Chapter 56

One thousand five hundred dollars is a lot of money.

For people of this era.

When Lans returned after stepping away for a moment and placed a brown paper bag on the table, Kent’s face broke into an unrestrained smile.

He rubbed his hands together, reaching for the bag with a sleazy gesture, but Lans suddenly pressed his hand down on it and stared at him.

He looked confused, then angry, but quickly read something in Lans’s eyes: “Make them stand up.”

Kent spoke, and one of his thugs kicked Enio in the shoulder, sending him sprawling forward, though he quickly rose with help from the others.

They walked silently to stand behind Lans, and Lans released his grip on the bag.

“You’re a man of principle, Lans—I’m sure we’ll become good friends!” He laughed heartily; anyone who gave him fifteen hundred dollars was welcome as a friend.

After picking up the bag, he didn’t look inside immediately. Instead, he opened the flap and inhaled deeply through his nose, then sighed in ecstasy: “The smell of money!”

After savoring it for several seconds, he flipped the bag upside down and poured all the cash onto the table.

All were ten-dollar bills, ten bills per roll, bound with rubber bands—fifteen rolls total.

He hugged them with both arms to keep them from falling, looking utterly ridiculous!

He randomly unrolled one, counted it, and nodded in satisfaction. After putting the money back, he glanced around, then fixed his gaze on Lans, his expression turning dismissive, even arrogant: “So… you can all get the hell out. Next time you do something wrong, don’t get caught. This fifteen hundred? Consider it a lesson for your friends.”

Lans stood with a faint smile, straightening his clothes: “I hope you sleep well, Kent.”

Kent didn’t care about the threat hidden in his words: “I sleep like a log. Drop and out.”

Lans nodded without comment, gave him one last look, and left with Enio and the others.

Watching them go, Kent wiped the smile from his face: “Pack up. We’re moving. This place is hot.”

His trusted thug thought it unnecessary: “The business here is good, boss.”

Kent picked his nose, then handed the bag to his accountant: “Business is good, but problems have arisen. We can’t stay.”

“I’m not afraid of trouble—but that doesn’t mean I like it.”

“We’ve stayed here long enough. Time to move. Tonight.”

He smeared the booger onto his thug’s shirt and stared at him: “Leave now. Any problem?”

The thug shook his head: “You’re the boss.”

He wasn’t afraid of Lans, nor of Lans reporting him to the Koda family.

The local precinct had been fully compromised—he’d met with both the precinct captain and his assistant last month.

Several patrol officers were on his payroll. For a few dozen dollars a month, they became blind and deaf—and even called him ahead when trouble loomed.

Every month, a modest but substantial sum of cash arrived, and they turned a blind eye.

He’d dealt with the Koda family before: just pay up, apologize. His brother was a senior officer in the Camil Gang and had connections higher up. This wasn’t easy—but it wasn’t impossible.

What truly troubled him was that solving this would cost him a lot of money and favors.

Worse—his brother would kill him.

With Kent’s order, everyone began packing. They had a truck to carry everything.

Mainly gambling tables and equipment—everything else was cheap and easily replaceable.

For people who moved often, they had a full system in place.

On the other side, as soon as Enio stepped onto the street after leaving the casino, he muttered an apology.

Lans turned, grabbed the back of Enio’s neck with his palm, pressed his forehead to Enio’s, his expression deadly serious: “Don’t apologize to me, Enio.”

The others were startled—they truly were. When Lans pulled out fifteen hundred dollars, they knew they’d messed up badly.

None of them knew what to say. Fear was slowly devouring them from within.

Enio forced himself to stand tall, gritting his teeth: “I’ll pay you back, Lans.”

“How?” Lans gripped Enio’s head and rubbed hard. “Three dollars a month? For decades?”

“That’s a funny joke. You made me laugh!”

He let go, then turned to the others: “I told Aierwen and Yisen before—if someone slaps you, and you don’t smash back, next time they’ll step on your face… or shit on your head.”

“They’ll know you’re a coward. No matter what you do, you won’t fight back.”

“If you don’t want that fate, remember: blood for blood, tooth for tooth!”

“Shame is washed only in blood. Hatred is quelled only by destruction. What you’re doing now—standing here trembling like a quail, apologizing to me—isn’t what you should be doing.”

“What you must do is take back that fifteen hundred—plus interest!”

“They broke your arms, turned you into this mess—so you repay them double.”

He exhaled slowly: “Kent and his crew will move soon—maybe even in the next two days. Watch them. Find out where they’re going, where they sleep, where they rest.”

“Can you do it?”

Enio’s face hardened with ruthlessness: “I swear I can.”

Lans slapped his cheek, then handed him two hundred dollars: “See a doctor, change your clothes, and keep your eyes on these bastards.”

“Anyone know how to ride a bike?”

A young man raised his hand: “I do, Lans.”

▲TtkΛn▲￠o

Lans pointed at him: “Good. Get a bike nearby. If they drive off, follow—but don’t get spotted.”

“Guys, I don’t care what you think—whether you still want revenge or not.”

“But here, this isn’t over.”

“No one hits you, takes my money, and walks away to live easy. No one.”

“Call me the moment you find anything.”

After giving a few final instructions, Lans drove off.

Is fifteen hundred dollars a lot?

Yes, it is—but earning it back won’t take long.

Some say the most profitable businesses in the world are written in the criminal code—and they’re not wrong.

Back at the company, Aierwen rushed over immediately: “I heard Mo Lisi came. Did something happen?”

Lans briefly explained. Aierwen ’s face darkened with rage.

He’d grown more confident lately—partly from money, partly because their group had become cohesive, united as one.

So even when trouble struck, they held one belief: Lans will avenge us.

With that confidence, they no longer feared problems—they faced them head-on.

“What are you planning?” he asked.

Lans sat behind his desk—he had his own office. Since it was a company, it had to look like one.

He lit a cigarette, exhaled twice, then said: “That money wasn’t free. He’ll pay a heavy price.”

Aierwen clenched his lips: “What do you need us to do?”

“Focus on your own tasks. I’ll notify you when action starts.”

In the afternoon, Yisen returned from outside, his face glowing with excitement: “Lans, guess who I saw?”

Lans asked absently: “Who?”

“Those kids who beat us up at the harbor—I saw them!”

It was the hottest part of the day, so everyone out on “business” had returned. When they heard Yisen had found the kids who’d pounded them, they couldn’t sit still.

Lans, already boiling with rage, felt a destructive urge rise—Kent the bastard could wait two more days. Right now, he’d collect interest from those kids.

He had Meiluo pull all the baseball bats from the warehouse and pack them into a large travel bag.

The others rode in the car—he drove. And he realized: the company needed more people who could drive.