Chapter 934: Arrangements and Bounty Hunter 66620

The name Lans Family was mentioned for the first time in such a solemn setting by Senator Cleveland, yet no one found it amusing or thought the Lans Family should not have been brought up.

The underworld is becoming politicized—that’s what this country is currently experiencing; behind the Federation’s five great families lie shadows of Congress, because for powerful figures, the underworld is simply too convenient a “trash bin.”

A veteran assassinating the President versus a gangster assassinating the President—the latter would have a far more explosive impact on society.

After all, gangsters are evil; evil men do evil things—that’s common sense.

“Lans White—I know this man.”

The President nodded; he indeed knew Lans. “But can he really do what you say?”

Senator Cleveland expressed his view: “I’ve worked with Lans many times. He’s a very intelligent young man—mature beyond his years.”

“He possesses a level of maturity and rationality his peers lack. He knows how to get things done in the most elegant way, and he’s also decisive enough.”

“We’re only trying this once—consider giving him a shot.”

He paused. “Lans has a good relationship with that ambassador from Lapa, and the ambassador is willing to cooperate with our work. Let them try—it might yield unexpected results.”

After a moment’s thought, the others agreed. The President then asked where Lapa was, and only after confirming its location did he give his approval.

After all, the President doesn’t need to know geography—good grades in geography won’t make you President.

The matter was settled. Later, other discussions arose: “Lately, the Federation’s financial system has been debating—they plan to aggressively raise interest rates, an unprecedented hike!”

All the gentlemen in the room grew attentive again; this was another critically important topic.

The Federation government and major conglomerates are in frequent, active contact. The Federation alone cannot accomplish this—it must rely on the power of its financial conglomerates. They intend to use this war to harvest the world’s wealth.

Later that evening, Senator Cleveland called Lans.

“Is now a good time to talk?” Senator Cleveland asked, lighting a cigarette.

He wore glasses, squinting slightly as he looked down at documents on his desk.

One hand held the cigarette, the other the receiver—that was his most common state these days. Too many tasks piled up; he simply didn’t have time to handle them one by one.

He meant to ask Lans whether he could speak freely—and whether those around him were far enough away.

Some people have exceptionally sharp hearing—even whispers can be caught. Senator Cleveland had encountered such people.

Then there are lip-reading experts—standing far off with binoculars, they can reconstruct every word spoken by their target.

After signaling everyone in the room to leave, Lans said, “Now it’s fine.”

“You have one week. Handle this yourself—carefully.”

Lans grunted in agreement, then cautiously raised his own question: “I’ve noticed there’s been no change at the base.”

“Don’t concern yourself with him. Act as if you know nothing. Don’t tell anyone else. This is top secret. Understood?”

Knowing Dantela is coming to attack and doing nothing about it—this would be an absolute scandal if exposed, at any time, in any era.

All who know will be brought before a tribunal; some involved may be secretly executed!

Lans understood the gravity of the matter and wouldn’t speak carelessly. But he grasped Senator Cleveland’s meaning: let General Myers take a beating.

The Navy and Army’s power struggle has fully enraged the Army. They need to teach the Navy a lesson—to show them who the Federation’s true “military” really is!

“Besides this, you called for another reason,” Lans said after a silence on the line.

Senator Cleveland had been distracted a moment ago; Lans’s voice pulled him back. “Ah… yes, that’s right.”

“There’s something I need you to do.”

“Go ahead.”

Senator Cleveland moved the ashtray closer and tapped ash into it. “You have a good relationship with that ambassador from Lapa, correct?”

Lans chuckled lightly. “So far, yes—quite good.”

More than good?

Lans had openly offered Ambassador Cassia a bribe: he provided the Lapa embassy with a house for free, and then Mr. Cassia rented out part of it—of course, internally. Publicly, he said nothing.

Now, some in New Gold City know: the Lapa embassy has a bar inside, where you can drink freely without breaking the law—because it’s legally permitted.

Not only can they run a bar and sell alcohol—even if one of them committed murder, they could hide inside the embassy to evade judicial procedures.

Each month, Ambassador Cassia earns rent plus a share of profits—totaling twenty to thirty thousand dollars. This allows his family to live comfortably in the Federation.

As a diplomat, an ambassador, now with money, his family’s life has changed completely.

If they didn’t openly say they were from Yalan Lapa, a poor place, you’d see no trace of that poverty or backwardness in them.

Senator Cleveland seemed to read something in Lans’s chuckle; a smile spread across his face. “This requires your cooperation with your friend. We’ll use Lapa as a pilot. You must dismantle their resistance. Do you know what I mean?”

Lans knew perfectly well—it was exactly what he’d pushed this plan for: control!

Why was he so certain this would fall to him, not to some… resistance group?

The reason was simple: for the Federation to smoothly turn Yalan into its territory, it must eliminate the region’s current rulers.

They could bribe them—or kill them outright.

Killing them outright was inappropriate—it would only breed hatred and make rule difficult.

But bribing them wouldn’t work either. The Federation’s politicians didn’t trust these native rulers to relinquish their grip on Yalan.

The few states that already defied the Federation were annoying enough. Adding more would give Congress headaches.

If they couldn’t bribe them or kill them directly, could they support a rebel force instead?

But that wasn’t a good choice either. The rebel force, once empowered, would become a new dragon—young, strong, and aggressively predatory.

These new regimes, installed by coups or force, would be harder to handle than the old corrupt ones. To defeat them would demand greater cost—and risk further souring relations with locals, creating even greater obstacles to Federation rule.

So the best solution: deny Yalan any chance to rise. Prevent anyone from becoming a new ruler. Use non-official forces like Lans to eliminate them.

The Federation’s politicians—at least these ones—still possessed considerable political wisdom and ability. They fought among themselves, battled conglomerates, and eyed the entire world.

Greed, ambition, power—these painted the ugly face of the Federation’s ruling class!

But it was also an era full of opportunity for everyone—if you seized it, you could soar.

Lans didn’t answer immediately. After thoughtful silence, he gave his reply with deliberate caution: “I already have a plan.”

“You already have a plan?” Senator Cleveland’s tone dripped with skepticism—but he immediately connected the dots.

Lans had pushed this plan so hard, pitching his ideas so fervently—perhaps it was all because he wanted something specific.

But Senator Cleveland didn’t dwell on it. He and Lans were still in their honeymoon phase; the stronger Lans became, the more power he had at his disposal.

If one day Lans became a behemoth like one of the Federation’s five great families, he’d be delighted—not worried.

“Good that you have a plan. The congressional hearings will begin by late June or early July. By August at the latest, our plan must be ready. You have roughly three to four months.”

“Prepare yourself. This is an unparalleled opportunity for you.”

“By the way, you did well in handling the Labor Union.”

“Your performance has earned great praise. It means more opportunities ahead. Keep it up—you’ll become a miracle.”

“If you run into trouble, call Tom or me. I’ll resolve anything I can.”

“Also, be careful—they might use extreme methods. These people aren’t clean.”

After a few more brief exchanges, the call ended.

Lans sighed, then shook his head.

Meanwhile, the “bounty hunters” invited by the Labor Union had entered Jincheng City.

They didn’t look like the fierce figures people imagined—they seemed more like travelers, laden with bags and bundles.

This team had a certain reputation even among bounty hunters.

Their target this time was Karl. If they could extract him alive, they’d receive a hundred thousand dollars from the middleman.

They didn’t care who the middleman served, or who paid the money—they only cared whether they could collect it.

(End of Chapter)