enough clinical data, leading to hundreds of users developing serious complications!

The vast majority of them reached a settlement, took a sum of money, and signed a letter of understanding.

But there were also some people who, whether because they wanted more compensation or wanted to use what happened to them to warn the medical group, simply wouldn't compromise and wouldn't sign.

This kind of lawsuit couldn't be fought, because the longer it dragged on, the greater the harm it would cause!

After simple communication yielded no results, they found Paolo, and after paying a sum of money, these people disappeared.

Of course, when reporting to the outside world, they eventually accepted the company's terms and accepted follow-up treatment.

In an era where there wasn't even television and one had to rely on radio and newspapers to get news, if you had money, you could really do whatever you wanted!

Because the Pasleto family had a good reputation, high execution, and didn't leave traces easily, they were highly regarded by many.

This was actually a very absurd thing, because their killing technique was good, so they had some connections with big companies in high society.

For these medical groups, as long as Paolo was willing to pay, who they sold to didn't matter, right?

In fact, the more Paolo bought, the happier they were, because the money they gave Paolo was eventually earned back from Paolo, which meant Paolo was working for them for free!

Although this calculation wasn't quite correct, most people thought so.

Now Paolo was busy preparing for what was to come and couldn't attend to the medical group side. Now that Lans suddenly said he wanted to buy a large amount of medicine, it was equivalent to helping him maintain his relationship with the medical group.

How could he refuse this?

So he agreed immediately.

After the two communicated for a few sentences, Alberto turned his head to look at Lans. "The price of medicine has risen a little, about seven or eight percent. If you can accept this increase, then there's no problem at all."

"Also, Paolo wants to know how much money's worth of goods you need, so he can go and arrange the stock."

Lans crunched down on a crisp apple. "Three million in goods."

His molars crushed the apple, and the juice splashed out from his not-quite-closed mouth. Alberto was stunned for a while, then said, "You're crazy," but still told Paolo the number.

"He wants us to go over and talk in detail."

Taking three million in goods at once was enough for Paolo to spare some time.

Lans didn't have any other emotions about this; sometimes even between father and son, there are different expressions based on different interests, let alone that they weren't blood relatives and could only be considered ordinary friends.

After Alberto hung up the phone, he sat back down beside Lans. "Why is this medicine so valuable?"

Lans nodded. "Perhaps in half a year or a year, it will become six million, or even more."

Alberto was silent for a while. "But I don't need to invest so much capital; it will become that much in a year anyway."

The meaning of his words was very clear: if it was just to make money, this wasn't a suitable investment.

Opening a bar, or even selling alcohol, was the top business for this period!

Lans shook his head. In return for him providing the Luigi intelligence, he said softly, "When medicine is in short supply all over the world, whoever has medicine in their hands holds absolute initiative."

"What you can get is not just money, but also the friendship of these national ruling groups!"

Alberto was a bit unconvinced and retorted, "But the medical group can sell more medicine to them; we aren't as important as you think!"

"Have you considered this factor?"

"Those guys in the medical group who drink human blood won't let such an opportunity go!"

It couldn't be said that he was entirely wrong to say so. Lans revealed a smile. "But the federal government might not necessarily allow them to do so, or even allow them to sell to a certain country..."

That was enough said; there was no great significance in continuing. Alberto fell into thought.

At this time, in the manor, Paolo, who was arranging work, hung up the phone and frowned.

Muller, who was sitting to the side, asked, "What's wrong, Paolo?"

Paolo came back to his senses. "The call from Abe just now; he said Lans wants that batch of medicine."

"That impressive young man!" Muller nodded. "How much does he want? I'll have someone send it over. He helped us with some things, and he seems very important to Senator Williams's plan."

"Tens of thousands, a hundred thousand—just give it to him."

The reason the Five Great Families were the Five Great Families was not just because they had many people and many guns; their money was also plentiful.

Tens of thousands or a hundred thousand might just be a day or two of gross profit for the Five Great Families.

If they gave it, they gave it; it wouldn't have any impact on the entire family.

"He wants three million."

Muller gasped. "I understand; I'll go contact them right now."

About a few minutes later, Muller returned, his expression not quite natural; it looked like he had encountered trouble.

"Did they raise the price?"

Muller shook his head. "It's not a question of raising the price or not; they don't have much stock left now either. At most, they can only give us two million in goods first."

This made Paolo a bit curious. These people in the medical group couldn't be considered human at all.

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If they walked by the side of the road and saw a rock, they would pick it up and squeeze it until it bled just to lick it twice before tossing it back. How could they not make money?

Just like a while ago, Paolo had just taken a job from them. A reporter who was exaggerating the dependence on specialty painkillers had caused some ripples in public opinion.

This guy wasn't willing to take money to shut up, nor did he accept any threats. He always refused to compromise, saying something about "the public's right to know."

In the end, he disappeared completely.

So, he found it unbelievable that the medical group wouldn't make money when they could!

"The situation now might be a bit tense. The federal government placed a very large order. Out of respect for us, that's why they squeezed out this batch of goods."

Paolo also realized that the situation might really be a bit unusual, but even if Tanfei was beaten until the continent sank, it wouldn't have any direct impact on him.

On the contrary, if this hurdle couldn't be crossed, the Pasleto family would disappear forever.

"I remember the family still has some inventory; give it all to him."

Muller nodded in agreement. "That's the only way."

In the evening, Lans and Alberto arrived at the manor. Paolo received them personally and even had the cook make authentic Sumuli cuisine.

"Taste it, the most authentic Sumuli reef island cuisine." At the dining table, Paolo appeared very polite and very enthusiastic.

During his explanation, Lans learned that Sumuli cuisine actually divided into several factions; what Paolo and his people revered most was the reef island style—this was a tradition, a heritage.

It had to be said that the taste was indeed much better than so-called "federal cuisine"; at least they wouldn't treat fried chicken or roast chicken as one of the main courses!

Both sides avoided the content of Senator Williams's final private conversation with Lans. Smart people know not to ask what shouldn't be asked, and also know never to show off what shouldn't be shown off.

Paolo trusted Lans very much; he directly had Muller send all the medicine stored in the family over. As for the medicine from the medical group, it would take a few more days to be mobilized.

After the evening's social engagement ended, Paolo lay on the bed, feeling the soreness all over his body and the satisfaction brought by being able to rest; he let out a long sigh of relief.

Dover had been locked up for a while, and the matter of Lans being attacked had gradually stopped being discussed. At the pleading of some people, Dover was finally released.

Dover, who had just been released from confinement, finally felt the long-lost joy of freedom again!

There was actually a group of partners around him, and in the family, there were also some elders supporting him; otherwise, he couldn't have been so unscrupulous.

If his father hadn't died, there wouldn't be the Paolo of today. At the same time, his father wasn't a small fry back then either; those who were once his father's friends and relatives had now become his resources.

This time when he came out, Paolo didn't arrange work for him. On one hand, Paolo thought Dover wasn't suitable for work right now; once things became chaotic, he couldn't guarantee Dover's safety.

On the other hand, not letting him work was actually to prevent him from causing trouble.

He was already annoying enough at home; if he were let out again, who knows if it would trigger some unexpected changes.

Dover was not a mature person.

If he were truly a mature person, he would understand the principle that he should respect Paolo, instead of going against him.

Perhaps it was because Paolo felt he owed Dover's family a great deal that he indulged Dover to the point where he was already an adult but still appeared very childish in some aspects.

Two days after coming out, Dover went to the warehouse; he planned to take a batch of medicine to sell.

Recently, the price of medicine had been rising; it was a good time to sell medicine, but only when he went to the warehouse did he discover that the medicine that was everywhere was actually gone!

Under his questioning, he learned from the younger generation of the family that these medicines had all been sent to Lans.

This made Dover even angrier; he felt Lans was targeting him!

Even Paolo wouldn't help him!

In the evening, he took a few people to the bar to drink and drown his sorrows.

Like most young people, he didn't have any savings; the only difference was that most young people couldn't earn money, so they had no savings.

And he was too good at earning money, so he didn't have any savings.

He had always spent money as soon as he had it; when he had more money, he bought things. He loved motorcycles and cars and had already bought several villas and even a wharf warehouse to display his "collectibles."

Recently, he had taken a fancy to a new racing car that cost over seventy thousand. He had originally thought about getting a batch of medicine to sell to scrape together this money, but he didn't expect that he actually couldn't do it!

The more high-end the racing car, the worse the sales, and the production naturally wouldn't be high; sell one, and there's one less.

Watching the racing car he coveted being bought by someone else, he took his people and plunged into the bar to drown his sorrows in alcohol.

Every time he thought of Paolo's partiality, he felt unwilling!

Drinking until he was a bit intoxicated, he stepped on the coffee table with a flushed face and said to the people beside him—

"If it weren't for my father taking a bullet for him back then, it would be hard to say who would be the boss of the Pasleto family now!"