Chapter 1030: Artworks and Residual Heat

"You can find Edward for this matter. He will tell you what to do."

Senator Cleveland stopped beside a collection piece, looking at it. Lance also turned to look at it.

This was a large-scale collection piece. It looked like half a wall stood there, with some carvings and paintings on it. In front of it were models of primitive people, looking somewhat like mannequins.

But to say they were mannequins was clearly not entirely correct, because they looked... somewhat real.

Viewing this exhibit from outside the red line, it looked like a scene from the daily life of an ordinary tribe.

The people of the tribe were engaged in their work, and a small number of warriors were guarding the chief.

Lance noticed the crown the chief wore, which was filled with various feathers, and the "throne" beneath his buttocks, which was pieced together from the bones of an unknown number of animals.

The chief's elbow rested on one of the armrests, his body leaning slightly to one side. Because this bone throne wasn't very high, one could see that his knees weren't level with his pelvis, as they would be when sitting on an ordinary chair, but were slightly raised, like a half-crouch, ready to suddenly stand up at any moment, full of deterrence and aggression.

Lance observed the artwork seriously, then looked at Senator Cleveland.

Senator Cleveland seemed to notice Lance's gaze. He turned to Lance. "This is a great piece of art. Its name is 'Power'."

He said, lowering his head to the ground at his feet. Only then did Lance notice a sign, like an explanatory plaque, on which there was a photo. The content in the photo was exactly the same as the exhibit.

Senator Cleveland continued, "They took a photo of him, then killed him, and stripped him and the skin of the people around him, turning them into what you see now."

"It's just because an adventurer who took their photo..." Senator Cleveland pursed his lips, shook his head, and then looked at Lance. "...That adventurer said that if he only took the bone throne back, people wouldn't be able to imagine its power, so he had to take the chief back as well."

"Then the adventurer and his companions killed the chief and over a thousand people in his tribe, stripped their skins, and made them into this artwork."

"This artwork caused a huge sensation once it was exhibited, over a hundred years ago."

"Many people took trains, and even ships, from other countries to the Federation just to see it and feel that 'kingly aura'."

"What do you think?"

"Can you feel the kingly aura it brings?"

Lance walked two steps closer. Only now could he clearly discern that the outer layer, which he had felt was very real, was actually well-tanned and well-maintained human skin. It must have been stuffed with many things inside.

From the fine details, one could see that the people here were trying their best to maintain its current state, but some parts were beginning to deteriorate due to time. It was uncertain whether this piece of art could continue to be preserved like its similar products—hats, boots, purses, and trousers made of the skin of primitive natives.

Lance shook his head. "The moment it was moved in here, it lost its kingly aura."

"Perhaps the original adventurer wanted to show the civilized society the... kingly aura of the primitive society, but now, it is actually a trophy for the civilized society to show civilized people 'how civilization eats people'." This is not art. This is a trophy."

"A trophy to show the conquest of the advanced over the backward, the civilized over the barbaric, and guns and cannons over cold weapons!"

Senator Cleveland was a little surprised. He hadn't expected Lance to see it so clearly. He had actually asked many people how they felt after seeing this.

Some thought it was great. They could find countless moving points in this artwork, which made them feel that this was the most wonderful thing in the world.

Others thought this artwork was terrible, because it was made of real human skin, which gave them an instinctive disgust.

The most exaggerated case was a person who, after viewing this artwork and learning that it was made of real materials, actually started vomiting on the spot!

Senator Cleveland had guessed many possible reactions from Lance. For example, he might flatter him, echoing some pleasant words to elevate his own statements.

Or he might say something critical, to prove that he was still a normal human being.

But he hadn't expected Lance to speak from such a higher perspective. He had never even imagined such a possibility.

He glanced at his chief aide, then said with a smile, "This is the interesting part of art. Everyone who sees it has their own thoughts and opinions."

"You said it very well, Lance. You showed me another side of you."

"In fact, from our perspective, whether it is having Edward operate that stock, or the war in Rapa, we are essentially doing the same thing as our ancestors."

"Conquest!"

He said, walking forward again. "I have high hopes for you. You have a quality that others don't: you can very calmly see through the false essence of this world, and also see its truest side."

"I will stop worrying about the Rapa matter. I leave it entirely to you to handle. You don't always need to report to me like this."

"You just need to tell me how it's going before the final moment arrives."

"I don't care about the matters of Diego and the Ravila family, but I wonder, since we have conquered a civilization, shouldn't we leave something for this art museum?"

Until he left, Lance was pondering the things Senator Cleveland had said.

He actually knew.

He knew how perverted the federal people, especially the federal upper class, were.

The revelations about the Red Heels Nightclub only uncovered the most shallow layer of the federal upper class's perversion. Sex, abuse, torture—these crimes, which people might already consider very serious, were just a corner of the filthiest side of the upper class, a very small fragment.

Because compared to the slaughter of civilization, the slaughter of a race, this kind of individual crime had, on the contrary, become their most trivial offense.

Lance had heard a very interesting saying before—

A true person of the upper class will never be brought to justice for a crime.

Because at their level, at their height, the law no longer works on them.

The only ones who can truly deal with them are themselves.

From the current perspective, this saying might still be too conservative.

"What are you thinking?" Tom asked while driving.

He was not yet qualified to have a private driver. It wasn't that he couldn't afford to hire one, but as the Senator's aide, he needed to maintain a certain level of low profile.

It was like those famous opera singers. Although they were also very rich and had a certain social status, they would all maintain a low-key lifestyle.

They rarely showed their true selves in front of ordinary people. They didn't want people to realize that their beautiful lives were built upon the ordinary people. Officials should also be like this.

Lance snapped out of his thoughts and looked at the bustling city under the blue sky and white clouds. "Nothing. I'm just thinking about what to do next, and whether our President Diego will follow our plan and complete his final curtain call performance."

Tom couldn't help but chuckle heartily. "What you said is too artistic, like an artist!"

Lance also laughed. "After all, we just came out of an art museum. We should at least feel some artistic influence, right?"

Tom laughed and chatted with Lance about some recent events in New Golden City, and then drove him to Edward's place.

Edward's company was in the most prosperous part of Deterland, occupying a massive building with over thirty floors. They rented out a part of the ground floor to others, but starting from the twentieth floor, it was all the company's own office space.

In the surprised eyes of the beautiful elevator girl, he was brought to a separate elevator. The door frame of the elevator seemed to be gold-plated.

"Mr. President is waiting for you!" As the elevator doors slowly opened, she proactively entered the elevator, and then invited Lance to come in as well.

Under her operation—actually, there was nothing to operate, because there were only two buttons on the elevator.

The first floor, and the top floor button. Perhaps this was the attitude of the federal capitalists, those financial magnates.

Even for an elevator button, they were rich enough not to want to press it themselves.

After about a minute, the elevator slowly stopped. The sense of weightlessness was almost imperceptible.

She opened the elevator door, and then stood outside the door. "Mr. President is at the end of the corridor..." she said, and then bowed, exposing her ambitious career line.

Lance said thank you, and then walked towards the door. It was a corridor of about ten or so meters. There were no decorations on either side, but everything looked distinguished.

The floor was paved with pure white and pure black marble, intertwined. Gold was inlaid between the bricks, making it look like a giant chessboard.

The walls on both sides were also pure white, with no decorations. The ceiling was the same, but there were some golden decorations, making it look exceptionally luxurious.

When he walked to the door, the office door slowly opened. President Edward was standing in front of a huge floor-to-ceiling window, with a cigar dangling from his mouth.

When he turned his head and saw Lance, he laughed heartily and walked over, a cigar in his hand.

Lance had expected him to come and shake hands, but unexpectedly, President Edward adopted a posture of embracing him after getting close. This caught him a little off guard, but he still hugged the other person.

"Lance, Lance, Lance!"

He released Lance and waved his hand. The two young girls who had opened the door just now left the room through another door after bowing.

"Come, sit here."

In one corner of the room, there was a sofa group. Next to it was an equally huge floor-to-ceiling window, which allowed one to overlook a small part of the city.

If it weren't for the fact that there were too many high-rise buildings around, one might be able to see more.

"I'll build an even taller building sooner or later!" he pursed his lips, seemingly dissatisfied that the building next door slightly blocked his view.

"Let's not talk about that. Come, sit."

"The Senator called me. I know why you came."

"Actually, you are being too cautious. The turmoil is not a terrible thing for us. On the contrary, it makes many things unverifiable."

"For example... we have acquired a few more high-yield mines. Our income will increase next year, and along with that..."

He raised the hand holding the cigar. "We're going to distribute dividends!"

Federal companies, according to their own internal regulations, distribute dividends to all shareholders every cycle.

A company's dividend determines its influence. In fact, some investors in the circulation market have already been inquiring about dividends recently.

Seeing that Lance did not look surprised, President Edward was slightly taken aback, but quickly masked his surprise.

"According to some of the plans we gave before, I have made a dividend plan."

It could be seen that he was already very well prepared. The documents were on the coffee table. He casually picked them up and handed them to Lance, and signaled for Lance to have a look. "You can ask me if there's anything you don't understand. I'll explain it to you."

Lance said "thank you," and then began to look through the document.

The content of the document was actually not complicated. According to the financial reports that Hope Mining had promised and shown to the public, their profit last year should be close to 20 million.

Even among publicly listed companies, this was not a low figure; it was an average.

Logically speaking, they should distribute 6 million to the 30% of freely circulating shareholders, but the company had decided to continuously invest in more mine resources this year.

So they decided to reduce the dividend standard, and only distribute 2 million, with the remaining money being used to purchase new resources. They also estimated that the company's profit this year would exceed 35 million.

Lance put the document on the table after reading some of the not-so-important information. He looked at President Edward's "come and ask me" expression, thought for a moment, and asked, "So next, we need to acquire more mineral resources?"

An affirmative sentence. Although President Edward had some guesses that Lance had understood his plan, he was still surprised by Lance's intelligence.

He nodded and replied, "Yes. Huge dividends and profit potential, and also the company's future development potential."

"As long as this 2 million is distributed, the company's stock market value will surge again."

"And I hope you can do one thing."

Lance asked, "What?"

"Have the representative of Hope Mining, and their president, what was his name?"

"Diego."

"Yes, Diego. Sign a national asset transfer agreement with Diego, to have him contribute his last bit of heat..."