Empire of Shadows

From Lance and Mayor Williams's perspective, the changes on the square were immediately visible.

"There's another group."

Lance saw the people in police uniforms also attacking the demonstrators in the same way.

Mayor Williams picked up his glass and took a sip.

"Crude tricks!"

Lance walked to the desk and picked up the phone.

"Some rats have mixed into our game, be careful to identify them."

He put down the phone, returned to the window, and watched the chaos unfolding in the square.

The two groups were small in number, but they were able to chase and drive away a large crowd.

They should have been a unified force, but they failed to exert the power of a whole.

At this moment, the principle that people without a leader are like a heap of loose sand was vividly demonstrated!

Not only Lance and Mayor Williams were observing the events in the square, but many people were also watching from behind the windows of the City Hall building.

From a "historical" perspective, these Slade people who had just arrived in the Federation were gradually clenching their fists.

They would be broken down into many groups, and each group would have its own political agenda.

They would fall into a strange circle—

Each group would want to gain recognition from the mainstream Federation, and to do so, they would have to propose some theories and footholds that were beneficial to the Federation society, and suppress the other groups as much as possible.

Only by gaining the recognition of the mainstream Federation society could they obtain various forms of assistance from the Federation society.

Financial, political, or otherwise.

The more they relied on these grants, the more they would deviate from their original ideas.

Subsequently, one idealistic group after another would become interest groups, becoming a paradise for speculators.

In order to gain more benefits and more success, they would have to work harder to sell out the Slade refugees behind them.

They would fall into a long-term internal struggle, unable to pose a threat to the rulers here.

Couldn't the Slade people see this clearly?

No, they could see it clearly, but they couldn't change it.

In fact, they themselves were a part of the whole plan.

To become superior, to live a wealthy and extravagant life, one must hold chips.

And the people are the best chips.

They would be tamed by multiple forces to become the most docile lambs.

"Goldenport City's development requires a large population.

If we can take in all these people, it will be very beneficial to subsequent development."

"Urban expansion takes several years.

This cheap labor is the best consumable.

I think we can relax the refugee entry system."

"Aren't they saying you're too conservative?"

"Then you can try to relax the policy as if you were acting 'out of spite'."

The people below were already fighting in a chaotic mess, but Lance and Mayor Williams were discussing the city's subsequent development and some policy changes targeting Slade refugees.

Mayor Williams quite agreed, "But it won't be easy to get them to settle here completely."

Lance chuckled twice, "This is the Federation, full of freedom and all things beautiful.

They will want to live here."

"Just like us."

Who could refuse to live in such a prosperous and developed country and city?

The metropolis has an unparalleled attraction for the poor.

Many people sell all their assets in the countryside to live in the metropolis.

This is their ultimate dream.

The same is true for the refugees.

The harder and more painful their lives are, the more they yearn to be a part of this place.

Look at those early immigrants!

For example, Enio's father, even though his life was a mess, he still tried his best to gain a foothold in this city, wanting to obtain the most basic decency!

In order to do this, they can pay whatever they can!

Just like Karl, who is charging into the crowd at this moment, he also wants to pursue a happy life, and wants to obtain the qualifications to live a decent life in the Federation.

So even if what he is doing now is something he had never thought of before, and there is still some resistance in his heart, he will grit his teeth and do it.

He was panting, each breath exhaling a puff of white mist.

The handle of the knife in his hand was a little frozen, but his body was burning hot.

He kicked the guy in front of him hard, then chopped him with a knife, telling him to "get out", and then searched for the next target.

He didn't feel much guilt.

He didn't mean to kill anyone.

He just wanted to drive these people away, making them look like they had serious external injuries.

At this moment, he felt his body was full of power.

The crowd, which was ten times, dozens, or even hundreds of times larger than his group, was being driven around by them.

At this moment, he was looking at everything that was happening here from another perspective.

Weak!

Because of weakness, they are bullied, and all this happens, just like him in the past.

But now, he is no longer weak.

He has mastered the power.

He doesn't want to be a weak person in the future either.

He wants to make himself strong, so he won't be easily bullied anymore.

Just as he raised the weapon in his hand, he froze.

Bonnie appeared in front of him, supporting a woman.

The two men's eyes met in the air, sticking together, but not romantically.

They looked at each other.

At this moment, this minute, this second, time seemed to be playing a joke on him, freezing at this moment!

He thought of the times when they were little kids staring at each other.

The children of poor families huddled together for warmth.

From a young age, they knew that as long as everyone stayed together, they wouldn't be bullied.

Bonnie was the most thoughtful person in this group.

Many people of the same age listened to him.

He had his own opinions and ideas, uniting everyone and preventing them from being bullied.

Many people admired him.

After all, for poor children who had been bullied since childhood, their fathers might not protect them, but Bonnie could.

From that time on, their small group regarded Bonnie as the boss.

They were addicted to the grand ideals that Bonnie spoke of, unable to extricate themselves.

It was not until now that Karl realized that he didn't really want to be a great person.

He just wanted to be a superior person, a person who was respected.

As if traversing time, the young self looked at Bonnie with admiring eyes, and the current self looked at Bonnie with more rational eyes.

He was overlapping with his past self, replacing his past self!

He didn't know who bumped into him from behind, causing him to stagger.

It was this stagger that restored his time.

He glanced at Bonnie again.

He turned and left in another direction.

Although they had embarked on different paths, they were at least once friends.

After all, they had been together for too long, longer than his relatives had been with him.

This was also a kind of bond.

He didn't want to make trouble for Bonnie, but Bonnie took the initiative to make trouble for him.

He told the woman to go to a safe place, then ran over and chased him, "You're crazy!"

"Why are you doing this!"

He grabbed Karl's arm, his eyes red!

Karl didn't want to talk to him, broke free from his entanglement, and was grabbed again after taking two steps.

Someone looked over at him.

As the "Boss" of this group, he was in trouble.

His subordinates were all asking with their eyes whether he needed help.

These people also knew Bonnie.

Some of them used to be in their current "company", when Bonnie was the Boss.

"Don't make it difficult for me!"

Karl felt a little uncomfortable being stared at by those eyes.

He pried open Bonnie's hand and pushed him away, "This is the last time, don't make trouble for yourself!"

After speaking, he turned and strode towards the nearest few people.

But Bonnie still chased after him.

He reached out to grab Karl, Karl was finally provoked, he turned around and punched Bonnie, watching the blood dripping from Bonnie's head, he froze for a moment, his eyelids blinked uncontrollably, then he turned and left.

He didn't want to go back to that oppressive life where he had to be careful, bending over and lowering his head, guessing other people's emotions.

In this life, he had bowed for too long, and he wanted to straighten up and stretch his body.

Whoever helps him is his friend.

Whoever prevents him from straightening up, pressing his head down and making him continue to bow, is his enemy.

No matter who that person is, whether he knows them or not, or even... Bonny!

He had been living a fulfilling and happy life recently.

Countless riches filled his heart, which he didn't even know was somewhat empty, and he gained happiness and a sense of accomplishment that he had never experienced before.

Friends?

Brothers?

No, he doesn't need them!

All he needs is to keep moving forward!

Bonny held his wounded head, watching Carl walk away. He finally realized that it wasn't just that he and Carl had different ideas; they were on two completely opposite paths!

Perhaps the conflict with Bonny had distracted Carl, because he was tugged several times before he came back to his senses.

"What's wrong?"

His subordinate said, "It's time."

He raised his wrist and looked at the gold watch he bought from an antique shop for three hundred and fifty dollars. It was indeed the agreed time.

With a wave of his hand, he and some key members began to retreat.

The original script called for a small number of people to be caught. Even though this was a "performance," it couldn't be too fake.

It was impossible for everyone to escape; some would definitely escape, but some would definitely be caught.

After Carl and the key members left, some people remained to drive away the refugees who were gathering. They were the ones who would be caught later, and their identities would be exposed in front of many people!

This was very important!

About a minute after Carl and his group retreated, the wailing sirens of police cars suddenly echoed throughout the square.

A large number of police cars and officers poured out from the alleys in all directions, instantly surrounding the square.

According to federal police regulations, when a serious crime occurs, the siren must be sounded. Its purpose is not to remind the criminals that "the police are coming," but to make the criminals aware that the police are coming, thereby interrupting the crime and reducing the losses and casualties to the victims.

Logically, they should have sounded the siren from a distance, and these fake police officers should have been able to hear it early on.

But the moment the siren sounded, the police appeared. This was obviously not right; they were too fast!

Before they could react, the police officers spread out and raised the weapons in their hands, and their demands for everyone to lay down their weapons and surrender echoed from the loudspeakers.

The atmosphere in the square was a bit... hard to describe. Twenty or thirty young people holding weapons dropped them and obediently knelt on the ground.

But in the distance, another group of fake police officers didn't know what to do.

They were playing the role of fake police officers, not real police officers.

One fake police officer tried to deceive the police officers. He took a few steps towards the police officers with a steel pipe in his hand, and the officer directly facing him pulled the trigger.

The gunshot caused even more piercing screams to erupt in the square, but after the screams, there was silence.

Many frightened fake police officers dropped their weapons and knelt on the ground.

After the last riot, they knew that the federal police were really willing to shoot!

Lans, who was watching this scene from the mayor's office, shook his head slightly and returned to the sofa to sit down.

Mayor Williams still had some desire to keep watching. He turned to look at Lans, "Why aren't you watching anymore?"

Lans picked up his wine glass and took a sip, "The script was written long ago. It's just a qualified performance; there are no surprises."

Outside the window, the fake police officers were being handcuffed. They were arranged to stand together, and suddenly someone in the crowd of participants exclaimed, "Isn't that... the kid from the [family name]?"

"Oh my god, I've seen that person! He's the fourth one from the left. He lives in the square next to us!"

As more and more people were recognized, the performance finally came to an end.

The Slavs who were recognized on the spot lowered their heads in shame. Some people on the fake police side were also exposed, after all, they were all Slavs, and someone would always recognize them.

Bonny, who originally wanted to accuse the rioters not wearing police uniforms of being instigated by the Federals, unexpectedly chose to remain silent after seeing a few people on the fake police side.

He saw some familiar faces among those people, some familiar faces who had entered and exited Hope's house.

He wasn't a fool; he knew what was happening and what it meant.

His face was very ugly. He sat by the ambulance, receiving on-site stitches from the doctor. He didn't even notice that he had completed the stitches without anesthesia.

Because the pain in his heart was obviously more painful than the wound on his head.

Chief Blue immediately launched an investigation. Carl's men confessed very smoothly that Hope had hired them to do this.

Although Hope was already dead, they said that Hope had found them some time ago, hired them to do this, and paid a deposit of twenty thousand dollars.

Originally, they didn't plan to continue fulfilling this job after Hope's death, but soon Hope's assistant contacted them, hoping they would continue and not stop.

For the sake of the money, they decided to act according to plan.

The interrogation of the fake police officers also went smoothly. Many people confessed that they were also employed by Hope, and their purpose was to play the role of federal police officers and create opposition and hatred...

The news quickly caused an uproar in Goldenport City, and even the Secretary of State and the Deputy Governor called to ask what was going on.

Mayor Williams easily told the story arranged in the script. He also had to thank Mr. Charles and his people, who used the same trick to make the performance more realistic.

After listening to the whole story, the Deputy Governor asked him to come to Menton as soon as possible.

If they didn't deal with it, who knew how much trouble they would cause.

The only thing worth celebrating was that this incident was an internal problem of the Slavs, not between the Federation and the Slavs.

Of course, as the Deputy Governor, he could definitely guess something, but as long as there was no evidence, they couldn't admit it.

Mr. Fitz also took the opportunity to stand up. He widely publicized the deceased Hope and the people around him who created this tragedy.

They tried to create terror and opposition to manipulate everyone to attack the city hall for their own benefit.

In his description, Hope became an ugly clown, and everything he did was only for wealth, status, and power.

Fitz had some real and fake evidence in his hands, such as Hope's account at Goldenport Bank and the huge deposit in it.

For example, Hope's villa in the Bay Area was not bought by him, but was given to him by someone, by the Federals.

He didn't really want to seek benefits for the Slavic refugees; he was using everyone to do business!

This evidence, along with the newly erupted "truth," instantly angered the people. These lower-level people who lacked the ability to think and distinguish were too easy to manipulate!

These people went from being incredibly supportive of Hope to now despising him.

Even though he was dead, people would still despise him, and even his tombstone.

The public opinion guidance was very successful, and Fitz also gained great prestige, but what he may not know is that no one will let him dominate.

After the matter ended, on the second day of the new year, Mayor Williams dealt with the urgent work at hand and went to Menton with Lans.

In the luxurious carriage of the train, Mayor Williams was in a good mood.

"Fitz is doing a great job. He has already gained a lot of support from the refugees."

Lans nodded while giving him some advice, "We can't let Fitz become the next Hope. We have to find him some opponents with similar strength, otherwise he may get rid of our control."

Mayor Williams smiled, "It has already been arranged..."