Chapter 1082: The Ban is Lifted

Alan lowered his arm, looking at the young man who had pitched forward onto the ground. He stepped forward and fired a few more shots into his head.

The media had recently been reporting heroic deeds from the war to dilute the public's fear and dissatisfaction with the conflict.

Initially, these were genuine acts of heroism, but they quickly turned into... sensational news. For example, they featured several unlucky individuals who had been shot in the head, displaying their wounds to readers and viewers worldwide.

One man was shot through the head, but survived.

The cost was a hole in his skull, and to save his life and verify certain medical hypotheses, a part of his brain tissue was removed.

Although the man was now confined to a wheelchair and had lost some behavioral capacity, he was at least alive and was awarded a Purple Heart Medal for his heroic conduct on the battlefield.

In reality, he had no truly heroic deeds; he was simply shot, and woke up back in the Federation.

Two other unfortunate individuals still had bullets lodged in their heads that couldn't be removed. Doctors believed the unpredictable consequences of removing the bullets were more dangerous than leaving them where they were. These two would live the rest of their lives with bullets in their heads.

This would lead to a series of problems as the warheads rusted, but currently, no one seemed to care or were deliberately ignoring these issues, instead blindly praising them as "miracles showing God's favor for the Federation."

After all, if a gunshot to the head couldn't kill a man, who besides God could keep him alive?

Federal people were naïve and easily misled; they genuinely believed this narrative—that God protected the Federation and its citizens.

This also led to a dangerous misconception: that sometimes, a shot to the head might not kill a person.

Alan and his men used small-caliber bullets, so as not to draw attention. These slender bullets only made a pfft-pfft sound and had limited destructive power.

He was worried that the two small rounds fired into the combat captain's head wouldn't kill him, so he fired a few more rounds as insurance.

Each shot to the man's head caused his body to shudder before falling still again.

When the gun was empty, Alan checked the weapon, locked the slide, and holstered it.

"Clean up," he instructed, then quickly followed Lance's footsteps.

"This man was manipulated. How should we counter the Perez family's inevitable retaliation?"

Lance walked to the car door, holding it open. He glanced back at the house. "Have the brothers prepare for a fight. If we have to fight, we will fight."

"We never acquired everything we possess through political maneuvering. Anyone who tries to take what's ours or force us to submit will ultimately become a step on our ladder to greater heights."

"They are not the storm—we are!"

He got into the car. Alan hurried into the front car.

The motorcade slowly left the area, and the "disposal van" (灭鼠车) arrived promptly. Although Lance had purchased the house under someone else's name, the clean-up needed to be thorough.

Not just this combat captain, but every person who attacked Ethan was subjected to a bloody and horrifying retaliation.

Coincidentally, someone had reported seeing individuals dumping barrels into the sea early in the morning recently. The tip came from a man who regularly jogged by the sea. He had seen people disposing of barrels and called the police.

However, the police found no evidence of the dumping during their inspection. Ocean currents were powerful, and even if the surface looked calm, immense unseen forces below stirred everything.

The barrels were quickly carried elsewhere, where they would sink to the seabed, be covered by layers of sand, perhaps become overgrown with marine plants, and eventually form part of the foundation of the oceanic ecosystem.

Meanwhile, the disappearance of a combat captain and his subordinates was noticed by the family organization and reported to the combat captain's superior cadre.

Their first thought was that the captain had stolen family money and fled. They went to his house but found no sign of a hurried departure.

His personal belongings were untouched, and the state of the house suggested they had left very suddenly. Rotting food and half-prepared meals on the table indicated they were planning for the next day's breakfast or lunch just before they vanished.

Others who disappeared were in a similar state. Some vanished with their entire families, others alone. No one knew where they went.

The company accounts were clean; they hadn't stolen any money. They had simply vanished!

"They were likely murdered by someone, and the perpetrators did a very clean job, which is why we only noticed something was wrong now!"

The speaker was a Perez family cadre—a direct lineage member—responsible for the family's "discipline."

In any large organization or family, some individuals always abuse their status or power, violating organizational rules.

This requires a dedicated person to punish them and remind them of the importance of following the rules.

This person generally held a high position within the family to command respect.

You couldn't have a combat captain punish a cadre, or a branch member punish a direct lineage member; that would inevitably lead to conflict and division.

The person responsible was Damon Perez, Fran's younger brother.

He had always handled this type of work within the family and was experienced, so when he delivered his judgment, the faces of the people in the room changed slightly.

Their gazes were inquiring and wary. Damon remained calm in the face of these thugs because of his high status; everyone, regardless of whether they were direct or branch members, had to obey him.

Many people misunderstood gangs, believing them to be loose, free-spirited, and minimally constrained violent criminal organizations.

In reality, gangs were more rigidly hierarchical and disciplined than many companies.

What they showed the public was a façade of a loosely structured organization, but internally, they maintained a very strict, almost military-like, hierarchy.

The upper levels maintained near-absolute control over the lower levels.

When Damon delivered his conclusion, it was the final word.

"Investigate this. See if they caused any trouble recently. I heard one of them used the family lawyer's resources recently?"

"Follow that lead and find out who they clashed with. Regardless of who it is, they will pay the price."

It was an unreasonable statement. Regardless of who the culprits were, or whether they committed the subsequent acts, Damon believed they were responsible and demanded accountability and payment.

This was the arrogance and unreasonableness of the Federal Five Families. But then again, how could a gang built on violence, weaponry, and crime be expected to respect law and reason?

They didn't operate on "reason," but on "I believe."

He tapped his finger forcefully on the table, making a dull sound. "This concerns the honor of the Perez family. I need a kill with honor. They must be executed to let everyone know that we are not small-time players that anyone can provoke!"

"Start the investigation immediately!"

He stood up, gave one of his men a meaningful glance, and left the room.

Seven or eight minutes later, he arrived at Fran's office. They lived in a large estate, not in the New Golden City, but still in Gold State.

It was about three hundred kilometers away from the New Golden City.

Fortunately, they had phones for quick communication. The people in the New Golden City would soon mobilize based on his decision, and he needed to inform his older brother about his plan.

"Come in..." Fran, when not angry, looked like a gentle gentleman. Seeing Damon enter, he immediately stood up and embraced him. "What's the result? Do we know anything?"

Damon sat down in the chair opposite Fran's desk. "They were likely eliminated by someone. I've sent people to investigate and should have an answer soon."

Fran frowned. "I would prefer they just ran off with the money!"

Damon's expression was serious, and he understood what Fran meant.

Running off with the money was an internal issue, which could be attributed to loose management or other internal matters—something easily resolved.

But if the cause was an external force, it would give the impression that the Perez family was weakening. Their previous conflicts with the Lance family ended with their public apology, which already shook the Perez family's authority in the Federal underworld. Their influence was shrinking.

The other families constantly ridiculed them for being beaten, but Fran swore that if not for the pressure from Congress, he would have eliminated Lance and his entire family long ago!

If a new challenger emerged, more would follow, and they would multiply.

Being a large family had advantages: plenty of manpower and immense strength; smaller gangs were no match.

But it also had disadvantages: the sheer size meant they couldn't possibly defend against every small attack.

When facing countless small challengers, like fleas, they had no good way to deal with them.

Like a lion on the savanna, it could only helplessly ignore the provocations of fleas and flies.

"We will find out soon. They used the family lawyer, who must know something."

"And my idea is that regardless of who did this, we must act immediately and eliminate them. We have to show everyone that provoking us is easy, but the price is one they may not be able to afford."

"Also, there is one more thing I want to discuss with you."

Fran took out a cigarette. "What is it?"

With a ding, a flame shot out of the lighter. Rongsen lighters were becoming increasingly popular; they were more aligned with the aesthetics and psychology of the wealthy than ordinary windproof lighters.

The mirrored gem-like casing gave it a look of discreet luxury. Held in the hand, it wasn't just a lighter; it was a symbol of status and wealth.

He took a drag and slowly exhaled the smoke, looking at his brother.

Damon organized his thoughts. "Regarding the Lance family issue, shouldn't we... take some action?"

"Twice, Fran. We have been publicly humiliated twice. If we don't fight back, people's laughter will only grow louder. They will think we are weaklings who can't even offer a strong counter-attack against provocation!"

Fran nodded as he listened. "I've been considering this recently. I will inquire about the will of the people above. If they no longer restrict us from fighting, then prepare to move."

"We will eliminate this group in one fell swoop!"

Damon looked at Fran's confidence. His attitude shifted subtly again. "You should ask if those behind Lance will exert pressure on us."

Fran took another deep drag. "I will."

Just as they were talking, the phone on Fran's desk rang. He glanced at Damon, then picked up the phone. "This is Fran..."

"...Is that so?"

"Okay, I understand. Thank you for the information. I will have someone transfer the money to the account."

"Mmm, goodbye!"

He hung up and looked at Damon. "That was the lawyer. He informed me that before they disappeared, those men attacked a boxer named Ethan because the boxer cost them money in an illegal bet."

"They then found out that this Ethan is a friend of Lance White, and they even saw Lance himself at the police station."

Damon immediately reacted. "The Lance family did this?"

Fran's face became grim—a visible change he often exhibited when facing particularly difficult issues.

"He likely felt we were testing him, and he retaliated harshly."

"So, what do we do now?"

"The entire family will know this news soon. If we do nothing..."

Fran let out a heavy sigh. "Tell them to prepare. Lance is in the New Golden City right now. See if we can find an opportunity."

"As for the people above, I will consult them."

Damon immediately stood up. "I'll go make the arrangements. If the order to act is given, call me, or call anyone else."

Fran nodded. "I won't walk you out."

After watching Damon leave, he took a drag of his cigarette. After a moment, he picked up the phone. "It's me, Fran."

"Senator, I mentioned before that the Lance family is disrupting the entire underworld order and threatening social stability and public order."

"Since their emergence, gunfights have become frequent, which didn't happen before."

"Just in the last two days, they eliminated a team of my men. The emotion within the family is running high, and I am finding it difficult to suppress."

"So... I want to ask: if I engage in a fight with them now, will Congress intervene?"

The Five Families, the rulers of the underworld at the Federal level, certainly had political representatives in Congress and the high levels of the political sphere; otherwise, they wouldn't have reached this point.

Furthermore, the heads of these Five Families, or the organizations bearing these surnames, were not ordinary people.

It was said that their ancestors were highly influential figures, possibly military officers, dating back to the founding of the Federation, and their influence had persisted to this day.

Purely by their own ability, it would be impossible to reach such a high status.

The underworld, like the political sphere and the capital market, was fundamentally the same in these competitive environments.

It was about foundation, connections, and capital. They needed something significant to leverage.

The Senator who supported the Perez family was surprised by the request. He hadn't expected the friction between the two gangs to be so frequent, erupting immediately after the armistice.

He was about to say that fighting was forbidden, but then he remembered his faction's earlier discussions about strengthening their power in Congress. Directly competing with Senator Cleveland's group was difficult, so they had to maneuver indirectly.

They planned to use unconventional methods to seek greater power, which included supporting the FBI's move to gain more authority.

If the FBI gained authority, they gained some, too, which was a quicker way to gain more opportunities.

And the FBI seemed to be pushing for a de-gangsterization process. They had discussed this before. If the gangs fought, the FBI could gather more criminal evidence.

This might be an opportunity.

After a tense twenty to thirty seconds of waiting, the answer Fran wanted came through the receiver. "The ban is lifted, but don't harm innocent people."