Chapter 38: Wanli

On Wednesday, Officer Bradden entered Lans’s identity information into the Jincheng City records database.

If anyone sought to look up his personal details, they would find a file under Mr. White’s family.

Lans appears in this file under the name “Steven (formerly known as),” and now he goes by Lans White.

Officer Bradden also applied for a Social Security number and a personal tax ID for him; with these two, Lans became a true Federal citizen.

Even the President himself could not question the legitimacy of his status as a Federal citizen!

“My promise to you will always hold,” Officer Bradden said, handing Lans a file folder containing documents, his smile genuine.

“My promise” meant that if anyone else came to him for help resolving identity issues, and they were referred by Lans, he would offer a discount and charge less.

After he publicly announced his ability to resolve Federal identity problems, many people had already contacted him.

The most generous one promised to pay four hundred dollars if he could solve the person’s identity issue.

Although the movement in Jincheng City had already begun its decline from its peak, this did not mean public sentiment toward illegal immigrants—or even legal ones—had improved.

In the roughly two to three weeks since, countless immigrant-owned shops had been attacked, vandalized, looted, and burned, causing economic losses impossible to estimate.

Last week, The Federal Daily ran a front-page photo depicting the Jincheng riots: five police officers stood with hands on hips behind a patrol car, watching a dozen hooded individuals sprinting out of a jewelry store.

Jewelry and gold and silver items lay scattered on the ground where they had dropped them in their escape; the shop owner rushed out, clutching a wound on his forehead, helplessly watching them go.

The image carried strong motion and had a massive impact across the entire Federation.

Even now, reports of immigrant shops being robbed still surfaced regularly.

Fortunately, this time they made no distinction between shop owners’ origins, and Federal citizens had also suffered—this was a multiethnic nation.

It was hard to tell whether a shop owner was an immigrant based on racial features alone.

Some picked cotton in the fields; others sat in luxury homes, holding crystal goblets in polished leather shoes.

Beyond that, many immigrants had been attacked, beaten, and robbed; thus, at this moment, illegal immigrants burned with a desperate desire for legal status.

Officer Bradden had already taken on this job; the process was second nature to him, and he expected to earn at least one hundred to two hundred dollars in profit from this deal!

All he needed to do was check the records, then take someone to a poor person in need of money and say, “Hey, this is your long-lost family!”

Yes, family—not necessarily a child, but sometimes an elderly person who had gone missing.

Whether they would accept a stranger as their father for two hundred dollars—or even less—depended on how desperately they needed money.

In short, Officer Bradden was truly going to get rich!

“Thank you for your generosity, Officer Bradden.”

The officer laughed loudly and slapped Lans on the arm. “You say that and make me feel like a miser.”

“From the bottom of my heart.”

After ending that topic, he asked, “Now that you have Federal status, what do you plan to do next?”

Lans did not hide his intentions, since he would need to work with Officer Bradden again: “I plan to start a company—or possibly many companies.”

“What kind?”

“Anything.”

Hearing Lans’s answer, Officer Bradden thought he might be daydreaming, yet also wondered if Lans truly had a good business strategy.

But it wasn’t his concern; his mind was full of the recent data he’d reviewed, which stated Jincheng City had at least 150,000 illegal immigrants.

This market was damn huge!

At the same time, he had turned from a supporter of the President into an opponent, because the President promised to gradually resolve illegal immigrants’ status issues—this was literally destroying his business, and he had to earn as much as possible, fast.

After their conversation ended, Officer Bradden hurried off to work on his fortune-making venture, while Lans went directly to the City Services Bureau.

Different places had different rules; as the jewel of Federal economic development, Jincheng City’s government operations differed from those of other cities.

The City Business Services Bureau offered full services to businesspeople planning to settle in Jincheng, including registering business tax IDs—all handled here.

It was undeniably convenient; when Lans arrived, he found a line already forming.

Every day, gold seekers from around the world came here with dreams of the Federation; some might become icons of an era, but most became mere nourishment for this city.

“Sir, how may I assist you?” The woman behind the counter was beautiful, her voice pleasant, though her attire was slightly conservative.

Lans’s gaze never lingered on the curves hidden beneath her clothes; he looked straight into her eyes. “I seem to be lucky today.”

“Sorry?” The girl didn’t understand his meaning.

“Because I saw an angel in Angel City,” Lans said with a slight smile; combined with his fairly handsome face, it made the girl’s cheeks flush instantly.

“You really know how to talk…” She touched her warm cheeks. “What brings you here?”

Lans then said, “I want to register a company, but I’m unsure about the procedures, so…”

“I’ll help you!” The girl spoke with firm resolve—this was the power of a few kind words.

Lans had no objection to complimenting her again: “Like an angel!”

She was thoroughly embarrassed, but it was work hours, and she had to complete her duties.

“What kind of company do you plan to establish?”

“One that solves problems for people. They come to me for advice, I provide answers, and I charge a fee.”

The girl nodded as she filled out the forms for Lans.

These forms were complex; without guidance, filling them out alone might require hiring a lawyer.

But the girl solved all these problems for him.

“Have you chosen a name for your company yet?”

“Yes, ‘Wanli.’ By the way, if I plan to open more types of companies later, do I need to register each separately, or can I just expand the business scope?”

The girl hadn’t expected Lans’s question to be so thoughtful, but it was no problem for her: “If all your operations are in the same office location, one company is enough.”

“If your operations are in separate, independent locations, it’s best to establish a parent company to manage them, and the names should not be identical.”

After filling out part of the form, she handed it to Lans: “You need to provide your personal information here. We can’t yet determine whether your chosen company name is already taken—it will take at least three days to verify.”

She added, “This requires coordination with the State Office; you know, they’re overwhelmed with work and often delay things for a week. But I’ll call to urge them.”

She glanced at Lans’s name and memorized it, then pointed to several blank fields on the form, instructing him how to fill them; Lans completed them all without issue.

The entire process was fast, and no lawyer was needed.

“You’ll also need a bank account and a business tax ID. You must apply for the bank account yourself, but we can handle the tax ID here.”

“Do you need it?”

“Of course,” Lans replied. “By the way, how should I address you?”

“Patricia, Patricia Lawrence.”

“Pleased to meet you, Miss Angel. I’m Lans White.”

The girl giggled quietly and extended her hand to shake his. “Likewise.”

She looked delighted. “I need to get back to work…”—as if pretending to cover her ears while ringing a bell—she touched her burning cheeks. “Sign here, and please leave a phone number so we can contact you.”