Chapter 1080: Provocation

Perez family?

A look of visible shock appeared on Lance's face. He indeed had an irreconcilable conflict with the Perez family, but it shouldn't have erupted at this time.

He connected this to other things that had happened recently, feeling as though an invisible hand was pushing him toward a gang war.

"Thank you, this is very important to me!" Lance shook hands with Lawyer Goghe. "If needed, I will call you again."

"Can I take my brother now?"

Lawyer Goghe nodded. "I've spoken with the officer handling the case. You are free to leave, but it would be best if Mr. Ethan did not leave the New Golden City for a week or two."

"They might require Mr. Ethan to provide supplementary testimony, for instance, if the opposing party changes their plea or their lawyer forces them to give testimony unfavorable to Mr. Ethan. We would need to re-record the statement."

"If anything like that happens, contact me immediately."

Lance nodded, letting go of his hand. "I will."

He then left the police station with Ethan. Interestingly, just as they descended the stairs from the second floor on the left side of the station entrance, the very people who attacked Ethan were coming down from the other side.

The two groups faced each other on the stairs. Ethan remained calm. Boxing had taught him not only how to argue with his fists but also the importance of coolness and rationality.

In boxing, many fighters try to provoke their opponent, making them lose their cool so they can find openings and knock them out.

Ethan had learned to control his emotions, becoming rational and calm after numerous times he had lost control.

Of course, if necessary, he could also unleash all his emotions, holding nothing back, plunging into a state of fury.

The people opposite them clearly saw them too. Their faces registered shock, followed by a look of malice and ruthlessness.

The leader of the group glanced at Lance, but his gaze settled on Ethan's face. He made a slitting motion across his throat.

It was clear these people had just been bailed out by their lawyer.

For minor cases like this, if someone posted bail, the police department was unlikely to hold them, provided they didn't leave the city.

As for the upcoming summary court hearing, they just needed to show up on the trial date to receive their judgment.

Since no severe consequences resulted from the fight, and they had the backing of the Perez family, they would likely only face community service and a fine, with little chance of imprisonment.

Thus, they weren't worried about the fairness and justice of the judiciary!

This was often the most absurd thing: in the Federation, the only people who truly worried about justice falling upon them like a sharp blade were ordinary citizens.

Capitalists, politicians, and these gang members rarely worried about being judged by the fairness and justice of the judiciary.

Some people could not be judged by justice because they themselves defined it.

How could justice judge itself?

Others had endless means to ensure that judgment fell lightly, if at all.

Only ordinary people could neither embody justice and mercy to forgive themselves nor possess the vast resources to evade judgment.

Lance maintained his composure in the face of their provocation, simply watching them leave before he and his men departed the police station.

"I'll arrange for people to follow you for a while to prevent this from happening again," Lance offered protective measures to Ethan once they were in the car.

He meant sending a few reliable men, the kind who wouldn't hesitate to use force.

This was the New Golden City, where the use of firearms was highly sensitive. Therefore, having just three to five men follow Ethan, prepared to shoot if necessary, would be enough. The police and the FBI would quickly arrive at the scene.

They didn't need to eliminate many enemies, only ensure self-defense.

Ethan accepted. He nodded. "Sorry to make you go to the trouble."

Lance smiled and punched his solid arm. "We're brothers!"

The motorcade paused at the police station entrance. Lance thanked Lawyer Goghe, who was waiting by the roadside to bid farewell, and then they drove away.

Meanwhile, inside the Police Chief's office, the Chief watched everything that unfolded below, a look of grim satisfaction on his face.

Just moments ago, his good friend, the FBI Director, had called and told him about the setup.

The entire incident was orchestrated by his friend, and the reason he was told was so he could subtly arrange for the two parties to "accidentally" cross paths at the police station.

The Perez family, apart from their setbacks with Lance, was notoriously arrogant, especially their lower- and mid-level members.

When people heard they were from the Perez family, they usually maintained a respectful distance.

Since people weren't sure if harming a low-ranking member would provoke retaliation from the higher-ups, even those who were provoked often chose silence.

This emboldened the lower ranks to act more aggressively.

Their provocation of Ethan would inevitably lead to retaliation from Lance, thus fulfilling the FBI Director's goal: forcing the two families back into a gang war. The Director was even considering introducing more gangs to escalate the scale of the conflict.

The Chief of Police found the plan a bit reckless, but he helped nonetheless.

He had the bail office delay the release of the Perez men. Once he knew Lance's group was ready to leave, he instructed the bail office to finalize the paperwork.

This ensured the two groups met, leading to the exact scene his friend had hoped for.

They provoked Ethan, and by extension, Lance.

They probably didn't even know whom they were provoking, but it didn't matter. That was their modus operandi.

Watching the two motorcades leave the police station one after the other, the Police Chief sighed softly. He wasn't entirely sure if this was the right thing to do, but he felt he had no better option.

Lance had provoked law enforcement numerous times, even daring to kill a Perez family member via a staged "car accident" right outside the police station entrance.

It was an absolute public humiliation for the New Golden City Police Department, far worse than anything the plantation owners inflicted on people of color.

It hurt both physically and emotionally. For a time, he, the Police Chief, had become a joke among his peers.

Lance clearly wasn't going to cooperate with them, nor did he intend to. So, this was the only way forward.

Since they weren't going to be allies, they had to be eliminated!

He fiercely slammed his cigarette onto the floor, sending sparks flying everywhere, then ground it with his heel, wishing them a pleasurable gunfight!

The car drove on. Lance was deep in thought, but Ethan's voice soon interrupted him. "If you plan to retaliate, take me with you."

Lance turned to look at him, then slowly shook his head. "You are a boxer with a great future, Ethan."

"The Federal boxing arena might one day be marked by your legend and history. Remember when we talked about this?"

"Joining a gang was a necessary evil for us. If possible, I would rather you work honestly, build a successful enterprise, and become a glamorous rich man, a capitalist, or even a politician in the eyes of the public."

"Not a gang member, which represents negativity, destruction, and chaos!"

"This was an unfortunate choice made out of necessity. If there is any possibility, I will find a new, wide road for all of you, one that is different from this muddy path."

"You, Sean, and our movie star, and all our brothers and sisters who have transitioned to normal jobs!"

"This is your path. It may be a bit dull and quiet, but it is stable."

"What you need to do now is embrace the light, not rejoin the darkness with us!"

"Go train. I want to see you become the Federal heavyweight champion, win that golden belt, and let everyone know that the golden belt is not just for Federal people and people of color. We can win it too!"

Ethan clenched his fist. He pursed his lips, not speaking, but nodding forcefully. "I will."

Lance had the motorcade stop briefly at the gym entrance and dropped Ethan off.

He spoke to the coach, advising him not to let Ethan do anything foolish, and arranged for one car to stay behind to protect Ethan from further attacks.

The coach was very grateful for Lance's decision. He also believed Ethan had a very high chance of winning the heavyweight title; he was a natural for the spotlight, and his talent would be wasted elsewhere.

After Lance left, Ethan returned to the gym and began extra training.

He made a decision that greatly satisfied and relieved his coach: he would live at the gym for the time being. He was going to fulfill his promise—to win that golden belt!

When the motorcade started up again, Lance lit a cigarette. Mador, who had been quiet the whole time, finally couldn't hold back. "What do we do next?"

Lance glanced at the darkening sky outside and smiled. "What else can we do?"

"We wait for nightfall, of course."

Mador hesitated. "I think someone wants us to fight."

Lance nodded, agreeing with him. "You're right. But there's another question here: would we have fought anyway, even without this incident?"

Mador thought for a moment, then shook his head. "No. We would have fought regardless."

Yes, they would have fought regardless. Several direct members of the Perez family were already dead at Lance's hands.

If they died during a gang war, then so be it; that was their fate. The moment they joined the underworld, or arguably the moment they were born carrying the name "Perez," their lives were destined to be anything but easy.

They enjoyed all the benefits the family brought them—wealth, power, social status, and influence—and naturally had to bear the corresponding responsibilities.

But their deaths felt somewhat... unjustly incurred, and more importantly, the Perez family had to compromise and apologize afterward. That was the unbearable part.

They had suffered setbacks twice and knew this wasn't the right time to move, so they waited until the situation was perfect for a massive gunfight.

"Since we were going to fight anyway, whether it's sooner or later doesn't really matter."

"More importantly..." He took a deep drag from his cigarette. "I want to see exactly who and how many people are orchestrating this from behind the scenes."

"If we follow their script, they will become careless, complacent, and expose a weakness."

Mador exhaled heavily. "As long as you have a plan."

The motorcade quickly accelerated, merging into the busy traffic of the New Golden City and disappearing.

Meanwhile, the men who attacked Ethan drove back to their territory. The mastermind behind the attack was a combat captain of the Perez family.

He had placed a large bet on Skull Crusher in the last boxing match.

Based on general analysis, Skull Crusher's odds were about the same as Ethan's, maybe slightly better—perhaps 55% versus 45%. There was a chance Ethan would lose.

This was because Skull Crusher had an excellent track record with better statistics than Ethan, giving people the mistaken impression that his experience and skill were superior.

The captain bet $2,000 on Skull Crusher to win. If he won, he would have received $1,600—a substantial profit.

But Ethan won.

Two days prior, someone he couldn't afford to offend approached him. That person had also bet on Skull Crusher and lost.

The man made a request: he wanted the captain to teach Ethan a lesson, preferably by sending him to jail.

The combat captain, who had just lost a massive amount of money, immediately agreed. He had been planning to do something anyway, which led to the assault.

Even now, he didn't feel he had done anything wrong. He had merely attacked a boxer, and no severe consequences resulted for either party. His lawyer told him it would likely only amount to a few hundred hours of community service, which was nothing to him.

He was sure those community organizations would never report him for skipping community service; otherwise, he would teach them why people feared gangs!

Now that he was back in familiar territory, he immediately began to complain. "You useless jerks! You always tell me you can take on three to five people, and some of you even claimed you could take on ten!"

"And today, you made me lose face!"

He walked over, pointing at the bruised and swollen men. "Eight of us against one man, and he almost took us all down! You sons of bitches, do you still dare to brag?"

"Huh?"

His subordinates looked ashamed. The youngest one couldn't help but speak up. "That guy's punches are too heavy, Boss!"

"When he punched me in the face, it felt like I was hit head-on by a truck! I was knocked off my feet!"

Another gang member also complained, "He hit me once, and I felt like my intestines were torn. I couldn't even stand up!"

The men started complaining one after another, which only infuriated the combat captain more. "So, it's my fault now?"

Seeing the look in their eyes—a look that said, "If you hadn't made us do this, it wouldn't have happened"—he cursed them. "You bitches! You're useless!"

"We're going to be the laughingstock of the family! F***!"

The tense atmosphere immediately dissolved. The men started chuckling. "Let them laugh! If anyone has a problem, tell them to fight that 'Mr. Ethan' one-on-one!"

"I guarantee that big guy will punch the shit out of them!"

After the men joked for a while, they noticed the combat captain still hadn't joined in. His expression was grim, and his eyes were full of malice.

"We can't let this go. I have to kill him!"

The others looked at each other, then fell silent. It wasn't that they were afraid of killing; they had done the family's dirty work and had executed two people before.

It was just that they felt... killing someone because they lost a bet seemed somewhat... unreasonable?

But the combat captain clearly disagreed!

"If we don't kill this man, we will absolutely become a joke. In the future, when the family has events or benefits, we'll be overlooked, understand?"

"Only his blood can wash away our shame!"

"He's a good fighter?"

"So what?"

"Can he withstand a dagger or a knife attack?"

"Can he take a bullet?"

"It's not convenient these two days. We just left the police station. If we move now, the police will be all over us."

"We wait a few days. Then we find a way to take him out."

The others looked at each other and finally agreed.

With the decision made, the combat captain seemed to relax. A smile appeared on his face. He grabbed several bottles of liquor from the cabinet. "Shit! I was so thirsty at the police station. They wouldn't even give me a sip of water, those sons of bitches!"

The others gathered around, laughing, ready to enjoy their favorite gang life of debauchery.

Cigarettes, alcohol, and the young people who walked in, eager to experience the gangster life.