Empire of Shadows

The entire noon, the restaurant was pervaded by a foul smell, and many onlookers gathered around.

The Federation never lacked onlookers, as watching drama was part of human nature.

Seeing others encounter misfortune brought a sense of happiness from within.

Throughout the noon, the restaurant served only three tables, and the customers left severe accusations for the manager because the restaurant's condition had led them to a very unpleasant lunch, and it was highly likely they would never return.

To retain these customers, the manager had no choice but to offer them a free meal, along with a red wine voucher.

They could use it next time.

It must be said, the manager was really good at marketing. Despite these people saying they would definitely not come back, as long as they had the voucher, they would surely return!

If loving to watch drama was a natural trait of the Federation people, so was taking advantage of a situation.

The manager decided to have a good talk with Mr. Anderson. Just after a little past one, he had the store door closed and had two apprentices stand at the door with a hose.

If those people came to defecate, they just needed to wash away the feces without stopping them, let them defecate.

Stopping them would not be possible and might even lead to greater disturbances; it was better to let them get it over with.

Loud knocks, "Bang bang bang," made Mr. Anderson lift his head and glance at the manager standing by the door, who seemed somewhat despondent and wiped his face, "Have a seat anywhere."

This was his resting room, filled with cigarette butts, though he was not a heavy smoker; the past few days' events just made him constantly seek something to alleviate his distress.

The manager walked in, offering Mr. Anderson a cigarette, "We need to have a serious discussion about this debt of yours."

Mr. Anderson looked slightly embarrassed, but the manager didn't give him a chance to respond, "If the restaurant can't continue to operate normally, I'll resign next week."

"Mr. Anderson, I am extremely grateful for the chance you have given me to manage such a high-caliber restaurant. My job is to make it shine even brighter in my hands."

"But now, our ideals, our thoughts, have clashed."

"Due to your personal reasons, the restaurant has failed to operate successfully, and we cannot compromise on this issue, which conflicts with your reason for hiring me and the job I do here."

"I have no reason or necessity to stay, Mr. Anderson, though I've expressed my gratitude, I will continue to be thankful for all the help you have given me."

Mr. Anderson sighed deeply, "I can't come up with that much money right now; it's almost equivalent to our half-year profit."

It had been almost half a year since the manager took over, and they had earned about five thousand yuan, part of which had gone to repaying debts.

The remaining part, as per the manager's request, was invested in various marketing efforts, which started to snowball the restaurant's operations and reputation.

Now, he had less than two thousand yuan on hand; he simply couldn't pay off the debt.

The manager, who was aware of the restaurant's financial situation, softened his voice slightly, "You can mortgage your house to the bank."

"The restaurant is doing well now, if it continues without further issues, the bank will grant you a loan."

"They are more greedy, so if you have the profitability and the ability to repay, they will definitely lend you the money."

"The interest rate on this loan will be much lower; use part of it to repay Mr. Alberto, and with the rest, we can lease the space next door and continue to expand."

Mr. Anderson's house was a standalone house located on the outskirts, over 200 square meters, but because it was slightly far from the city center and was an old house, the price wasn't high.

He had it evaluated last year, and those people believed the house's maximum valuation was twelve thousand yuan; he could get about seven thousand yuan from the bank, which was the maxim...

Of course, if he was willing to spend three hundred yuan to slightly work the situation, he might get eight thousand or eight thousand five hundred yuan.

His father had purchased this house, and after his father's death, he had inherited it.

The house bore the memories of his birth, growth, starting a family, up until now; he was actually not very willing to mortgage it.

Seeing Mr. Anderson with his head down and silent, the manager knew not to pressure him continuously; this old man was somewhat stubborn.

"I'm only giving you a suggestion, Mr. Anderson, but regardless, I'm grateful for everything you've done for me."

"And you must be prepared mentally, the restaurant might eventually fail to operate, and by then, you'll lose more than just a house."

"You'll lose your career, dreams, family, life, everything!"

The manager finished speaking, patted Mr. Anderson on the shoulder, and then left.

He walked outside the restaurant, and since it was closed, no one came by to relieve themselves, which the manager found both annoying and amusing. Admittedly, it was a low and immature tactic,

but undeniably effective!

Who, just when they're ready to eat and their stomach is all set, would see someone defecating on the street right in front of them, smell the stench, and still keep their appetite?

Even if they did keep their appetite, they wouldn't walk over a ground possibly smeared with feces to get their meal.

In fact, the manager had spotted Lance in the morning, mainly because of his car.

The car was still parked across the street now. After sending the apprentice home to rest, he walked alone to the other side of the road.

In the coffee shop next door, he saw Lance reading the newspaper.

The sound of steps alerted Lance, who glanced up, then put down the newspaper and invited the manager to sit, "What would you like to drink?"

Looking back at the menu on the counter, the manager said, "A classic coffee, please."

A classic coffee referred to the type Federation people liked, adding coffee to milk with at least two sugar cubes.

"I'm trying to persuade him to repay the money.", though the two hadn't spoken before, they didn't seem strangers at this moment.

Lance pulled out a pack of cigarettes, took one out, and handed it to the manager, "It seems you haven't succeeded."

The manager sighed, "He might feel it's a blow to his ego, and besides, he doesn't have that much cash on hand."

Lance took a drag of the cigarette, legs crossed, "Our view of 'having money' isn't about whether he has the cash right there, movable or immovable property; both are manifestations of wealth."

"He has the ability to pay, but has been refusing to pay back, and I've heard the restaurant has been doing remarkably well these past few months under your management."

The waiter brought the coffee, and the manager said thanks and took a small sip, "Mr. Anderson's dishes are fantastic, and his apprentices aren't bad either. I just gave people a chance to taste his food, that's all."

That was quite a modest statement, but Lance liked modest people.

"Have you ever thought about changing jobs?"

"I might start a company, and I'll need a manager."

The manager showed some interest, "What kind?"

"Providing consultancy services, handling some troubles, sort of like a lobbying group."

The manager's interest visibly dwindled, "I haven't worked in that industry and I don't have the right connections, I might not be able to help you."

Lance didn't seem regretful or anything, just asked casually, and they both fell silent.

After quite a while, the manager suddenly asked, "It's a few hours until dinner time, are you still planning to have a homeless person defecate at the restaurant entrance to stop our evening business?"

Lance shook his head, "I had that in mind, but from what I see now, it appears Mr. Anderson needs a push, so I decided to try a different approach."

The manager perked up, "What are you planning to do?"

"Rest assured, I won't tell Mr. Anderson, because I want this matter resolved quickly as well."

"If he can make up his mind, I will continue to work here; if he can't, I will leave. So no matter what, at worst, I'm just a spectator, not someone who loses out."

Lance was quite mysterious, "You'll find out soon…"

Unable to get more out of him, the manager didn't stay long as he had to go back and prepare the restaurant for the evening operations.

It was obvious that the recent events had caused some suspicion about the restaurant, and he had to retain these customers while minimizing the negative impact.

Using strategies like free meals, raffles, gift giveaways, or even draws for the chef to cook personally, he had some tricks up his sleeve.

Meanwhile, Lance made a call to Alberto.

As soon as the call connected, he heard his hearty laughter, "I heard, Lance. You had someone defecate outside his restaurant."

"How should I put it?"

"While the method was despicable, the effect was very satisfying, I'm very pleased!"

"What kind of help do you need this time?"

"Mr. Kodi, do you know where I can find a vacuum truck?"