Chapter 37: A New Beginning

The political game at the top of the Federation seems to have appeared some turning points—

"The Federation government has never indulged anyone to treat Imperial immigrants differently, regardless of whether they came to the Federation through legal channels!"

Before facing these accusations, the Federation President did not respond, but this time, he said these were rumors. Even if there were, they were just isolated events, not political movements or political events.

The Federation is a highly open, free, tolerant, and inclusive country, allowing any peace-loving people in the world to live here.

For all unrealistic accusations, the Federation government will not admit them. At the same time, the President will gradually open up channels and ways for illegal immigrants to apply for permanent residency cards.

In addition, for the immoral practice of the Empire unilaterally using military force as

But if the Imperial army dares to violate federal territory, the federal government will inevitably launch a fierce counterattack...

On the television, the President stood at the podium, speaking passionately and waving his fists to emphasize his points. Outside the frame, there was a dense crowd of people, and as he spoke, they kept waving their arms and cheering loudly.

Long strings of political jargon poured from his mouth, as if the Federation were about to become the happiest country in the world...

After finishing his cigarette, the television in the cabinet stopped playing, and Lans restarted the car and returned to the house.

Alberto did not revoke the right to use this car; after all, it was worth two hundred dollars at most.

Even though, logically speaking, it would be fair, legal, and reasonable for him to take the car back.

He gave the car directly to Lans to use; trading two hundred dollars for a favor was actually a pretty worthwhile business.

When he returned to the house, his companions were sitting in the living room discussing something, and they all stood up when Lans entered.

"After leaving the Empire, we only have each other. We are a family, brothers and sisters; there is no need for this."

He walked over to Mero and sat down, sitting on the floor instead of the sofa.

He sat cross-legged, huddled together with the others, without the slightest intention of sitting on a chair and looking down at them just because he had rented the house and solved everyone's survival problems.

Even though they had already left a chair for him, he did not sit in it.

Sometimes, moving others is actually a very simple thing, and this kind of emotional impact will accompany them for their whole lives; they won't forget it even until they die.

"What are you all discussing?" He glanced at Ethan, who was sitting by the door. "I have two cartons of cigarettes, a few bottles of wine, and some food in the car. Help me bring them over."

After hearing this, Ethan grinned from ear to ear, his big yellow teeth exposed.

Dinner was just ordinary vegetable leaves mixed with coarse grain rice—soybeans, kidney beans, chickpeas, red beans, all kinds of beans, and some wheat kernels. These things were actually high-quality feed sold for horses.

But in reality, there was no problem with people eating them, and the price wasn't high; many poor people ate this kind of thing to fill their stomachs.

If working like cattle and horses is only the same in terms of physical labor, then now that people are also eating the feed that only cattle and horses eat, there is actually no difference between them anymore.

Lans asked a question, and when he learned that everyone was eating vegetable leaves mixed with beans for dinner, he couldn't help but frown, "Didn't I tell you to let everyone eat better?"

He was asking Mero. He had given Mero a sum of money; Mero was older than the others and more steady, so there was absolutely no problem with him being in charge of everyone's living arrangements.

Mero was a little embarrassed, "If we eat bread or anything else, we can eat a lot of it. Since we aren't working right now, we don't need to eat that well."

A very simple reason. Lans patted him on the shoulder; he knew this was Mero trying to save money. There were over twenty young people around eighteen, nineteen, or twenty years old.

If they were allowed to eat their fill, they could eat forty or fifty pounds of food, or even more, in a single meal!

Even if they only ate ordinary food, a meal could cost two or three dollars, maybe three or five dollars, which meant seven or eight, or even ten dollars a day!

Who the hell could afford to live like that?

A monthly food budget of three hundred dollars was unimaginably high, and most importantly, they had no income now and could only sit and watch their savings dwindle.

It was all up to Lans... although it was possible, Mero didn't think this method was advisable, so he bought the cheapest beans to mix in—a few cents a pound, and very filling.

Even Ethan couldn't finish his meal after eating less than two pounds of the vegetable and bean mixture.

"Don't worry about work. I saw the news when I came back; it will be restored soon."

Lans didn't say too much. In fact, he thought this was a very likely reality, because for the President, he only needed a positive "response" to the provocation from the Imperial Emperor, using the excuse of "preventing an Imperial army attack" to put the country on a war footing and invoke presidential privileges, and he would definitely be re-elected!

In other words, as long as he wasn't afraid of the aftereffects of doing so, his re-election was a sure thing.

Therefore, the root of this political game was not whether the President could be re-elected, but how many benefits he could offer in order to be re-elected.

The riots in New Jincheng were essentially a "glimpse" of the political struggle between the two sides. The economic engine had stalled, and soon the forces of capital would take action.

Under the coordination of capital forces, the political factions reached a compromise, the President received the promise of re-election, and the dispute ended.

But for the underclass, they couldn't see these things. They only saw the President saying that the Federation would become greater, and then they inexplicably began to get excited and cheer—that was all.

They didn't know why their lives had become such a mess, and they didn't know why a good life never favored them.

Ethan walked in carrying the large bags of food. Everyone sat in a circle; the cigarettes, wine, and food were placed within their reach.

Lans had bought a lot of fried chicken. This stuff was much cheaper than beef or mutton. Since large-scale mechanized livestock farming began to develop, the prices of chicken and duck changed every day.

Three fried chickens for a dollar, fragrant and delicious—who could refuse that?

Added to some other food, high in sugar and oil, the sense of happiness was instantly maxed out!

They smoked, drank, and imagined the future; everything was so wonderful!

While enjoying the food and chatting, Mero asked a question, "After this... movement is over, are we still going back to work at the docks?"

The others also looked at Lans. In this small group, he was the "head of the family."

"How much money can you earn by working there?" he asked.

The others stopped talking. After paying for food and drink and being exploited by the capitalists, having three or five dollars left at the end of the month was the limit.

Everyone actually knew that working there wasn't the way out, but they just didn't know what else they could do besides working there.

Lans picked up a cigarette, and Mero immediately took a match to light it for him. With a *crack*, the smoke rising from the friction of the match and the rapidly expanding flame added a hint of gunpowder to the room.

Some people like the smell of gunpowder.

Lans drank a little wine, his cheeks slightly flushed, "I used to work at Jonny's bakery. Even if he didn't deduct from my wages, I only had fifteen dollars a month."

"But the gangs and the police took at least dozens of dollars from his hands every month."

"There are dozens of shops on that street. Even if other places don't get that much money, twenty or thirty, or even just a dozen dollars, that's still a huge sum of money."

"Of course, I'm just giving an example; I'm not telling you that I intend to do this. In fact, this is a dirty job."

"It doesn't pay much, and it's annoying. Once something unpleasant happens, the first ones to be abandoned are the people and organizations responsible for collecting the money."

"What I want to say is that there are many ways to make money, and many ways to make big money. Don't just stare at the little money from working."

"Look at these capital crocodiles in the Federation, look at those political families—how many of them got where they are by working a regular job?"

Mero was a little dazed, and the others were the same, "Then what are we going to do?"

"Start a company."

"Start a company?" Mero scratched his head, "I remember that to start a company, you need a permanent resident card or citizenship to register. Are you looking for someone to help you register?"

Lans shook his head, "My status will be updated soon, and then I will register it myself."

"And you all are my employees. I have even decided what to do, and I can guarantee that as long as you follow me properly, I guarantee that each of you will be able to afford a house, afford a car..."

"Before that, I need you to be mentally prepared."

"Earning more money means taking greater risks—mentally and physically, be prepared for both."

"Then, together with me, go and meet the storm of the era!"