Chapter 1094: Speculation and Responsibility

If a person commits a wicked act, how do they ensure everyone knows about it?

It’s simple, they just tell people.

However, the Perez family was not a "superficial" organization. It wasn't appropriate for them to boast openly about their deed, yet they needed to subtly remind people:

Look, I did this.

So, what was the best method?

Fran's gaze remained fixed on Bob. Bob's successful action this time pleased him greatly, and he decided to give Bob this opportunity as well.

Meeting Fran's eyes, Bob knew he was being prompted to speak. He was happy to do so.

The Perez family was enormous. Those on the periphery considered the formal members to be incredible individuals.

The formal members, in turn, believed that only those with the Perez surname were truly special, while the branch members considered the direct lineage members the true core.

But only the direct lineage members knew that even among them, there were useful members and useless ones.

Useful members, like Bob, naturally held great power, while the useless ones might still be farming Maple Herb in some rural area.

Lance's previous arson attack on the farms killed many, but the market did not shrink. In fact, because the number of wealthy people was increasing, the market was growing, requiring them to cultivate more farmland to meet the demand for Maple Herb extract.

This was more than just making money; it was about integrating into various upper-class circles.

Sometimes, one had to admire the Federal market. Although there was no explicit prohibition against capitalists harvesting the bottom layer of the populace, there seemed to be an invisible force that protected those at the bottom.

They avoided many crises, not losing their shirts in the stock market.

They avoided attending social events like salons and becoming interested in certain commodities.

They wouldn't use expensive miracle drugs. In every instance, all the scythes seemed to fly right over the heads of the lower classes.

In reality, what protected them was their poverty.

Only the wealthy and the upper class could afford Maple Herb, which made it a vital source of connections.

Maple Herb was important, but the people who farmed it were not necessarily important.

Individuals like Bob were ultimately a minority. If Bob wished to maintain his status within the family in the face of subsequent challengers, he had to demonstrate continued competence to prove his value.

Taking a few seconds, Bob smiled with great satisfaction and exuberance. "We just need to sell or display our spoils. People will figure out what happened!"

Fran narrowed his eyes, considering Bob's words, then smiled. "You always understand me, Bob."

Bob bowed slightly to show respect for Fran.

Fran looked at the others. "Do as he says. First, have people spread the rumor that the Lance family's convoy was attacked. Then, find an opportunity to sell some of their liquor, making sure the truth is discovered 'inadvertently.'"

"We must make sure they know that the Perez family does more than just compromise—we fight back!"

He paused, then took out a handkerchief and wiped his mouth. As he aged, Fran faced the issues all elderly people did.

For example, when he talked too much, saliva would collect at the corners of his mouth. The more excited he was, the more prominent it became.

Even though he was mindful of this, he couldn't change it, only wiping it away occasionally.

This was a constant reminder that he was truly aging.

Aging brought many drawbacks, though also some advantages, but these advantages were insignificant compared to the cost of getting old.

Things like established authority.

"Based on my understanding of that young man, Lance, he will retaliate quickly. That's what I want."

"If they continue to stay in the New Golden City, it'll be hard for us to engage in a large-scale gunfight. But if they seek revenge, they must come here to cause trouble."

"Tighten up security around our businesses in the New Golden City and make sure they call the police immediately if necessary..."

The expressions of some family members turned strange. Calling the police—the word felt so alien to them.

Seeing the odd looks on their faces, Fran smiled and shook his head. "See? That's the biggest difference between you and Lance."

"He will call the police. He will use every resource at his disposal—turning them into tools, knives, and weapons—to attack his enemies."

"But you still cling to those antiquated ideas. Sometimes, I think you are the old men!"

"Especially regarding legitimate businesses. We pay taxes, so we should receive protection from law enforcement, not discrimination."

"We will bring the battlefield to our turf. We'll make them attack us, and then we will counter-attack fiercely!" He waved his hand in the air, his fingers suddenly clenching as if gripping something.

Everyone else nodded. Some looked thoughtful.

Fran took two deep, ragged breaths, then slowly calmed his breathing. "We cannot afford to lose this time."

"Though I hate to say it, this is a massive humiliation for us. But, my family members, we truly cannot fail again."

"They are just laughing at us now, mocking our failure. If we lose to Lance and his people again..."

Fran's expression became serious and heavy. "We will quickly be swallowed by the massive waves of challengers of the new era!"

"In short, everyone be vigilant during this time. If you notice anything amiss, communicate immediately. That's all for now."

This was Fran's directive. After the meeting, these senior cadres would make their own arrangements.

The highest level was only concerned with the macro direction: east or west.

The medium-level cadres were the ones who decided how to travel east or west.

The entire Perez family mobilized. Leveraging their immense influence and network across the Federal Central region, within two days, everyone in the Federal underworld knew that the Lance family's convoy had been robbed, they had lost a massive shipment of goods, and many of their men had died.

This was huge news for the underworld. Although people had suspected that conflict would erupt again between the Lance and Perez families, no one expected it to happen so quickly!

Not long after the news spread, the Perez family began selling some Copper Label and Silver Label Whiskey. This was liquor produced by the Lance family itself—a signature product.

Given the existing conflict and hatred between the two families, the Perez family certainly hadn't bought this liquor from Lance.

The origin of the liquor was clear to everyone.

They had robbed Lance's convoy as an act of revenge. People were now eagerly anticipating how Lance would respond.

"How will he respond?" Inside the FBI office, Director Roland also pondered the question with a frown.

Five days had passed since Lance's convoy was attacked, yet Lance hadn't immediately retaliated. This was somewhat uncharacteristic of the impression he had left on people.

Everyone who knew Lance and his organization knew they were volatile, like explosives.

Lance could stab Paige in the thigh in a restaurant or burn down the Perez family's Maple Herb farm. If you offended him, he would almost immediately retaliate fiercely, never showing leniency to those who challenged them.

But this time, they seemed to have gone silent?

"What are your thoughts?" Director Roland looked at his senior Agent Supervisors, hoping to gain some... inspiration.

There was no doubt that their strategy was successful. Through subtle goading and guidance, the tension between the two gangs had intensified significantly. But why was Lance silent this time?

A younger senior Agent Supervisor, who was a product of the elite alliance universities, spoke up. "Could they be preparing a counter-attack?"

"After all, this is Gold State. Their forces haven't fully infiltrated here yet. Mobilizing people takes time."

The young supervisor who spoke was a product of the elite alliance universities—a genuine social elite. Even if he hadn't joined the FBI, he would have had a broad future in politics or business.

His alumni network could provide him with information that would lead to his rapid rise.

Having many options, he ultimately chose to join the FBI, fully believing in the agency's potential development.

The dream Roland wove for them instilled confidence that the FBI would become the top law enforcement agency in the Federation!

Working in a place with such immense growth potential and future authority meant he didn't feel he was "demeaning himself."

Director Roland nodded. "Your idea makes sense. Their manpower here is thin. If they want to wage war against the Perez family, they certainly need more men."

"Does anyone else have any thoughts?"

Another senior Agent Supervisor, named Zoe, who was sitting at the table, looked down, his eyes filled with a complex, struggling expression.

After a moment, Director Roland noticed his mood and proactively addressed him. "Zoe, do you have any thoughts?"

The supervisor, addressed as "Zoe," first looked up blankly, his eyes confused, but quickly cleared his head. "Yes, I have an idea, but I don't know if it's correct."

Director Roland leaned back in his chair. "Speak your mind. We have no hierarchy here. By exchanging ideas, we might find what we're looking for."

Zoe took a deep breath. "I wonder... is it possible that the Lance family has already taken action, and we just haven't realized it?"

This statement plunged the entire conference room into an eerie silence. Some people even slowed their breathing.

They exchanged glances, seeing a sense of the unbelievable reflected in each other's eyes.

Shock, surprise, and even a confused fear!

Director Roland also took a deep breath. His gaze lingered on Zoe for a moment before he leaned forward again, resting his hands on the pencil on the desk. "An excellent hypothesis!"

"There's a real possibility of that. Based on my understanding of Lance White, he would not let the Perez family provoke him like this."

"If he has truly acted, but we haven't seen it, it means there's a problem with our surveillance and deployment strategy."

His expression was serious, even grim. "I bear a great deal of responsibility. I didn't consider this possibility. Zoe has reminded me."

"We shouldn't only be monitoring the Lance family members here; we should be monitoring them across the entire Federation."

At this point, one of the senior Agent Supervisors couldn't help but say, "They have thousands of people. If we include the peripheral members, the number is huge. We don't have the resources to monitor every single person."

Director Roland shook his head. "The fact that you said such an immature thing shows you haven't truly started to take this job, and Lance White, seriously!"

"We can focus on monitoring their senior cadres, or even more specifically, a combat captain managed by each senior cadre."

"The internal structure of these gangs is usually like this. If we monitor a few key people, we can figure out their general movements."

His gaze landed on Zoe. "Since you proposed this theory, helping us refine our work process, Zoe..."

Zoe sat up straighter. "I'm here."

"I am putting you in charge of this matter. You will arrange people to monitor every senior Lance family cadre, and ensure the combat captains under them are also closely watched!"

"I need to know where they are and when."

"I'm not asking you to figure out what they are doing or saying—that's too difficult."

"But I need to know where they are, when they were there, and whom they met. You can handle that, can't you?"

The sudden responsibility made Zoe somewhat uneasy. He forced a smile. "I worry I won't be able to do it well."

He wasn't worried about his competence; he was worried the internal conflict would reveal his secret.

Director Roland, however, showed complete faith in him. "We've all been learning through trial and error since birth."

"No one is born knowing everything. We only master things through learning, failure, and continuous practice."

"Try, Zoe."

"I will allocate any resources you need. Just try, okay?"

Meeting Director Roland's gaze, Zoe found himself unable to refuse. He could only nod stiffly. "I will try!"