Empire of Shadows

Hearing about the sewage truck, Alberto immediately showed interest, "Are you planning to fill his restaurant with feces?"

"That's indeed a good idea. Who the hell would want to eat in a cesspool?"

Lance denied this possibility, "Although I don't want to disappoint you, if we were to pump feces into the restaurant, we'd be breaking the law."

"A fine, cleaning up that mess, and maybe even needing to make a public apology; these costs might exceed the money he owes you."

After some thought, Alberto agreed with Lance's view. He wanted money and satisfaction, not compensation and apologies.

"So what do you plan to do?"

Lance didn't say directly, "If you're free around 5:30, come here. I believe he'll soon be begging for mercy."

"Okay, I'll come earlier; give me a surprise, Lance!"

"Make this call, he'll get you a sewage truck filled with feces."

Seeing Alberto about to hang up, Lance quickly asked, "Are you interested in shares of the restaurant?"

Alberto was taken aback, "Although the restaurant is profitable, I know nothing about running one, and I'm not really interested."

Since he wasn't interested, Lance didn't say more, though in truth, the restaurant still held great value.

After hanging up, Lance dialed Alberto's number and found a sanitation service company that contracted for a local area.

One of their jobs was to suction feces and urine from public toilets into sewage trucks, then transport it to special facilities for processing.

This kind of work was bearable in cold weather, but in the summer, it was truly exasperating!

Even if you didn't personally touch the sewage truck's hose, just sitting in the cab and making a round would leave you reeking of fecal odor.

As such, sewage trucks mostly worked at midnight.

Lance had a brief interaction, then went to the place where the sewage truck was parked; the driver was standing under the shade of a tree.

Upon seeing Lance, he made no move to shake hands, "You definitely wouldn't want to shake hands with me; scientists say our entire body is teeming with E. coli."

He self-mocked, then asked, "So, sir, what can I do for you?"

Lance looked over the sewage truck, "There's a job tonight. Any damages will be on the company's account; you should trust Mr. Kodi."

The driver didn't deny, "Of course, Mr. Kodi is trustworthy, but what do you need me to do?"

Lance stepped closer and spoke softly about what they needed to do that evening…

At around four in the afternoon, unable to sit still any longer, Alberto shouted loudly, "Is that bastard Fodis back yet?"

"Call him and hurry him up, I need him to go out with me!"

Another ten minutes passed, and Fodis came back drenched in sweat, "This damn hellish weather, it's getting hotter. What do you need me to do, boss?"

Alberto put on his clothes, a very thin casual outfit, characteristic of the peculiarities of the Federation people.

Their outfits seemed to ignore the concept of seasons. It was possible that in summer they would still wear suits outside, but in snowy winters, someone might wear shorts.

Of course, for dignity or trendiness, seasons were trivial to them.

Fodis frowned, "Should I bring a gun?"

"A gun?" Alberto stared at him wide-eyed, "Of course, we're not going to the President's Mansion, why not bring it?"

"You drive. Lance said that there will be a good show for me to watch soon. I'm already looking forward to it!"

Fodis drove Alberto to the café Lance had told him about, and as they entered, they saw Lance sitting by the window, browsing a magazine.

Seeing Alberto come in, Lance stood up to greet him.

He ordered two glasses of fresh orange juice, then sat next to Lance, "So… what are you planning to show me?"

Lance glanced at his watch, "Mr. Anderson's restaurant officially starts business at 5:30, but it won't be busy initially, so I scheduled the show for 5:45."

"Close to six o'clock, when nearby businesses close and people start looking for places to eat, so the timing is perfect. We still have to wait a bit."

Alberto shrugged, "You're the director, you call the shots."

At this point, Lance raised another question, "Mr. Kodi, I've noticed that the Federation's laws have provisions regarding usury."

Alberto nodded slightly after listening, "So?"

"So, strictly speaking, Mr. Alberto, your business is illegal."

Alberto did not deny it. "Yes, so even if we have a contract with Anderson, he could tear it up and not pay us any principal or interest, and aside from causing him some trouble, there's little we can do."

At this time, the Federation Government had legislated against loan sharking but had not yet fully focused on it.

The current tax rates are high, the consumption level is constantly rising, and people do not have enough money.

That is why even banks have started actively offering various credit loans to ordinary people, because they genuinely do not have money.

It seems that the economy is rapidly developing, but fundamentally, this rapid development is built on advanced consumption.

Once consumption starts to downgrade, the entire Federation's economy will be heavily impacted.

Thus, even though the Federation Government is aware of the societal harm caused by loan sharking, to allow the public to have money to spend and not cause trouble for the government, their control over loan sharking is not that strong.

As long as it doesn't result in fatalities or other widely spread malicious events, they do not intervene actively.

On every street, there are several financial companies, and if the Federation Government were truly strict, this would not be possible.

But if you encounter someone willing to take you to court, like Mr. Anderson, Alberto has no good solution.

Some things are just like that; no one cares if you do them, but once you put them on the table, under the spotlight, they can't be ignored.

It concerns the Federation's positive image and judicial fairness, which are the main themes of the Federation's external propaganda.

Lance didn't continue, just kept this information in mind because he saw a profitable opportunity in it.

But now was not the time to discuss this; he still needed some "capital."

During casual conversation, Alberto mentioned the new baseball season starting in October, and he and Fodis discussed it heatedly.

Baseball, as one of the sports promoted by the Federation Government, has been a part of many people's growth.

In this regard, the Federation Government has done fairly well, promoting aggressive sports over dancing or reading, which has been their long-standing approach.

Some say, it's a scheme to prepare people to endure the oppression of capitalism as adults.

Others say, it inspires a spirit of competition and builds confidence.

Undeniably, baseball is currently one of the hottest sports.

The two started discussing from the baseball team's batter this time to the pitcher's wife caught cheating—there was nothing they didn't discuss.

Time swiftly slips past people; before they knew it, it was 5:40 PM.

Lance interrupted their speculation about the championship and plans on how to bet. "Our 'show' is about to start, Mr. Kodi, perhaps you'll want to see it happen firsthand."

Alberto glanced at his watch, ended his discussion with Fodis, downed a glass of chilled orange juice, and asked for another.

"So, can you tell me now what's going to happen?"

The restaurant across the street had already turned on its neon lights, and the restaurant's name along with Mr. Anderson's neon portrait started to glow brightly.

His frying pan was made into a moving light strip that moved up and down, looking as if it were cooking.

The sun hadn't set so fast in the summer; at 5:30 PM, the sky was still bright, although slightly dusky, not so noticeable.

At that moment, a sludge truck slowly drove from a distance, and Alberto spotted it at once.

Lance no longer hid his intentions. "I plan to create a traffic accident. A car will hit the sludge truck, and then the truck will tip over, and the sludge will cover the entire road in front of the restaurant."

"Reporters are also ready, for the lifestyle section, tomorrow's front page."

"The driver is one of our own, and such traffic accidents are not criminal offenses, so no one will be arrested."

"I asked the driver, even if flipped over, they have insurance from the insurance company, and even if the insurance company rejects the claim, the repair cost would be at most fifty dollars."

Alberto and Fodis stared at Lance, initially feeling terrified by his audacity, but also filled with anticipation!

At 5:40 PM, the sludge truck leisurely arrived at the restaurant's intersection. The next second, a truck suddenly burst out of another corner, maintaining a certain speed, and collided with the side of the sludge truck.

The top-heavy sludge truck immediately tipped over, and the seven-tenths full tank of sludge, at the moment it hit the ground, burst out from the improperly sealed tank—covering not just the ground in front of the restaurant but the windows and inside of the front door with splatters of sludge in various colors.

As a woman's scream pierced the air, the whole street burst into commotion!

Besides the woman's scream, Alberto almost thought he heard Mr. Anderson's exclamation of "Fuck!"