Chapter 943: Server 6661

A person must know their place.

When Senator Cleveland said he had another “meeting,” he was telling Ambassador Cassia: you can hang up now.

Ambassador Cassia responded with equal decisiveness: “Understood. I won’t disturb you further.”

“Hmm…”

After hanging up, Senator Cleveland glanced at Tang Mu: “Tell Lans that this ambassador has some friend who controls the La Pa leader’s federal account—have Lans handle it.”

Tang Mu stood up immediately: “Understood.”

Under current federal law, if an account remains inactive for a certain period, it becomes a “dormant account.”

At that point, the funds in the dormant account are transferred to a designated account; if the owner wishes to reclaim them, they need only apply to the bank and prove ownership of both the account and the funds.

Simple.

But most people who lose access to these accounts never reclaim the money—mainly because they never apply.

In the federation, over half the money in these anonymous accounts is illicit; otherwise, it wouldn’t be stored there in the first place.

As a result, once these accounts go dormant and the funds are moved, almost no one ever comes back to claim them.

And where does the money end up?

Honestly, a large portion is reclaimed via “appeal requests”—though whether those appeals are genuinely filed by the original account holders or secretly extracted by insiders through technical means is another matter entirely.

This rule was jointly drafted by the Federal Savings Bank, the Federal Banking Commission, and Congress.

Gomes didn’t realize that even if he didn’t mention it, the money would eventually end up in the federal government’s pockets—just distributed among many people, each receiving only a small share.

By providing these account details, he simply lets Cleveland and the others take a slightly larger cut. That’s all.

Senator Cleveland nodded and walked off, saying as he went: “Next time, ask them what they want first—handle unimportant calls yourself.”

This granted him more authority; Tang Mu naturally didn’t refuse.

Soon, Tang Mu called Lans and explained what had happened: “The bank’s money will be handled by specialists—you just need the account details.”

“The senator wants you to check what this… guy wants. It’s not a small sum.”

Lans agreed, though he already had some suspicions.

He quickly called Ambassador Cassia: “I heard you have a friend with some accounts that need handling?”

At those words, Ambassador Cassia’s face twisted into a bitter smile—he had no idea how to answer.

Lans didn’t press him, only waited in silence.

After about ten seconds, a sigh came through the receiver: “I can explain…”

“No, no, Cassia—I’m not calling to hear your explanations. I want to know who needs help.”

Lans’s tone carried absolute finality, leaving no room for negotiation; Cassia could only mutter curses under his breath and give Lans the answer he wanted.

“Gomes. You know him.”

Lans chuckled lightly: “Yes, we know each other. We’re on good terms.”

“Is he in the federation now?”

“I heard he went back to La Pa?”

Ambassador Cassia looked awkward: “He just arrived these past few days.”

“Have him come see me.”

Lans hung up. Cassia stared at the receiver, sighed again, then shook his head.

He quickly dialed Gomes and recounted everything.

As Gomes listened, his mind filled with curses—he was irritated, even violent.

“I understand. I’ll go see him right away.”

Cassia added: “Bring him some gifts. Say something nice—he’s not hard to deal with.”

Gomes was already distracted: “Hmm. I understand.”

This was embarrassing—and Gomes was certain Lans was furious. Anyone would be furious in this situation—even himself!

It’s like someone you know used you to contact your brother-in-law Diego, and now plans to bypass you entirely and reach Diego directly—you’d be furious.

You’d be furious. So what about Lans?

Would he be even angrier?

He’d be angry, yes—but not that angry.

When a person has experienced enough of something, their emotions remain steady when it happens again.

Like when you first acquired a valuable resource—just one plot twist could make you reward yourself.

But the next time you see it, you realize it’s just… ordinary. You look ahead, seeking higher-stakes content to raise the stakes toward your ultimate goal.

A resource might be referenced two or three times before losing all value—it’s been “consumed,” “experienced.”

Lans had encountered many similar situations in his life. He no longer reacted like a naive youth, thinking this was a slight to his face that demanded revenge.

An adult’s time isn’t so simple—it’s not just love, hate, and emotion; there are far more complex things at play.

If Gomes can continuously provide Lans with… value, they remain friends.

If he can’t, then when his value is fully drained, that’s when Lans will say goodbye.

Discussions about the Lans family grew more numerous.

Some said the Lans family was the federation’s least gang-like gang.

They didn’t exploit or oppress ordinary people; instead, they considered the public’s interests—even though they did run criminal businesses, like smuggling alcohol.

But honestly, in the federation at this time, hardly anyone truly viewed bootlegging as a crime!

Especially locals—they didn’t see drinking a glass as wrong. Only recent immigrants to the federation still believed smuggling and trading alcohol was criminal.

Others believed this was just the Lans family’s tactic to whitewash their image—using it to win public favor and appear harmless.

Many supported this view. People are always complex in any era—some simply don’t understand them and oppose every positive claim about them, nothing more.

But regardless, the Lans family was now asserting its influence, spreading from Lika Lai Province to farther regions—even many in Jinzhou had heard of and understood the Lans family’s affairs.

Two days later, Gomes arrived in Jin Gang City with a large collection of local specialties and met Lans in his luxurious office.

“These are some gifts I brought from La Pa. I hope you like them.”

He opened several gift boxes himself—each exquisitely wrapped, filled with colorful gemstones that shimmered under the light.

These had originally been meant for Senator Cleveland—but now he had to offer them to Lans.

Lans glanced at them from afar, unimpressed.

To ordinary people, a single gem might be worth hundreds, thousands, even tens of thousands.

There were many here—possibly worth hundreds of thousands, even millions.

But it was still just a few hundred thousand.

The cheapest copper lion whiskey brought Lans nearly ten yuan net profit per bottle.

The expanding Lawrence Distillery produced roughly fifteen thousand bottles of copper lion whiskey daily—that’s one hundred fifty thousand yuan net profit.

Then came silver lion, gold lion, and other spirits.

Every day, these spirits brought Lans roughly four hundred to five hundred thousand yuan net profit—and his distillery kept expanding, with profits coming from other sources too.

So this amount meant nothing to Lans now.

He gave a slight nod, signaling Gomes to pack it all away.

Gomes didn’t know if Lans had forgiven him—he looked tense. He repacked the gifts and handed them to Merro, who had them taken to an inner room.

Only then did Lans invite him to sit.

“When they told me you planned to bypass me and contact Congress directly, my first reaction wasn’t anger,” Lans said with a faint smile, as his opening line.

Gomes instantly grew tense: “I can explain, Mr. Lans!”

Lans raised his hand to stop him: “No, no need to be nervous, Gomes.”

“Everyone wants to become better. Everyone wants to improve. That’s not wrong!”

“Like my men—if they didn’t aspire to become captains or officers, there’d be something wrong with them.”

“Only soldiers who want to become generals are truly good soldiers. So I understand your actions—you want to improve, to become better than you are now!”

Hearing Lans’s measured words, Gomes exhaled: “I’m so glad you understand!”

Lans smiled: “What… do you want?”

“Your gifts, your sincerity to improve—what do you want from the federation, from us?”

“Money? Status? Power? Or something else?”

Lans acted as if he didn’t care about Gomes’s actions—as if he truly didn’t mind!

Gomes forced a smile: “I only want to serve you and Senator Cleveland better.”

(End of Chapter)