Chapter 342: 343. Chapter 339: Choices and Confronting God

343. Chapter 339: Choices and Confronting God

Philip was a little nervous, his palms drenched in sweat.

From the very first day he arrived in Jingang City, he had been hearing rumors connected to Lans.

People loved talking about things related to Lans — it wasn't just the Imperial immigrants chatting about him, even other minorities and the Federation people themselves would bring him up all the time.

Because Lans had also climbed up from the bottom, going from an exploited worker in an ordinary bakery to a family head in just one year.

It seemed a little unbelievable, but the Federation people didn't think so, because they had already witnessed too many miracles!

Like the self-made entrepreneur who came to the big city from his hometown with a sack of potatoes, and within three years was worth over a hundred million, becoming the largest shareholder of a Shangshi Company.

Like the high school graduate who could barely speak properly, who after his own redemption and awakening suddenly became a star salesman, a senior partner at the firm, with more wealth pouring in every day than he could count.

Even more outrageous were the legends tied to finance — like the one who entered the stock market at fourteen with a hundred dollars, had his first million in less than two years, his first ten million in five…

There were just too many stories like this!

So many that people almost subconsciously believed "I might be the next one to make it in the Alliance," which is why a poor kid becoming a family head in a year and owning an entire territory of his own in Jingang City actually seemed rather plain.

Fine, it really was plain — compared to those Federation dreams that people wrote about at length, Lans's story was at most a sweet dream, and one people could put themselves into.

Everything about him seemed replicable — say, having a few fearless brothers willing to fight and kill, then starting to seize territory, and eventually becoming a gang boss?

When Philip first arrived and slept in a culvert listening to rumors about Lans, he had more than once put himself into Lans's story; it made it much easier for him to fall asleep quickly in that miserable place.

Now that he was meeting the real Lans, and Lans was about to grant him a wish, he suddenly had a rough idea of what he should say.

And he was very nervous — that kind of nervousness you feel when facing your idol.

He stammered for a while without being able to say anything, and Lans didn't rush him, instead taking the initiative to offer some suggestions. "You can join the Lans family and become part of our big family."

"If you don't like the excitement of family life, you can also take a sum of money from me and open a shop in the city, if you have a trade."

"I can also arrange for you to apprentice at another shop, and once you've learned the trade I'll support you in opening your own."

"Even if you simply want a sum of money to solve your current predicament, that's fine too, Philip."

"These things have helped me a great deal, you don't need to feel uneasy about it, because you've earned them!"

Philip mulled over the choices Lans had offered, and after a quick glance at Elvin, said, "I want to join the family, Mr. Lans."

"Why?" Lans asked. "I'm not refusing to let you join, I'm just curious, because I offered other options that seem better."

"Safe, respectable, with a bright future ahead — why did you choose the most dangerous one?"

A small smile appeared on Philip's face. "Because you gave me a job, Mr. Lans."

"My mother told me that if someone does me a kindness, I must repay it."

Lans smiled a little after hearing that. "Your mother must be a great mother!" He paused. "No problem — from now on, you are a member of the family."

"I'll have someone arrange a training plan for you first, and once you've finished training, you can start working for the family."

"This may take some time — do you need to say a temporary goodbye to your friends?"

Philip nodded. "That would be best, Mr. Lans."

"We're family now — call me Lans, not Mr. Lans!" He tidied the notebooks on the desk. "Also, don't let word of these things get out."

"At least not until I give permission!"

Philip looked a little excited. "I promise, Lans…" He had wanted to add "Mr." but gave up on it.

What Lans said, he would obey!

Lans gestured for Elvin to take the man out first, then his gaze fell on the notebooks.

Leverage on the Bay Area.

That was why Bisam and Buck had killed themselves — they had leverage on the Bay Area, had these people by the throat. But unfortunately, that fool Buck and the people above him, including the head of the Kamala gang, Heller.

None of them had ever considered how valuable these things were; they simply provided all sorts of perverted services to the Bay Area's gentlemen in exchange for some of their support.

They were like dogs with broken spines, unable to stand up straight again — even when a knife was placed in their hands, what they did with that sharp blade wasn't hurt their enemies, but peel apples for them.

But there was something here that puzzled Lans — Sam was clearly the mayor's man, so why had he kept these important things to himself instead of handing them over to the mayor?

If the mayor had these things in hand now, there would be no question of any confrontation or counterattack!

With his ability he could easily control the entire Bay Area, and in that situation, who counted as a "local" would really be hard to say!

He couldn't figure it out, and could only chalk it all up to Sam's greed or caution — he clearly wanted more, so he hid these things, and in the end it was Lans who benefited.

He split the notebooks apart and placed them into more than ten different kraft paper envelopes, which would be stored separately, to make sure that even if someone discovered something, they wouldn't get all the evidence at once.

Something extremely valuable to the mayor was, for him, now a bit of a hot potato — because the moment these things leaked, he would face attacks from every force in the Bay Area.

Even Paul couldn't speak up for him this time!

But it also gave him a new card to play — once everything was over, who the master of this city was seemed to have become hard to pin down again!

Saturday morning was still the gathering, and now there were even more people outside St. Naya Cathedral, because of the Imperial Chamber of Commerce.

As long as Lans could keep leading everyone to make money, these people would remain his most devout followers!

When the priest saw Lans, he smiled as if he were seeing his Lord — he had also joined the Imperial Chamber of Commerce, and the funds God had entrusted to him had been poured into the medicine-buying plan.

The medicines had already filled the warehouse, and they had begun to turn a profit.

The profit margin wasn't high, only about two or three thousandths, but every day the price ticked up slightly from the day before!

That was a good thing — though the earnings weren't large, they were steady, and Lans had discussed it with them at their meetings.

The war hadn't fully broken out yet, so a lot of supplies were still in circulation, and Tanfit, as the world's largest continent by area, was also extremely rich in resources and produce!

Once the war broke out, the extraction and transport of these resources would run into problems, and with supplies tight — war aside — these medicines would skyrocket!

Not to mention the war itself — people's fear of death would start to magnify, and the price of medicines would rise accordingly.

Some Imperial Chamber of Commerce members discussed privately, and they felt the final price of these medicines might be over five million!

Every time he heard that number, the priest couldn't help laughing out loud — sometimes he felt even God wasn't as lovable as Lans!

Though God had also helped him escape poverty, when it came to really making big money, he still had to count on Lans!

"Looks like a lot of people came today," Lans said, glancing around — everywhere, people!

The priest was slightly stooped, though he himself hadn't even noticed it — it was purely instinctive, a subconscious posture, not something he did on purpose.

"More and more people are coming here now, I'm worried that soon our courtyard won't be able to hold so many people!"

Lans looked around. The area around the Holy Naya Cathedral was open ground and roads. The God the Empire people believed in and the God the Federation people believed in should, broadly speaking, be the same one.

But many old Empire people firmly believed that the Empire's God was not the Federation's God, and was even a notch higher than the Federation's God.

So they would only go to the three churches within the Empire District, not to churches in other districts.

By today's standards, the size of these churches was indeed a bit small.

"How much would it cost to rebuild a church?"???? The priest didn't catch on for a moment. "If it's just repairs, about two thousand dollars should be enough."

"We could repaint the outer walls, and then buy some new stained glass from within the Empire!" He looked around, then gave Lans a 'don't tell anyone' look. "I shouldn't say this, but God actually likes fresh things too!"

Lans could barely hold back a laugh. "How did he tell you that?"

"He told me in a dream!" The priest spoke as if it were the absolute truth!

Lans placed his hand on the priest's shoulder. "I mean, I plan to fund the rebuilding of the Holy Naya Cathedral. Looking at it now, it's both rundown and small!"

"Buy up the surrounding land, and we'll build a bigger one — a bigger lawn, a bigger church, and get you a bigger God too!"

"My God!" The priest finally understood what Lans was saying. He nervously took off his hat, revealing a mostly shiny bald head with only a few strands of hair remaining!

He was bald!

Normally he stood on a raised platform, so people wouldn't notice — but he was actually already bald!

If it were just baldness, it wouldn't actually be that terrible.

The terrible part was that Lans could also see some spots exposed on his bald patch — possibly age spots, but in the Bible these were a symbol of "uncleanness"!

If it happened to an ordinary person… people would say that ordinary person wasn't a true believer, but nothing else would come of it.

But when it happened to a priest — a servant of God who ministered to Him — and he turned out to be unclean, some fanatical believers would drive him out of here!

However, in the face of such a massive investment, he no longer cared about exposing these little problems of his!

"How much do you plan to invest?"

"That depends on how much it costs to rebuild a bigger church and buy up the surrounding land. Go ask around, get someone to draw up a budget. If it's not too outrageous, I'll fund it."

He took his hand off the priest's shoulder. "I'm going to chat with some others. Your time's up!"

As soon as the priest left, Rogerov (the old man from the Commerce Guild) came over with some of the Empire Commerce Guild's core members.

Although Lans hadn't carried out a more detailed hierarchical division within the Empire Commerce Guild — because right now they weren't yet a stable, cohesive whole, and a hasty division of ranks would make people feel somewhat resentful.

First let them make money, make them unable to leave the Guild, rather than waiting until the Guild couldn't do without them to do this — the resistance would be much smaller that way.

However, they themselves had already made a distinction based on the capital they had invested.

The top ten percent by investment were the core. No one knew who first proposed it. Rogerov had also invested quite a lot — not the most, but he was more familiar with Lans, so he served even more as the others' representative.

After some brief small talk, Rogerov brought up old Mr. Hampton. "He's been clamoring to thank you in person for your help. That bill was more than they could afford. If it weren't for you, he said his next meeting with his family would have been at a cemetery through a tombstone, not at a hospital bedside."

The matter had already spread completely throughout the Empire District. Once it spread, Lans didn't really want to bring it up himself. Others said it was recognition of him, but he always felt that mentioning it himself would come across as showing off.

"Let him recover from his injuries first, no need to worry about anything else." He paused, looking at Rogerov. "Do you have something else you want to say?"

Rogerov glanced at the people beside him. "We're planning to set aside a sum of money to establish something like… a civilian security team."

"On paper it would be under the Commerce Guild — the Guild's security team — but the main job of those young people, just like some of the young people in the Lans family, would be patrolling the streets."

"There are a lot of middle-aged and elderly people here. If they run into those young criminals, they really don't have much ability to resist — especially when those criminals are armed."

"So we want to arrange for some people to keep patrolling the streets. That way we can reduce some sudden incidents, and recently the public order has really been terrible!"

Thieves, robbers, and other crimes — even violent ones — could now often be seen on the edges of the Empire District. Public order throughout the entire city was rapidly collapsing.

The police didn't care, the mayor didn't care, and Councilman Williams and the Bay Area cared even less about leaving. Everyone's demands had, bizarrely and eerily, converged on the exact same point!

Lans nodded after listening. "I think it's fine. This is a good thing. People being able to step up and protect ourselves — that's far more effective than us always relying on others to protect us. I'll support it!"

Rogerov breathed a sigh of relief. He had been afraid Lans would mistake their doing this for opposing the Lans family, so he had laid it all out plainly from the start.

"Once public order improves, we can just disband it. Right now it's just for emergencies!"

Lans, however, had a different view. "No, it can stay even after public order improves. On one hand, it can solve employment for some people. On the other hand, like I just said, our own people protecting our own people will obviously be more dedicated than Federation people protecting us."

"You could even ask around if anyone wants to join the police department — I can arrange some placements."

Rogerov and the people beside him were overjoyed upon hearing this. "That would be even better!"

After they left, other Empire immigrants began voluntarily coming over to shake Lans's hand and exchange a few words.

The people were very civilized, following some unspoken convention, lining up in an orderly fashion. No one cut in line, no one jostled. Civilization seemed to blanket the entire world at that moment.

But if you thought this was real, you'd be wrong.

People's adherence to the rules wasn't because their quality had improved — it was simply because the person they were about to face was Lans, and nothing more!

The gathering didn't end until a little past one in the afternoon. Elvin came over and told Lans that Johnny had been discharged from the hospital.

However, he was now sitting in a wheelchair with his arm in a cast, and his family along with some fairly close friends had wheeled him to the docks.

They planned to demand compensation and medical expenses from the management company.

"Have our people been arranged?" Lans asked as he got into the car.

Elvin nodded. "Everything's arranged, and we've even bribed a few security guards."

Lans was always very reassured, and very satisfied, with the way he handled things.

Sometimes neither side of a conflict knows how it escalated. The reason is this — it's not just the two of them watching each other; there's a third party watching them too!

The moment Johnny's family, along with some relatives and coworkers, appeared at the docks, suddenly a lot of people started joining their group.

At first three or five, then seven or eight, later a dozen or more, even more.

And within the crowd, some people held up pre-made signs — things like "Return the wages you stole from us" or "No more silence from today on" — the kind that could stir up strong emotions in people, in short.

His family was baffled, but Johnny could vaguely sense that these things were connected to Lans. However, he didn't say it out loud.

After lying in the hospital for two days, he had suddenly picked up a bit of insight into performing. He was worried his family wouldn't act well, so up to now he hadn't told anyone that this was a "performance."

Seeing the large crowd of workers blocking the entrance to the dock management company's building, the dock management company hurriedly dispatched a large number of security guards and began actively contacting Worn.

Since they couldn't reach Scott, they could only contact Worn.

At times like this, it was usually when the Dock Workers' Union would show up — the capitalists needed the union to pacify these protesting workers and get them back to their posts!

It's just that Worn wasn't here right now; it would take some time for him to get back.

The dock management company could only choose to handle it coldly for now — not show up, not respond.

But the workers confronting the security guards inexplicably began to grow increasingly agitated…