Chapter 1084: The Bet and The Meeting

"Jeffrey and his faction have expanded their influence rapidly in Congress these past few years..." A gentleman in his fifties with a square face and graying hair spoke this sentence while looking down at the poker cards in his hands at a gambling table.

He seemed entirely focused on the game, yet his attention was clearly on the conversation. He then put down his cards and threw a few chips into the betting area.

"I had an investigation conducted. The reason for the rapid expansion of Jeffrey's power lies in his trip to Golden Port City. Everything happened after that."

He looked at the player to his left. "This Lance White fellow is interesting."

The man to his left, also a middle-aged Federal man of similar age, had already looked at his cards. He picked up a few chips of the same denomination and tossed them into the betting area. "Call."

After saying that, he continued the gray-haired man's conversation. "A large portion of the income from Golden Port City's gambling and Lance's liquor, along with other earnings, flows into the pockets of Jeffrey and his group."

"I hear the annual profits funneled by Golden Port City and Lance personally exceed one hundred million Federal Sols. That money is enough to support them in doing anything they want."

The third man across the table continued the thought. "So, to stop their influence from expanding further, we must first cut off the constant flow of benefits from Lance White."

The first speaker nodded. "Everything is built on self-interest. If these people can't provide them with so much profit, they won't be able to maintain the scale of their current operation."

"You know, everything costs money!"

"Rent, staff salaries, various expenditures, maintenance fees, and those items they manage to conjure up under various pretexts—I don't even know where they come up with the ideas!"

"Can you believe it?"

"They claimed a paper cut and submitted a hospital receipt for one hundred fifty dollars ($150)!"

Everyone around the gambling table laughed. Some continued the hand, and some folded.

They laughed because everyone had experienced this kind of creative invoicing to extract money from their pockets—like a teacup costing $20 or a coffee machine costing several thousand.

But they wouldn't break this unspoken rule of the game, because they, too, made money this way.

This money came from the capitalists who supported them or from the legalized or illicit businesses whose interests were intertwined with theirs. These entities channeled profits to the politicians, receiving stable returns in the form of political influence, policy changes, and necessary assistance.

It was the same for everyone. To expand one's influence in Congress, it was simple: hold a certain status, and spend money.

The Senate itself represented the pinnacle of political status, which they already possessed. But money was slightly harder to come by.

Senator Cleveland had the support of Lance and several capitalists, and those gathered here also had similar backing. The difference was that their patrons were neither as frequent nor as generous as Senator Cleveland's backers.

There was no one like Lance, who could contribute hundreds of millions annually. Without money, it was difficult to meet people's material desires. How could they gain support and help?

Joining Senator Cleveland's small group, if they could get in, guaranteed a minimum annual legal income of hundreds of thousands, or even more.

But joining their group might only yield an income of $200,000 to $300,000 a year, with $500,000 being the high end.

The severalfold difference, when their nominal political power was the same, meant whoever offered more money naturally gained more support.

Politics required money, and significant money at that. The spending spree began with the internal party nomination elections.

The Federal political environment allowed for lobbying. Congress even specifically allocated time and space for participants to lobby.

Pledging favors was the last resort; most of the time, money was the core means of securing votes.

Therefore, having money equated to having power.

And more power led to more money—a continuous cycle.

The betting circle returned to the gray-haired gentleman's position. A man who had folded began to deal the community cards. "Lance Poker" had become a phenomenon, widely played in the Federation, especially in high-society gatherings.

It was a game that balanced gambling and entertainment and could handle very high stakes, which people loved.

The gray-haired gentleman looked at the community cards on the table and threw in a few more chips.

He pulled a cigarette from his gem-encrusted case and lit it. "I spoke with Roland recently. He will find a way to eliminate Lance White and his people."

"If he can achieve this, I've promised him that I will not change his position, nor will I interfere with the internal operations of the FBI, once I take office."

Hearing this, the men at the table all looked somewhat surprised.

"Can he pull it off?" someone immediately questioned the capability of Director Roland (the FBI Director). "He hasn't shown that kind of ability before. Plus, Lance is backed by Jeffrey and his people. I heard another Supreme Court Justice just sided with them."

"If we can't shift their focus away from Lance and curb their abuse of power, even if Roland has a chance, he'll likely be called off."

"After all, this involves a massive transfer of interests. It has too many layers, and people at every level benefit. By doing this, you are challenging Jeffrey's entire system of interests."

It was clear from their conversation that the gray-haired gentleman believed he had a strong chance of winning the party nomination, suggesting this was an internal Liberal Party gathering.

The gray-haired gentleman was one of the nominated candidates. His confidence in winning the nomination and being selected as the Liberal Party's Presidential candidate stemmed not only from the fact that two of his ancestors appeared in that famous oil painting.

He himself was a powerful political force within the Liberal Party. Following the incumbent President's questionable methods, the Liberal Party had gained more attention from voters in recent years, naturally expanding their political influence.

The gray-haired gentleman had been preparing for this moment, and barring any unforeseen circumstances, he was highly likely to win.

He seemed unconcerned by his friend's question. "Jeffrey and his people are strong, but that doesn't mean they are the sole will in Congress. Haven't you noticed?"

"As their power grows stronger, more people in Congress resent them!"

"This is a trend, a tide. No one likes a faction or individual that holds ruling power in a place like this!"

The gray-haired man's statement garnered agreement from all the gentlemen at the table. Senator Cleveland's increasingly dominant behavior in Congress made him increasingly unpopular.

He could now virtually wield a veto. From the perspective of their political interest group, this was excellent; any bill they didn't want passed would be stopped.

But from another perspective, they were placing themselves in opposition to everyone outside their interest group.

To put it nicely, they could conduct interest exchanges or transactions to get certain proposals passed, but would friends—close friends—conduct business that way?

They drew too distinct a line between "us" and "them." The stronger they became, the stronger the resistance would be, even if it wasn't yet fully visible.

But following the general election and the new President taking office, Congressional seats would be redistributed, and Senator Cleveland's political interest group would be challenged.

This was why Senator Cleveland's faction believed the Liberal Party should only serve a four-year term. Eight years was too long, making the outcome too unpredictable.

Four years offered less uncertainty, and their control over Congress would remain strong. Pushing their own President into power then would allow them to maintain control of Congress for twelve years!

Maybe even longer!

This was virtually equivalent to standing at the pinnacle of power for life, and they had already been there for some time!

All the players in the political game understood the current situation, so they were constantly maneuvering to profit. When their goals converged at a certain point, a harmonious Congress would emerge—

Pushing the Liberal Party into power.

But this harmony wouldn't last long.

The gray-haired gentleman's neighbor hesitated, then threw his cards onto the table. "If Roland can pull this off, then everything aligns. But I am concerned Roland can't do it."

The gray-haired gentleman shrugged dismissively. "If he can't do it, we'll replace him. Someone will get it done."

"Empowering the FBI to centralize authority is a core goal of Congress. Even Jeffrey's people won't change that. This means 'de-gangsterization' will become a long-term goal."

"I notice that Lance White and his people are actively trying to launder their image. This is actually a good thing for us."

"When a crab has two claws out, we worry about getting hurt when we try to catch it."

"But if it breaks its own claws, then we have nothing to worry about."

"When a gang abandons the violence that makes us wary, that's when they walk into a dead end."

His explanations were somewhat rambling, but the gentlemen at the table clearly understood his meaning.

Image laundering was an inevitable trend for gangs at the bottom. The anti-gang proposal had passed and would become a long-term enforcement task.

Only by laundering their image could these gangs continue to securely hold their wealth and status. But once they ceased being gangs and became enterprises—even gray-area enterprises—their survival was no longer solely in their own hands.

Eliminating a large-scale gang like the Federal Five Families was no easy task.

Take the Perez family, for example: if peripheral members were included, the gang's headcount might be tens of thousands or more.

How difficult was it to deal with so many people?

But if they transformed into a business, one policy or a few regulatory adjustments could lead to their collapse and bankruptcy.

Forcing gangs to transition and then eliminating them within the government's system was a very clever and effective method.

Bringing troublesome enemies into their own system and then using their privilege to destroy them—the Federal government knew this game too well!

They had been playing it for a long time.

As the fourth community card was dealt, a smile appeared on the gray-haired gentleman's face. He bet another portion of his chips.

"Once Lance White is eliminated, we can focus our efforts on Jeffrey and his group. I believe many people will be eager to join us in dismantling them."

"After all, they've gained too much power and alienated too many people in recent years."

Everyone else nodded, agreeing with his assessment.

In a top Federal ruling body like Congress, one faction being too powerful wouldn't lead to subservience; it would only invite targeting, attacks, and conspiracies to overthrow them.

As the final card was dealt, the gray-haired gentleman pushed all his remaining chips into the center—easily tens of thousands of dollars.

The others looked at his unwavering push and shook their heads, tossing their poker hands onto the table.

This meant the gray-haired gentleman won the pot without showing his hand. He laughed heartily, pulling the chips toward him. Then, with a triumphant smirk, he slammed his two hole cards onto the table, displaying them to everyone.

The gentlemen at the table gasped in astonishment, and one even cursed. His hand was the weakest among all the players' hands and combinations.

He had cheated a victory that shouldn't have been his, like a thief!

But perhaps, that was the greatest charm of Lance Poker and gambling!

The table quickly moved on to a new round of the game, and their discussion shifted to other topics.

For them, this was a process of discussing work matters, while also relaxing and engaging in a game for some emotional release and competitive value.

Sometimes, policies that affected the entire Federation were decided, submitted, and passed in environments like this, in the midst of wins and losses.

Meanwhile, in the senior Agent Supervisor's study, he hesitated for a long time before finally deciding to meet Lance.

Lance's phone call made him feel uncomfortable and uneasy—mostly uneasy.

Since they had decided to target Lance and the Perez family first, they needed to be fully prepared with detailed intelligence on both gangs.

In his study of Lance's past, he noticed an anomaly:

Lance seemed like God's favorite bastard. Either his luck was extraordinary, or he always anticipated problems and prepared solutions ahead of time.

Therefore, except for the very beginning, when the Lance family organization was in its nascent stages and often encountered accidents, their growth had been remarkably smooth ever since they gained strength.

And those early setbacks weren't due to lack of foresight; they were mainly due to their small size and weakness.

In both gambling and reality, overwhelming power (capital) is always the most unsolvable attack method for the "poor."

The fact that Lance and his organization survived those challenges suggested they were truly exceptional.

In the senior Agent Supervisor's mind, Lance White was one of the top three gang leaders in the Federation.

If given more time to develop, he could become a legend of the underworld, someone who could not be ignored and who would become part of Federal history!

"Are you going out?" As he finished dressing and entered the living room, his wife, who was watching TV, sat up from the sofa.

Though she was used to her husband going out for work at night, seeing him leave so late still worried her slightly.

After all, the FBI was different now. Before, they were clowns, but now their work was becoming dangerous.

The senior Agent Supervisor nodded. "I forgot some materials at the Bureau. I'll just go get them. I'll be back soon."

Hearing this, his wife finally relaxed and lay back down. "Bring me back some coffee and a snack when you return. Make sure it has plenty of extra mayonnaise!"

The senior Agent Supervisor nodded, said "Okay," and left the house without looking back.

He lied to her primarily because he didn't want his wife to worry. He was also concerned that this outing might become a stain on his career. If his wife didn't know what he was doing, she wouldn't inadvertently expose him if subjected to future coercion.

He drove not to the location he had agreed upon with Lance, but to the FBI office first, registering his time with the security guard.

The guards didn't question these senior advisors too closely; after all, they were the true core of the agency.

When logging his time, he deliberately wrote the time ten minutes later than it was. He believed ten minutes was enough time for his meeting with Lance.

A moment later, he left and drove to the rendezvous point with Lance...