Chapter 1157: A Boring Meeting

People were keeping an eye on this matter. Unfortunately, they didn't see the two brothers, only two oil drums being transported away.

Their destination was, in all likelihood, Angel Lake, which had already become a holy land for dumping bodies.

This wasn't to say that dumping bodies in Angel Lake was safe, but rather that there were too many bodies there. Retrieving them was worse than not retrieving them.

The FBI had gone deep to the bottom of the lake to observe. Roland would definitely have Derrick try to follow up on such an obvious rumor that could incriminate Lance .

But after trying once, they gave up. Countless oil drums, piled up like mountains over decades... just one look was enough to make one's scalp tingle.

There were at least a thousand, perhaps several thousand, oil drums down there.

Although they didn't see the two men, they roughly understood Lance's attitude.

At past one in the afternoon, this year's Federal Gang Council officially convened in the grand conference room.

The Four Families certainly wouldn't appear so early. The first to arrive were those with insufficient influence. Their abilities, power, and strength were too weak. There was no reason for the big gangs to arrive first and wait for them.

Lance and the Four Families would be the last to appear. But in the process, some small problems still occurred.

"The gangs from Rota State have withdrawn from this event." As Lance was preparing for the upcoming event, Melo leaned in and told him this.

"Because of those two dead ghosts?" Lance wasn't nervous at all and even cracked a joke.

Melo nodded. "They demanded the men from us. I ignored them. Then, under the leadership of a few people, they decided to withdraw from this event."

"And..." Melo paused, observing Lance's expression. "...they said that in the future, they will not participate in any event you attend."

This was a clear targeting, and a very disrespectful act.

Melo thought Lance would be upset, but Lance showed no extra reaction.

"They think there will be a 'future'?" He scoffed twice. This was the most foolish thing about most gangs of this era—they always saw themselves as too important.

Lance stood up, walked to the window with a cigar in his hand, and looked at this city that belonged to him. Of course, nominally it belonged to the Federation, to the Williams family , but in reality, it belonged to him, to Lance himself.

Only by observing this city from such a vantage point, overlooking the whole, could one feel the beauty of that "power." It was the charm of power!

He took a drag on his cigar, enjoying the rich change of flavors in his mouth. More nicotine was quickly absorbed through the oral mucosa, entering his brain and becoming a source of pleasure.

"This world can belong to politicians, it can belong to capitalists, but it will never belong to gangsters."

"We are inherently flawed, so we have to hide in the sewers, while those people can stand on the ground."

"Potter has basically locked in his victory. This means that among the many troublesome things mentioned in his campaign, the easiest one to solve is this 'de-gangsterization' policy."

"Compared to touching the interests of capitalists, or the interests of political groups, gangsters are the easiest dough to knead."

"Next, the crackdown on gangs in various states will be rolled out quickly, and it will be a long-term job. However arrogant these gangs are now, that's how pathetic they will soon be."

Melo stood behind him, listening to his words, a trace of worry appearing on his face. "Will we be cracked down on too?"

Lance nodded. "The Liberal Party certainly won't sit by and watch us keep giving blood transfusions to the Socialist Party. They will definitely find ways to make trouble for us."

"But, Melo , we are not a gang in the purest sense. Although we do some illegal things—killing, making and selling liquor—we don't do other bad things, and we don't go after ordinary people."

"If they think these behaviors can be exploited, just let them come and find evidence."

"Without evidence, no one can send me to the defendant's stand!"

"As long as I don't go on trial, the Lance Family will always exist."

"But those other people... not necessarily."

Lance was considering something. He had to find a way to get that guy, Director Roland , out of office, and replace him with his own person.

It was a bold idea, but not impossible.

Right now, two Senior Agent Supervisors in the FBI had already come over to his side. Who's to say more wouldn't?

And if Director Roland was taken down due to scandal, then Congress would have a way to nominate a new FBI Director, instead of one being appointed by Mr. Potter .

As long as the new FBI Director wasn't still dead-set on staring at him, the problem wouldn't be big.

He could use these Senior Agent Supervisors to usurp part of the director's power and make them work for him. For example, dealing with this Rota State gang.

The president always has to make some achievements after taking office. They could just sacrifice this Rota State gang.

Of course, he wouldn't tell Melo these things. Not that he didn't trust him, but mainly because Melo was too far removed from these matters. Telling him would only add to his worries.

Time quickly pointed to the start of the event. Lance also tidied his attire and left the office with his men, heading for the conference room.

Outside the conference room, he saw the leaders of the other Four Families. They had already gathered.

"Shall we go in together?" Lance suggested, which was why they were gathered here.

After some courteous deferring, they entered the main hall. The hall, which had been a bit noisy, instantly fell silent.

After some more deferring, Lance sat at the very edge of the table.

It wasn't that he couldn't sit in the middle, it was just unnecessary.

Kevin, as the oldest leader of the Four Families, naturally gave a speech, and then the official "discussions" began.

Lance had thought this would be a relatively serious occasion, but in reality, it was a bit chaotic from the start.

There's always friction between gangs, especially now that liquor profits are so huge. Every gang wants to occupy more of the market.

They have a lot of territory and interests in their own cities, but no gang is satisfied with what they have. They want more.

Wanting more means expanding outward. And the surrounding cities are clearly the territory of other gangs. There will inevitably be some friction.

Some are more aggressive; they directly plant their people in other cities. The friction between these gangs is more direct and escalates quickly.

There are also some milder ones. They secretly smuggle liquor into other cities, hitting the market with lower prices to make a quick buck.

But whether aggressive or mild, the end result is the same: conflicts arise between the gangs of two or more cities, and they develop to the point of a firefight.

After Kevin's speech, these people started arguing endlessly about these things, which made Lance look down on them even more.

The Four Families, however, were very skilled and began to mediate. They would make certain judgments based on what these people said, for example, demanding some people pull back, or that some people share a portion of their profits with those they were in conflict with.

In the words of the Four Families, there were plenty of profits to go around, no need to beat each other's brains out for it. It was mainly about smoothing things over.

It wasn't that they didn't want to manage things more meticulously, but they didn't have the ability.

For these unruly gangs, if what you say benefits me, I'll listen. If what you say doesn't benefit me, I'll pretend I didn't hear. The Four Families was just an "honor," not a "power"!

Watching them solve people's problems here, Lance actually found it quite interesting. They had never been in contact with real power, but they used their imagination of power to create an illusion that they possessed it.

"Finding it a bit noisy?" Mr. Clark , sitting next to Lance , struck up a conversation.

Lance shook his head. "No, I just find it laughable."

He didn't deliberately lower his voice, just said it plainly. The first to quiet down were those sitting near him, and then more and more people began to quiet down for some reason.

Mr. Clark also looked on with a surprised expression, as if... he couldn't understand the purpose of him saying this.

"I don't know..." Mr. Clark shook his head. "Could you elaborate?"

The room was quiet now. The huge conference room, and the people sitting around the huge table, all had their eyes focused on Lance .

Lance crossed his legs, looking very calm and composed. He didn't show any fear just because so many vicious guys were staring at him.

It was as if he didn't know what pressure was.

"I said, I find what you are doing, this noisy content, very laughable."

A guy in his forties, wearing a floral shirt, immediately stood up. "On what grounds do you say what we're doing is laughable?"

"Because you're richer than us?"

"Or is it because you know more high-level big shots, so you think we're laughable?"

The other gang bosses also chimed in to support him. They also felt Lance's attitude was... making them uncomfortable.

Lance wagged his finger twice, then put his hand back on his lap. "I'm not laughing at you. I'm just expressing my attitude, my opinion. You are laughable."

"Don't be unconvinced," he pointed at the man in the floral shirt.

"What are you arguing about?"

He pointed to a few of the loudest ones. "You say they invaded your territory, making you lose twenty to thirty percent of your income for the year."

"You say that guy across from you is smuggling liquor into your territory and beat your men."

"You're almost all arguing about this stuff. Who stole whose territory, who stole whose business, and then making endless noise."

"This is what you think is so important?"

"But what's the reality?"

Lance's fingers tapped on the table twice. The sound wasn't particularly loud, but with the vibration of the whole wooden table, even those at the other end could hear the tapping, and feel that slight, yet heavy, vibration.

"Potter is talking non-stop about 'de-gangsterization' in his campaign. In his polls, more than half the public is interested in this topic."

"What does that represent?"

"It represents that when Potter takes office and is sworn in as president, his first act will be to increase the comprehensive crackdown on criminal groups. At that time, what you'll need to consider isn't who stole whose territory or business, but how to continue to exist in this huge social change!"

The room was very quiet. There was only the sound of smoking, and occasionally the click of a lighter. People's expressions gradually became grave.

Lance spread his hands. "See, this is the real big issue. It's about your life and death. Not 'you stole my territory, I stole your business, who beat whose men'."

"It's not about being immersed in your seemingly calm, but actually turbulent, false prosperity!"

"You need to wake up, and face the worst-case scenario!"

Mr. Clark couldn't help it. He spoke up, "The federal government has said more than once that they want to restrict our activities, but so far, they still haven't achieved any real results."

"The cities are still in our hands. They control the day, and we control the night!"

These words boosted morale. Someone immediately stood up, cheered, and supported Mr. Clark's view.

Lance , however, shook his head. "In the past, when those people talked about dealing with gangs, it was just a little trick to cope with the public and fool opinion. But this time is different."

Mr. Kevin, sitting in the center, licked his somewhat dry lips. "What's different this time?"

Lance glanced at him. "This time, 'de-gangsterization' is a campaign promise. It's a promise he has to deliver to the public."

Mr. Kevin nodded, not denying it. "Every president promises many things, but most of them they can't deliver. I don't think he can eradicate all the gangs in the Federation."

Some agreed, others were thinking.

"You said it yourself, most things can't be delivered. But there are always things that can."

"Between dealing with capitalists, dealing with politicians, and dealing with gangs and low-level law enforcement... if you were president, which would you choose?"

One simple question, and Mr. Kevin, Mr. Clark , and the other gang bosses who had some brains all fell silent.

Any president will seek re-election. And the basis for re-election is having an approval rating that still leads other candidates in the mid-term elections.

If a president can't do anything in his first four years, then he simply won't get a second chance.

If you look at the presidents who got a second chance, they will, in their first term, do their best to complete some "vanity projects" to gain continuous public support.

Compared to touching the capitalists' cake, or the politicians' interests, the connection between gangs and low-level law enforcement is, on the contrary, the easiest.

"So, I think you're laughable. A matter of your life and death is not far away. The election is in just over a month."

"And you're here discussing these boring things. Isn't that laughable?"

Mr. Kevin coughed twice. "Lance , do you have any good solutions?"

Lance shook his head. "I don't have any good solutions. To be honest, I don't even know how the federal government can lose!"

"Every gang here... you all have too many criminal records, witnesses, testimonies, and evidence. It's just that in the past, you might have gotten along well with the local dignitaries."

"They wouldn't go so far as to use these things that could kill you, to take you out. Or maybe you just fed them well."

"But it's different now. If they don't stick the knife into your bodies, Mr. President will stick the knife into their bodies."

"This is a disturbing future, and there's no good solution."

"So, everyone discussing this is a bit more meaningful than discussing who hit whom, don't you think?"

Under Lance's "guidance," the discussion soon began to revolve around "de-gangsterization."

It has to be said, these gang bosses or representatives did have a few things to say. Someone actually proposed organizing a large-scale, all-Federation gang march to protest the government's encirclement.

Someone else said to destroy the ballot boxes, so Mr. Potter couldn't get enough votes to win, causing the election results to repeatedly fail.

There were always some who could make astonishing remarks. Someone else suggested everyone go on strike. That way, no one in the city would sell liquor, and all the drunks would blame Mr. Potter , and then they wouldn't vote for him.

They discussed for over an hour, but couldn't come to any conclusion. Of course, with their abilities and level, it was impossible for them to come to any conclusion.

The gang council needed two or three days; it couldn't be solved in one afternoon.

After a short break, they temporarily shelved this issue and began to talk about their own money-making experiences.

Listening to these people show off their low-tech criminal businesses, Lance felt increasingly bored and uninterested.

The meeting lasted until past five in the evening, and this was just the first day. Lance sometimes wondered what on earth they could talk about to fill two or three consecutive days.

He had originally planned to go chat with Mayor Williams tonight. Mayor Williams's health had been getting worse recently. He had called Lance , planning to retire two years early and let James take over his job.

But this matter required Lance's approval. Only then would James have a chance to become the next mayor. So he hoped Lance could come by when he had time.

But Mr. Clark stopped Lance , wanting to sit down and chat with him and the other Four Families.