Chapter 1103: Refusal of Local War and Skewed Alignment

In Bob's opinion, pursuing an organ donor for Fran at this time was somewhat misplaced priority.

The family was facing an unprecedented challenge; the focus should rightly be on the family's defense, not on improving Fran's quality of life.

However, Bob couldn't truly fault Fran. After all, he wasn't the one lying on the hospital bed, experiencing the sensation of suffocating with every breath. Naturally, he wouldn't share Fran's desperate clinginess to life and fear of death.

But this task had to be done. It was Fran's explicit request, and not complying would be detrimental.

The moment Fran decided to return to the family, Bob, who was just tasting the sweetness of supreme power, would have to hand over control.

It wasn't that he was greedy for power, but Fran's physical state simply couldn't handle the responsibilities of the family patriarch.

Bob was, as everyone knew, a man of responsibility.

The convoy drove down the street, secured by three cars both ahead and behind, with armed guards providing additional coverage, giving Bob a strong sense of safety.

He looked at the somewhat desolate streets. Just two or three days of fighting had significantly reduced the number of pedestrians in Old City.

Gunfights inevitably led to collateral damage. To avoid being wounded or killed in matters that didn't concern them, city residents were staying indoors as much as possible.

Before he left, the Mayor had already spoken with him, urging him to resolve the situation quickly. Whether by negotiating peace with the Lance family or engaging in a decisive battle, the conflict needed to end soon, not be prolonged.

The economic dividend from the war victory was still at its peak. Other cities were developing rapidly. If Old City stalled, its standing within Gold State would steadily drop.

This was unacceptable to the Mayor. The Mayor also informed him that the Governor was watching the situation. If they dragged the war out for too long, the government would intervene.

Staring blankly out the window until the view transitioned from buildings to dense foliage, he finally snapped back to reality. He was back at the estate.

Under his command, the Perez family had implemented a "contraction strategy." Everyone gathered on their own territory, consolidating their strength and avoiding dispersal, thus preventing the Lance family from having any opportunity for isolated attacks.

This strategy had already proven effective. The next step was considering how to launch a counter-attack.

Back in the familiar room, as Bob walked in, everyone, whether sitting or standing, immediately stood up, adjusting their clothes and focusing their attention on Bob.

He raised his hand slightly in acknowledgment, then walked to the empty sofa and sat down.

He used to be one of them, but now, he operated on a different, higher level.

"Fran's condition is not good. He had half a lung removed. He can barely do physical labor, and even walking is difficult."

"He requires twenty-four-hour oxygen and a wheelchair. Given the potential for sudden complications, he will remain in the hospital until he fully recovers."

"I spoke with him, and he agreed that I should preside over the family's affairs during his convalescence."

Bob paused here, looking at the handful of people who were clearly opposed to him, including Fran's eldest son.

Fran's relationship with his eldest son was poor.

A man obsessed with power, who lived constantly in the glory he created, was emotionally distant from his family from a young age.

This led to poor relationships with all his children.

He even suspected his children might try to harm him to seize power. It could be argued that Fran was sometimes paranoid, or perhaps simply too clever.

Despite this, Fran's children still considered themselves the "family heirs." The eldest son, a senior direct-lineage cadre, still participated in family discussions and decisions.

He was deeply unhappy about Bob bypassing him to take control.

However, he also knew this was likely what Fran wanted.

If he, Fran's eldest son, were in charge, Fran's eventual return would be questionable.

But with Bob in charge, Fran was certain to return, as both Bob and Fran's son needed Fran alive, albeit uninvolved in family affairs.

During this speech, the dissenting voices, upon meeting Bob's gaze, immediately looked away, showing neither compliance nor the resistance they displayed two days ago.

Bob was satisfied with this. He tapped the sofa armrest. "Our strategy has yielded good results over the past two days; they've clearly backed off. Now, we need to discuss how to counter-attack."

He gave them time to think. "We can't remain passive forever, and we face a tricky issue."

"The Lance family's core business is not in Gold State; it's not even in the Federal central region. Their core business is in the Federal South, in Likalai State."

"This reminds me of the war that just ended. The Federation fought a war outside its borders, and regardless of the brutality of the fighting, it never affected the people and affairs of the Federal mainland."

"Outside those battlefields, life went on normally for Federal citizens, just as we face now."

"The war is happening on our soil!" He clenched his fist, knocking the wooden sofa armrest with his knuckles, creating a heavy thud.

"Whether we win or lose, the damage will be done to our territory. The Mayor already called me about this."

"And since yesterday, we've noticed that the Lance family attackers have vanished."

"Someone in this city is on their side, helping them hide. We'll deal with that later."

"My thought now is: since he can attack us, why can't we attack them?"

The men in the room watched Bob with serious expressions. Bob always played this role well: finding ways to frame things that Fran enjoyed hearing, while still being useful and effective.

This was likely why Fran valued him: capable and complimentary. No ruler would pass up such a person.

Bob looked around the room, meeting and dismissing each man's gaze. "We need to attack their territory. We need to shift the losses to their turf!"

"The Lance family's businesses are concentrated in Golden Port City and the Lawrence Farm."

"The situation in Golden Port City is complex. They have a very reliable intelligence network, and it would be difficult for us to enter in large numbers."

"Too few men, and we'd be ineffective."

"Too many men, and they'd notice us before we could even move."

"Attacking Golden Port City is not a good option. Therefore, my idea is the Lawrence Farm."

He had his chief lieutenant pass out identical materials to the senior cadres.

"The Lawrence Farm houses the Lance family's most core business: the distillery. We all know their two biggest income sources."

"The casino and the distillery."

"The casino involves complex issues we shouldn't touch, but the distillery is simpler."

"My plan is for a team to take a back road, head straight for the Lawrence Farm, attack the distillery, and cut off their liquor production."

"That would be a massive blow to Lance and the Lance family!"

"Discuss this," he instructed, lighting a cigarette and asking someone to pour him a drink. The men in the room began seriously discussing the feasibility of the plan.

Bob, at times, had clever ideas. If they could successfully attack the Lawrence Farm, it would certainly cause Lance immense trouble, as liquor was now the Lance family's primary source of income.

However, his cleverness was limited; he underestimated the security of the Lawrence Farm.

Lance located the distillery on the farm, away from Golden Port City, because the farm was inherently safer than any location in or around the city.

But in Bob's mind, Lance chose the farm simply because it was more secluded.

A distillery in the city or suburbs would be a massive target.

He had visited the northern distilleries once for business. Even three to five hundred meters away, he could smell the fermented mash and the huge plumes of steam during distillation.

While less noticeable in summer or windy weather, it was impossible to conceal in winter.

The farm, being far from the city and even the main roads, would not affect people in summer or winter.

As for whether Lance had a large number of people stationed at the farm, Bob was certain he did, but he wasn't afraid. Gang warfare wasn't child's play; it was a real gunfight.

The men discussed the plan for a long time, with virtually no objections. They strongly favored the idea of fighting away from their "home turf."

Seeing the unanimous agreement, Bob nodded. "Excellent. Besides this, the Lance family has occupied some of our businesses. Next, we must reclaim those properties."

"Gentlemen, every day they occupy those properties is a slap in the face to us, in front of all of Old City, Gold State, and even the entire Federation!"

"I want all of you to mobilize your forces, counter-attack with absolute force, eliminate them, and take back those businesses!"

He clenched his fist and swung it slightly, lending immense force to his words.

Everyone agreed. Their territory had been stolen; they had to take it back. That was the code of conduct in the underworld.

"Very good. If there are no objections, I will assign the tasks now..."

He divided the men into two groups. One group would head to the Lawrence Farm to commit arson and destroy the distillery and the farm, forcing Lance's forces to retreat and focus on defense.

The second group would launch a counter-attack on the Lance family members within Old City, reclaiming the occupied businesses.

The next few days, or maybe one or two weeks, would certainly be bloody.

But this was necessary. Once these two goals were achieved, they would move on Golden Port City and eliminate the Lance family from the Federal map entirely!

Bob wanted Lance and his people to realize that not all gangs were the same.

While Bob was meticulously planning his strategy against Lance and the Lance family, Lance was not idle.

He was driving toward the New Golden City. He needed to return to the "rear base" to command operations, but before that, he had to secure Likalai State.

The three old men (at the farm) knew the gang war between the Lance and Perez family was escalating and had proactively offered their help, which Lance declined.

Lance instructed them only to guard the entire farm and ensure no one found an opportunity to exploit them.

It was now late July or early August, not long until the harvest.

Protecting the farm was critical now. The three old men assured him they could guarantee the farm's safety.

As for Golden Port City, the security was even tighter. Bolton's "defense network" was still active and had gradually expanded to the surrounding cities, forming an intelligence network covering most of Likalai State.

It was virtually impossible to enter these cities undetected. Furthermore, although a large number of men were mobilized to leave, they still had sufficient manpower here.

Beyond the Lance family, all gangs in Likalai State were under the Lance family's control. Whether they liked it or not, if Lance called, they had to provide men and resources.

If they refused, they would see what a "meat grinder battlefield" truly was!

Over the next few days, the gunfights in Old City intensified. The Perez family launched attacks to reclaim the stolen businesses, and the fighting was fierce.

Gunshots were often heard even during the day.

Bob stood by the window, watching the distant silhouette of the city, a cigar between his fingers. His large gold ring on his index finger reflected a golden halo against the glass.

He watched for a while, his brow furrowed. The counter-attack over the last few days had not yielded the results he expected, and his mood was souring.

The sky was dark and overcast; heavy rain could break out at any time.

Summer was like that; the weather was always unpredictable.

It had been sunny that morning, but by the afternoon, the sky had turned grim. Now, it was dark.

The office door was suddenly shoved open with a bang. He turned to see a senior direct-lineage cadre—his cousin—walk in.

"What's wrong?" He looked at his cousin. In his opinion, his cousin's ability was reliable.

After all, in such a large family, rising to the level of senior direct-lineage cadre wasn't determined by blood ties alone.

Fran, apart from being somewhat subjective in his personal affairs, was generally very capable in family matters.

He wouldn't let an incompetent fool hold an important position; otherwise, the Perez family would have been composed solely of direct-lineage members long ago.

"Those police officers, Bob! Are they all on the take?" His cousin, with his short blond hair, sat down, slamming the coffee table.

"Those sons of bitches! F***!"

"My men moved, and immediately the police came and arrested them all, do you hear me?"

"I heard the same thing happened to others. The moment the gunfight heats up, the police show up and start arresting people."

"They are definitely working with the Lance family! That son of a bitch forgot who owns this city!"

The "son of a bitch" he referred to was obviously Hull, the Police Director.

Only he would have the power to make the police act this way.

This wasn't the first time Bob had heard this, but he frowned. "I've called Hull. He said the fire fights were too intense, and people were calling the police. He couldn't ignore it."

"He said those men will be released in a few days."

His cousin's voice grew louder. "And then what?"

"Then we attack again, and he arrests us again?"

"Bob, that son of a bitch is absolutely collaborating with the Lance family. We have to take him out!"

"He's disrupting our revenge!"

Bob didn't answer immediately, instead contemplating the consequences of such an action.

Would eliminating the Police Director during a gunfight trigger a chain reaction?

Seeing Bob's silence, his cousin grew agitated. "What are you afraid of?"

"We eliminate him and claim the Lance family did it. After all, the public thinks he's on our side."

"I'm sure people will believe it!"

Bob's eyes lit up. This was actually a good plan.

He thought for a moment. "I'll contact Hull. I'll ask him to come over, and then I'll arrange for someone to eliminate him on the way back."

"We need to show people our anger through some action!"

"That's a good suggestion."

Perhaps relieved that the damned Police Chief was finally getting what was coming to him, the cousin's mood stabilized. He lit a cigarette. "How are the brothers in Likalai State doing?"

Bob glanced at his watch. "They should be arriving there in the next day or two. No specific news has come back yet..."