Chapter 478: 417. Chapter 411: A Hundred Thousand Eyes and Bankruptcy

417. Chapter 411: A Hundred Thousand Eyes and Bankruptcy

Upon hearing Lans's order to eliminate the smugglers, his expression shifted slightly.

Then he glanced again at the small card in his hand and said, "I don't target the innocent."

Though he engaged in black-on-black operations, he never considered himself evil.

The bootleggers deserved hell, but the alcohol itself was innocent; he agreed with most people that prohibition was a foolish policy.

He sold the liquor to Lans regardless of whether Lans was good or bad—he remained the people's guardian, the safeguard of the coast.

But if he struck ordinary innocents, then he truly would be no good man—he did not wish to become one.

That would make it impossible for him to face his family, his children.

In truth, everyone holds some inexplicable line: a man who spends his days glued to screens, easily entertained by any random source, might still have a Dixian —refusing certain films, or never laying hands on certain actresses.

To others, such a line seems as absurd as defecating in one's pants, yet some people cling to it anyway.

Lans had his line. MacCork had his too.

"Those aren't innocent people!" Lans explained. "They're assassins from Xiang Yalan. Their arrival brings only harm and disaster. Leaving them forever at sea is the right choice."

"Once they reach Jingang, they'll plunge into gang wars. They're outsiders, with no love for this place, and no one can control them."

"They'll bring suffering to the residents and shatter social stability. You have no moral burden—just kill them."

MacCork still hesitated. "Can I know who these people belong to?"

"Rick's men."

At the name, MacCork's mind conjured a face. He looked at Lans, eyes wide with shock. "You want to move against his people?"

"You're insane. Those are the Five Families!"

Lans wore a faint, unreadable smile. He offered MacCork a cigarette. "Who says we can't move against the Five Families?"

He lit his own cigarette, drew in smoke, and exhaled it toward MacCork.

The gesture was not friendly. MacCork frowned, leaning back in his chair. "If they find out it was us, they'll sink us into Angel Lake."

Lans shook his head slightly. "Before they became the Five Families, they were just ordinary gangs. Were you ever this afraid of them?"

"Even as the Five Families, they're no different from us. Shoot one in the chest—he bleeds. Shoot him again—he dies."

"Besides, the Cassia family is in trouble. They're targeting him."

MacCork stared at Lans, as if trying to dig beneath his surface.

After two or three seconds, he lit his cigarette, raised his head, and asked, "Including you?"

"Including me."

After a moment's thought, MacCork agreed. "If they're truly assassins, then I'll do it."

Lans handed him a brown paper bag. "Five thousand inside. Split it with your friends."

How much of that money MacCork actually shared didn't matter to Lans—even better if he kept it all for himself.

MacCork ran his fingers over the bag. Its weight gave him an inexplicable sense of satisfaction.

He always felt he might have something wrong with him.

He hadn't spent much of that money. Most of what he spent now came from his savings—hard-earned through labor.

Before, he dared not spend freely. Now, he spent without restraint—and life changed.

He hadn't touched much of that money, yet somehow, his attitude toward life, and his family's, had shifted entirely.

It made him realize clearly: money truly mattered.

He muttered, "Thank you," and clutched the paper bag. "I'll send word…"

At the same moment, in the Koda family estate, Rick and Bandi sat together, with Gao Li and Fleming, and Shi Dong nearby.

"I spoke with Feijia. He's willing to stay neutral—but his condition is that the Pasreto family's territory in Starlight District be handed over to him."

Starlight District was never fully controlled by any single faction, for its wealth was too immense—no one family could swallow it all.

Thus, the Five Families each held their own patches there, seizing the best resources and leaving the mediocre, inferior ones for nearby gangs to divide—forming Starlight District's underground order.

Feijia coveted Pasreto's territory: two blocks, with an opera house, two cinemas, bars, dance halls, nightclubs—all of them.

Seizing these would merge them into his own domain, creating a larger, more manageable territory.

Rick's face darkened. "He thinks real well of himself. Why should he get half the spoils without lifting a finger?"

"If he doesn't lift a finger, I'd consider giving him a single bar too generous."

Bandi sipped his tea, savoring the premium black tea from Laise Islands, infused with subtle aromatic spices.

The tea tasted excellent—though the price was certainly not cheap. At over a hundred per pound, it sat at the ceiling.

He savored the aftertaste, set the cup back on its saucer, and said with implication, "If Pasreto and Tita both fall, the Five Families will be reduced to three."

He looked at Rick. Their eyes exchanged silent signals, subtle hints.

Rick's gaze shifted. He seemed to grasp the unspoken meaning in Bandi's words. "Feijia and the Bear Gang's fight left both sides crippled."

Bandi nodded. "Yes. That's one reason they're staying neutral."

"Then what if we…" He probed with his eyes. Bandi turned his gaze away, revealing a knowing smile.

That smile told him: he thought the same as Bandi.

But neither spoke it aloud.

Kill the Keen family—and divide all of Jingang City between them!

Rick was no fool. A fool could never reach the position of Five Families' leader. The Cassia and Koda families could coexist—or rather, Koda could coexist with any family, gang, or organization.

Their profit model was simple: entirely centered on casinos.

They'd long used various channels of influence to prevent the state government from approving new casino licenses, monopolizing the industry—and reaping enormous profits.

So enormous they never needed to consider expanding their business!

When your business brings in far more than any other, you rarely risk venturing elsewhere.

The rest? Naturally, it's all his.

The agreement was settled. Bandi exhaled smoke. "I heard Lans has joined their little alliance."

"Lans?" Rick blinked, then sneered. "Have they sunk so low as to ally with such a minor gang?"

"Disappointing."

He was also curious about Bandi's source. "Who told you?"

Gao Li spoke up. "The source is solid. It came straight from Sari Fu."

"And don't underestimate Lans and his Lans family. They've firmly controlled two districts. According to my intel, their core members now exceed five hundred."

Rick was startled. "That many?"

His expression grew grave. "Then he's a real threat."

"Jingang City hasn't seen a gang this powerful in a long time. We can't let him expand further. This time, we eliminate them too."

Each district in Jingang City had two or three major gangs, plus smaller factions beneath them.

It seemed irrational—but it was perfectly logical. The entire underground world of Jingang was pyramid-shaped.

Multiple gangs were placed in every district, choking off expansion space.

If a gang wanted to grow, it had to wage war on others—whereupon one of the Five Families would intervene to mediate, always ensuring no single gang grew too powerful.

The Five Families needed stability, not new challengers.

But lately, chaos had been rampant. The turmoil had blinded them to Lans family's silent, rapid expansion—until they realized it had reached an alarming scale.

If it continued, Lans could threaten the Five Families' rule.

Perhaps this was why Sari Fu leaked the news: Lans family would join them against Cassia.

It warned everyone: a new challenger had emerged. And it drew attention—and fire—toward Lans family.

Sari Fu's motives were not pure.

"It's not surprising he'd do this," Bandi added. "If they win, with Lans family's current strength and his ties to Alberto, they'll form a bloc."

"Then Sari Fu and his group become the weakest. Dragging Lans family into the spotlight serves that purpose."

Rick nodded. "So what's our first move?"

Bandi inhaled smoke with elegant calm. "First, eliminate Sari Fu. Until Pasreto's internal issues are resolved, Alberto won't be able to turn against us. If he stays still, Lans won't move either. And I'll speak with them."

"Nothing in this world is unsolvable. It's only a matter of whether they accept our offer—that's all."

Rick didn't object. "I'll begin arrangements."

"When will you strike?"

He glanced at his watch, its calendar visible. "Within a week. The assassins need time to acclimate. This time, we aim to knock him down outright…"

Bandi nodded. "Perfect. I'll try to sway Alberto and Lans—avoid violence if possible. Stability matters most to this city."

Chaotic streets, bloody gang wars—Koda family's profits had plummeted these two months, leaving many elders dissatisfied.

After the meeting, Bandi had Fleming escort Rick out. He stood behind the third-floor window, watching Rick's convoy depart the estate.

Behind him, Gao Li asked, "Are we really going to split Jingang City with him?"

His tone carried concern. Bandi's lips curled into a faint, cold smile. "With him?"

"Does he deserve it?"

He scoffed. "A dirt-poor upstart from Xiang Yalan, thinking he can sit at our table? Does he deserve it?"

"Once he's done with those men, we'll send him to his grave."

With Rick's trust, he sat alone with them in the same room. Eliminating Rick was simple.

No elaborate plan needed—just lure him under some pretext, then kill him.

Though Koda family had whitewashed much of its past, it remained a criminal organization. When needed, they killed—without hesitation.

"This chaos taught me one thing: Jingang City doesn't need so many powerful families. One is enough."

In Bandy's plan, the future Jincheng City would be filled with small gangs, with only his own organization at the pyramid's peak.

No matter who became mayor, no matter who sought to create some miracle, they could not be avoided.

They would seize true control over the city's underworld, and use it to influence the world above ground.

A smile curled at the corner of his mouth—"Only I am supreme"—the good days were coming!

For the past two days, Jincheng City had been raining nonstop; perhaps the seasons were about to shift, as cold air began forming and moving.

In this world without greenhouse effect, winters at both poles arrived early.

Cold air continuously moved southward and northward, eventually forming storm after storm that swept across coastal cities.

Prolonged rainy days were the most uncomfortable weather—air damp, people damp.

Unless absolutely necessary, people avoided leaving home for the streets; whether they carried umbrellas or wore rubber boots, they always ended up soaked and disheveled.

Yet now, outside Jin Da Bank, the long lines of people waiting to withdraw money had not shrunk—they had grown larger.

They shuffled slowly forward in the endless queue, inch by inch.

Inside the bank, Mr. Jiaoba's eyes were bloodshot, streaked with red veins—he hadn't slept properly in two days.

Most of the time he was too exhausted to stay awake, dozed off for a moment, then returned to work.

He wearily set down the phone in his hand—another bank had refused his loan request. He tugged desperately at his hair—he was finished!

He had done all he could. Perhaps he should have listened to Lans earlier, moved some funds out, and filed for bankruptcy.

But how could he accept it?

After all, this was his life's work!

As he suffered in agony, someone knocked on the door. He quickly straightened his clothes and posture, trying to appear less broken.

"Come in."

The door opened. The supervisor stood at the threshold, face tense with anxiety. "Mr. Jiaoba, we're nearly out of cash. If we don't get more soon, we won't make it until closing today."

The staff at Jin Da Bank all knew well—the bank truly had no money left. Otherwise, Mr. Jiaoba wouldn't have been scraping together pennies to pay them.

In the past, when the bank had plenty of cash, he only needed to push a cart to the vault once and retrieve vast sums.

But back then, no one rushed to withdraw—everyone deposited money.

Now, things were different.

They suspected the vault had long been empty—even devoid of other valuables—because an employee had seen Mr. Jiaoba struggling to push a cart into the back garage two days ago.

Then came the sound of metal clinking. If nothing went wrong, he had taken away the last of the gold.

Soon after, he brought back a new batch of cash—but it hadn't lasted long, and now it was gone again.

How much more could he possibly produce?

No one knew.

Out of respect for Mr. Jiaoba, who had given them work for so long, they still held their posts, standing guard at their final shift.

"I… understand."

"Let me be alone for a while. I'll think of something."

The supervisor sighed softly, closed the door, and left.

Mr. Jiaoba sat motionless in his chair, his mind utterly blank.

Hours passed—or perhaps only minutes—when a sudden thunderclap jolted him from his numb stupor. Faint shouts reached his ears, and he rose, walking to the window.

Down below, depositors had stopped queuing. Security guards struggled to maintain order, but more and more depositors were surging toward the bank. He realized—the money was gone.

Indeed, the supervisor burst in, face pale with panic. "Mr. Jiaoba, all the money has been withdrawn. We can't pay out any more."

He stared at the supervisor for a long moment, then raised his hand. "Tell everyone to protect their safety."

He paused. "I'll come down shortly."

The supervisor returned outside. Perhaps Mr. Jiaoba's impending appearance quieted the crowd for a moment.

Seven or eight minutes later, amid murmurs, Mr. Jiaoba appeared before the crowd.

He stepped outside. The sky grew darker, the rain fiercer!

He was quickly soaked through by the drumming downpour.

"I… am sorry to you all!"