Chapter 1086: The Spokesperson

"You met with Lance?"

The senior Agent Supervisor entered his friend's house. He placed his hat and briefcase on the rack near the door, then walked into the living room.

As soon as he entered, he heard his friend ask that question.

This made the senior Agent Supervisor feel a little... he didn't know how to describe it, but uncomfortable.

"Yes, we met," he looked around. "Are you alone?"

His friend was about his age, maybe two years older. He was married with three children, a typical middle-class family.

Middle-class Federal families were currently reluctant to have too many children because the cost of raising them and providing them with quality education was high.

For example, various private schools and elite education.

As potential beneficiaries of this system, they knew better than ordinary people what sacrifices were required for their children to maintain this lifestyle and have a chance to climb higher.

Two children, three children, was the limit. Any more and they couldn't afford their children's expenses.

His friend shrugged. "They moved to another community. You should remember it; we went to see it together once."

"My God!" the senior Agent Supervisor exclaimed. "Are you talking about the house we looked at two years ago?"

"You bought it?"

"How much?!"

They had previously looked at a detached house in a high-end community: three stories above ground, one basement level. It was larger than this house, with a net usable area of over six hundred square feet, including the basement.

The house also had about two hundred square feet of private outdoor space, a garden.

The developer didn't restrict what owners could do with the land. They could install a lawn, do some gardening, dig a swimming pool, or build a court—anything was allowed.

The developer imposed no mandatory requirements. Each house was separated by some distance, ensuring good privacy, and the community roads and facilities were comprehensive.

When they viewed the house, they noticed there was a supermarket—a "community-only supermarket"—in the center of the neighborhood. If residents needed anything, they didn't even have to go buy it themselves.

With just a phone call, the supermarket staff would prepare the items and deliver them to their homes.

Everything there was excellent. The residents were all middle-class people in the ascending phase of society, moving toward the upper class.

In short, it was an excellent choice, the only drawback being the price: about forty thousand dollars.

Forty thousand dollars was an astronomical price for an ordinary worker. An average worker would have to work for a hundred years without spending a cent to afford that much money.

Two years ago, that price prevented them from buying a house in that community.

But this year, the senior Agent Supervisor's friend bought it.

Facing his friend's questions, his friend smiled with reserved pride, answering in a tone that sounded nonchalant. "Sixty thousand dollars."

"They initially wanted sixty-three thousand, but I negotiated for a long time, and they finally agreed to sixty thousand."

"But I have to spend five thousand dollars at their community supermarket within three years."

"My God!" the senior Agent Supervisor stared at his friend in disbelief. "Sixty thousand dollars?"

"The price rose that much?"

His friend brought over some food and liquor. "You know, wages have increased a lot, and the war tax was canceled. People are earning more. The price of a house in that community isn't just a simple number."

"It's purchasing power!"

This was a term he had learned recently. Using novel terminology made one sound sophisticated, a characteristic of the middle class—they always felt, and hoped, they were at the cutting edge of the times.

"Actually, the money you have to pay is the same as what you would have paid in the past, in terms of income."

"In the past, you needed a hundred years of income; now, it still requires a hundred years of income. So, its value hasn't changed with the currency; it's constant."

"And when I need to sell it later, it will still be worth two lifetimes of an ordinary person's income."

Hearing this, the senior Agent Supervisor was envious. "You lucky bastard. Did you get a raise recently?"

His friend smiled, a "mysterious" smile. "No."

"Then how did you..." The senior Agent Supervisor couldn't help but probe. This was a very private question, but their friendship was genuinely good, which allowed him to ask.

With another person, he certainly wouldn't have asked; it would be too impolite.

His friend handed him a glass containing some liquor and clinked his own glass against his.

After they both drank some of the liquor, his friend said, "You know, life presents many choices, and many opportunities."

"Choosing an option that helps our future development is very important."

"My job hasn't changed much, but I now have an additional stream of income, and it's quite substantial."

"It provides me with about eight thousand to ten thousand dollars in income annually."

At this point, the senior Agent Supervisor vaguely realized that this extra income must be related to Lance.

He didn't speak immediately, instead contemplating the situation. His friend didn't rush him, simply drinking and eating the food on the table.

There was various grilled meat, pickled cucumbers, and vegetable salad. They sat cross-legged on the soft carpet in the living room, gathered around the coffee table, rather than sitting formally at the dining table.

This kind of dining atmosphere was more relaxed and less formal, making it easier to discuss sensitive topics.

It was like this: if you and your friend were in a very formal room, dressed formally, discussing an issue, everyone would be very cautious.

But if you were in a restroom, the conversation would be much more relaxed.

After about a minute, the senior Agent Supervisor asked, "What do Lance's people require you to do for them?"

His friend shook his head. "You actually misunderstand one concept."

"While the source of this money might indeed be Lance White and his criminal organization, after flowing through layers of transactions, it has very little to do with Lance White by the time it reaches my hands."

"And most importantly, it is legal—investment income, and the tax is low. If not for the tax, my annual extra income would be at least ten thousand dollars."

"I am not Lance White's man. He doesn't have the capacity to hire me. In reality... you know, I've always had contacts with those people—professionally and privately."

The senior Agent Supervisor knew "those people" were some figures in Congress, specifically Senator Cleveland's faction.

Their current influence was massive, so many people were willing to cooperate and work for them.

On one hand, it was for a powerful backing and visible political support; on the other hand, Senator Cleveland's faction was simply too generous!

Following them always yielded some income. In recent years, a large group of wealthy people appeared in the New Golden City, and their wealth was, directly or indirectly, tied to this interest group.

After all, Lance alone channeled over a hundred million dollars in funds annually. The accumulated funds from other sources were even greater.

Furthermore, they had just harvested a wave of investors and used their political power to ensure the capitalists behind them profited from unethical businesses.

In short, it was a continuously expanding interest group.

Of course, these small-time figures didn't know the full details; they only knew that by following Senator Cleveland and his group, they would receive benefits periodically.

And the benefits were endless. As long as they didn't do anything foolish and listened, they would definitely get their share.

The senior Agent Supervisor's friend earned only about two thousand dollars from his official salary. In other words, after aligning himself with Senator Cleveland's group, his income increased fourfold. Such an increase was hard to refuse.

"So, you are a spokesperson today?" the senior Agent Supervisor took a bite of a pickled cucumber.

The sourness made his sphincter tighten momentarily. He then quickly put a piece of grilled, fatty meat in his mouth, which made the intense flavor palatable.

His friend shook his head. "No, I'm not truly a spokesperson. My reason for inviting you here today isn't solely for that."

"One reason is to tell you I've moved. If you need to find me later, you'll need to come to my new house, and I'll give you a new phone number."

"We've been friends for over ten years. We have fewer friends around us now. I value our friendship very much."

"The second reason is to discuss this matter with you in more detail. It's not suitable to talk about over the phone. Meeting face-to-face makes communication easier."

"Even if you choose not to join us, my advice is: do not stand in opposition to them."

The senior Agent Supervisor immediately countered stubbornly, "I am not standing in opposition to them!"

His friend looked helpless. "Come on!"

"We both know you are investigating Lance White, and Lance White is one of the core contributors of benefit to this interest group."

"Don't tell me this is just official business. We've both worked in government for about ten years. Have you ever seen the Federal government operate purely on 'official business'?"

His tone was sharp and aggressive, a hint of mockery on his face. "The Federal government has always been a tool, a means, a platform for certain people to control this country and its people, nothing more."

"Your so-called official business is just their personal agenda. How much have you, me, or anyone else truly done for the people?"

"Think carefully: have we done more for the people, or more for these powerful figures?"

This was a knockout blow that instantly silenced the senior Agent Supervisor. He drank some liquor from his glass, his expression troubled.

His friend was absolutely right. They had always served the interests of their superiors and officials, not truly the ordinary people.

However, he was still somewhat... hesitant to accept. "But if I align with Senator Cleveland's side, will I then be serving the people?"

His friend shook his head. "As long as you are within the Federal government system, no matter which side you stand on, you will not be serving the people."

"My purpose in telling you all this is simply to make one thing clear: whoever you serve, you are aligning with."

"Right now, you are aligned with your Director Roland. But do you know whose side Director Roland is on?"

"Do you know why they want to target Lance White and the other gangs?"

"Gangs have existed for so many years and have effectively managed the Federal underworld, the places we can't see. Do you truly think they have no value?"

Federal systems inherently faced this problem: power struggled to permeate downward. The Federal government's power extended only to the Federal level, and the state government's power only to the state level.

Below that, the city mayor was in charge, and the governor might not even be able to bypass the mayor to change a city's development policies.

It was the same further down: the mayor's influence might be less than the town supervisor's, and the town supervisor's less than the sheriff's.

But gangs cut across all these levels. They could effectively coordinate things in areas where upper-level power couldn't intervene, ensuring everything was carried out according to the Federal government's wishes.

Suppressing strikes, suppressing workers and farmers who dared to cause trouble, even cutting off traffic, blockading farms, burning crops, and killing livestock to force them into compliance.

Could you order the military to do this?

Could you order the police to do this?

Clearly not. The Federal government still cared about appearances, so only gangs could do these things.

It was a complete system of rule. Perhaps the gangs were slightly out of control now, but they were still needed overall.

The senior Agent Supervisor fell silent. As a frontline worker, he understood these internal dynamics well. However, Director Roland had placed great trust in him. Aligning with Senator Cleveland now made him feel like he was betraying Director Roland's trust.

Seeing his good friend caught in this dilemma, the host clinked his glass against his again. "I'm not asking you to commit to aligning with us. I'm suggesting you shouldn't take sides."

"I have a suggestion: if you are unwilling to align with anyone, the best option is to resign and find a different job."

"Given your work experience, I can help you find other, better work."

"That way, you won't be put in this awkward position."

The senior Agent Supervisor instinctively shook his head. Work elsewhere?

What kind of job would be better?

He was quite satisfied with his current job and income. Not only was the pay high, but he also held power and authority.

He was quite optimistic about the FBI's future development; it was poised to become a very powerful authority within the Federation.

And now, in its early stages of expansion, was the time to "invest."

Even if he took another job, wouldn't he face the same problems?

He didn't know.

Seeing the senior Agent Supervisor remain noncommittal, his friend didn't rush him. "We are good friends, friends for over ten years, so I'm going to be direct. If you don't like what I'm saying... you still have to listen."

This made the senior Agent Supervisor chuckle. "You really are an unreasonable and arrogant person!"

They clinked glasses again. "I'm not arrogant or unreasonable. It's just that we've been friends for so long, and I don't want you to suddenly... leave me, leave this world."

The senior Agent Supervisor had raised his glass, but set it down again. "Is it that serious?"

"I'm a senior supervisor in the FBI! I'm part of the senior management!"

His friend scoffed. "Don't forget, several Presidents have been assassinated in the past. How do you compare to the President?"

Just as the senior Agent Supervisor was about to protest, his friend continued. "Listen to me first. You aren't just moving against one gang or one gang leader; you are moving against a system that channels hundreds of millions of dollars annually."

"If you target Lance White, you are not just offending Lance White and his family; you are offending hundreds, maybe thousands, of people who benefit from that colossal fund."

"And those people are all high-status. You know, if they weren't high-status, they wouldn't get a share of that money."

The senior Agent Supervisor couldn't help but ask, "Including you?"

His friend was candid. "Including me."

"If you caused me to lose thousands of dollars of extra income a year, I would definitely be angry with you."

"But because we're friends, I would just be angry."

"What about the others?"

"They aren't your friends. How will they deal with you? Have you thought about it?"

"Everything you possess will be taken from you. You will lose everything—your family, relatives, wife, children, and perhaps even your life and theirs!"

"I don't want that day to come, so when they mentioned this task, I proactively volunteered to take it."

"Take my advice: you are not their match. Roland is not their match. And neither are the people behind Roland!"

"You are only on the 'outside.' You haven't truly understood the 'inside,' so you fundamentally don't know what kind of 'monster' you are facing!"