Empire of Shadows

Recalling what happened during that time was certainly not an easy task for young Potter, and crucially, he couldn't recall anything at all!

"I... I don't know!" He held his head, eyes squeezed shut, desperately trying to remember the previous night.

After a long while, he shook his head, still drawing a blank. "I don't know."

"I don't remember. I think I had a dream where I tore something apart like a wild beast, but I can't recall anything else."

Young Potter's father glanced at him, then looked at his assistant. "Are any of his friends being watched?"

His assistant nodded. "Arrangements have been made."

As a member of a top political family, he knew that young Potter's friends were highly suspicious. However, keeping them locked up was pointless.

If one or more of them were responsible, they were likely already prepared for confrontation.

Interrogation was unlikely to yield results, and the most crucial task now was to suppress the scandal, not provoke a wider media frenzy.

Only after confirming their innocence would he ease his vigilance.

The surveillance team now had a new task: "Tell them to check if any of them are carrying knives or daggers. If they find any, bring them back."

As for how to retrieve those items, his assistant had ways, or rather, the men he hired to do the dirty work had ways.

The murder weapon being missing was a persistent problem, potentially a major one. He glanced again at young Potter, pointing at him with a rare intensity.

"You are not allowed to leave this villa until your grandfather is elected."

Young Potter knew he had caused huge trouble, so he dared not disobey, merely nodding in agreement.

The scene was quickly cleaned up. They hired professionals for the job. It took three or four hours for young Potter's father to erase all traces related to the murder.

He stood in the courtyard, sighing heavily. He looked around and lit a cigarette. "Is there anything we missed?"

His assistant shook his head. "I've handled everything I could think of. I can't guarantee there are absolutely no omissions, but even if there are, they won't be useful."

The assistant was a former criminal police officer who had supervised and investigated many criminal cases.

Due to a personal issue—police officers are human and experience anger and desire—he left the police force and joined the Potter family organization.

Based on his professional experience and skill, he believed the cleanup was meticulous.

Over the years, the Potter family had relied on him to manage numerous scenes, and he had never made a mistake, which was why young Potter's father trusted him.

Everything appeared flawless. Young Potter's father breathed a sigh of relief. "Let's go."

The group got into their cars, and the convoy slowly drove away from the villa, as if they had never been there.

In reality, they didn't know that everything had been recorded.

But this evidence wouldn't be released yet. Just as a simple truth holds little shock value, if that truth is backed by a powerful lie, the impact is immense.

Back home, young Potter's father contacted Mr. Potter, recounting the events at the villa.

"I think I should inform you about this. I've cleaned everything up, but whether we proceed with your candidacy still depends on your decision."

Young Potter's father was once called "Young Potter" himself, until his son was born.

In fact, Mr. Potter himself was once "Young Potter." It was merely a title, a label based on the surname, meaning nothing intrinsic.

Mr. Potter listened quietly to his son's account, feeling a headache coming on. "This is a critical time. The results will be out next week. If this incident is exposed now, it will definitely impact the vote."

The family factor held a special status in Federal society. If you couldn't manage your own family, people wouldn't trust you to manage thousands of unrelated families.

Furthermore, if young Potter had problems now, people would focus intensely on him. Mr. Potter knew that in such a situation, the media, public opinion, and his opponents' tactics would become extreme.

They would place young Potter under a microscope in the spotlight.

Even an ordinary person has flaws, let alone young Potter, who was born into privilege. His minor faults would be amplified, ultimately becoming evidence that Mr. Potter was a poor family manager, resulting in significant negative public opinion.

So, after a moment's thought, he and his son agreed. "Suppress this for now. Keep his friends under control, and deal with the victim's family."

"It's August soon. The election results will be out in three months. We'll deal with this after I'm sworn in as President."

"If it was just an accident—a common mistake made by young people who partied too hard—we'll find a way to compensate the family, and give that bastard a lesson."

"He needs to take responsibility as a member of the Potter family, instead of living aimlessly like those other scoundrels."

"But if it wasn't an accident, you must be prepared for the fact that we will lose him."

Young Potter's father showed no emotion at this. Although he only had one son, he had daughters, nephews, and siblings.

He wasn't Mr. Potter's only son, so losing one third-generation heir wouldn't significantly impact the family. Furthermore, he could easily have another child, or several.

As long as power, status, and wealth remained intact, one child or two children were irrelevant to them.

"Should we send him to the electric chair?" he asked.

Mr. Potter repeatedly said, "No." "Why would you think that?"

"We are his elders. He won't die, but he will go to jail. Twenty years, thirty years—I don't know, it depends on the judge. And I said that's only a 'possibility.'"

"The situation might not be that bad."

"Contact me immediately with any updates. And, look after your son. Don't let him cause any more trouble, understood?"

Young Potter's father nodded. "I understand."

He hung up, smoked for a moment, then took off his jacket, rolled up his sleeves, unbuttoned his collar, pulled a whip from a drawer, and walked toward the room where young Potter was confined.

Mr. Potter's campaign was paramount. At such a critical juncture, this fool had caused massive trouble. While he could remain outwardly calm, his inner fury was erupting like a volcano!

Meanwhile, Lance placed a sharp, one-piece dagger inside a glass box. It was suspended by two thin strings and sealed to prevent the surface oil from oxidizing quickly.

Besides the dagger, he had copies of the photos taken inside the room: pictures of the deceased girl, and photos of young Potter, eyes red, riding on the girl, holding a weapon.

While the wounds might not have been caused entirely by him, the photos didn't lie.

In the Federation, criminal cases had three crucial standards for prosecution. The first was the body.

If there was a body, the police and prosecutor would initiate formal investigation. Without a body, it was a missing person case.

The two to three hundred thousand missing person cases annually in the Federation were often linked to horrifying speculation. Yet, because there were no bodies, and because of the Federal spirit of "liberty," many parents convinced themselves their children were still alive, simply pursuing their "free spirit."

During this period, many works of literature and film in the Federation expressed this sentiment. In these creations, young people who resisted the staid, old-fashioned status quo became idols for their peers.

Underground "exchange meetings" were emerging in many cities, particularly in economically developed, artistically liberal areas.

Young people gathered to express their dissatisfaction with the world and society. Small groups were forming.

They weren't gangs; they were simply young people with a free spirit and rebellious attitudes who resisted the mainstream.

Their existence subtly resolved social problems. At least, parents of missing children could tell themselves their children weren't dead; they had simply left to embrace a new life.

But with a body, it was murder, not a run-away case.

The second factor was motive.

Motive was a crucial element in the Federal judicial system. If a person had no clear reason to kill another, the case would often be dismissed.

For example, a wealthy man was once implicated in the deaths of several beggars. Witnesses claimed they saw the man interact with the beggars shortly before they were found shot dead outside the city.

The wealthy man hired excellent lawyers. The lawyers simply asked the jury and the judge a question: what reason would a respectable man of high social status, influence, and charitable repute have to kill a group of beggars?

He had no motive to do so.

When one person kills another, there must be a motive: money, conflict, or emotion.

But a kind, wealthy man had no reason to kill beggars. The judge and jury agreed that the lawyers' defense was sound, and the wealthy man was acquitted.

Whether he actually did it was irrelevant; the law did not support the accusation.

The third factor was the murder weapon.

In court, the object used by the suspect to kill the victim was paramount.

While not as critical as the first two factors, a weapon carrying the suspect's fingerprints and the victim's blood provided powerful, potentially decisive evidence.

The single-piece dagger Lance held carried the girl's blood and young Potter's fingerprints, which could be fully recovered with current technology.

Now, with a body, a motive would quickly be established, and with the murder weapon, Senator Cleveland's faction could leverage their influence to ensure the judicial process remained fair.

As long as the judicial process wasn't corrupted, young Potter would certainly be arrested. At that point, Mr. Potter would be put in a very passive position.

Executing this plan wasn't difficult, but they needed to wait.

Even if Senator Cleveland hadn't told him, Lance knew they had to wait until the Liberal Party's list of nominees was official and Mr. Potter was formally nominated.

Once the election process began—political campaigns, investment, and speculation—the entire Federal political landscape would be like three high-speed cars without brakes, forced to move forward.

If problems arose now, the cars could still stop, and parts could be replaced. But that wasn't what Senator Cleveland wanted.

Only when the cars couldn't stop would the exposure of the scandal have maximum impact.

If they waited until the cars were unstoppable, then revealing these issues would force them to desperately suppress the scandal.

Otherwise, the vital parts of the cars would be damaged, leading to a catastrophic crash!

To protect the safety of the cars and the passengers, they would collude to suppress the matter fiercely!

By suppressing the scandal and keeping the cars racing down the election road, the exposure of the case later would cause an even greater reaction!

Everyone involved—everyone in the metaphorical car—would face public scrutiny and condemnation because they were all privy to the facts and actively helped the President cover up the crime instead of solving it.

This would be a hugely powerful "bomb." If handled correctly, even if Mr. Potter became "President Potter," the scandal could easily derail him.

It was a strategic weapon.

And now, the switch to this strategic weapon was in the hands of Lance and Senator Cleveland.

Meanwhile, in a dilapidated, abandoned factory in the old city district, several bodyguards, dressed in dark clothes that blended into the surroundings, stood in the messy corners, watching the roads leading into the factory.

Old City was large. If not for geographic and industrial migration factors, its development would be even better.

It was still doing well now.

People's standards for the environment were rising. Heavy polluting industries and chemical plants had long since moved out of Old City, leaving behind many of these industrial ruins.

The cost and value of repurposing these sites often exceeded the land's actual price, so few people were willing to take them over.

Especially sites with a history of heavy pollution. Who knew if digging new foundations would unearth buried contaminants, leading to more trouble and expense?

So, no one touched them. These places gradually became abandoned, with almost no foot traffic.

The Perez family had a warehouse located here.

The warehouse concealed a small factory underneath, where they extracted substances from Maple Herb to make their most important product.

The cultivation, transport, sale, and use of Maple Herb were strictly regulated. Federal law prohibited cultivation, transport, and extraction on this scale.

Thus, it was an illegal business, and finding a secluded, reliable location for it was necessary.

Several armed guards returned to the guard room from patrol. The supervisor in the guard room frowned. "Shift change isn't for another twenty minutes. You should be outside, not sitting here!"

He tapped the table, clearly annoyed. The ongoing war between the Perez family and the Lance family made everyone tense. The family had explicitly ordered strict patrols and security to ensure the facility wasn't found or destroyed by the Lance family.

Perhaps life had been too comfortable for too long. They had maintained discipline before, but lately, they had grown restless.

The high temperature and direct sunlight were indeed hard to bear.

The guards shirked responsibility. There were still many guards outside, and a few missing wouldn't hurt.

These men were direct relatives of the Perez family, though not of the main lineage, yet they held a unique status among the low-level gang members.

It was like a large corporation: if a low-level employee was related to the CEO, his superior found it difficult to treat him equally.

The supervisor gave up trying to reprimand them when he realized his words had no effect.

As the guards claimed, there were plenty of eyes outside; nothing bad would happen.

The warehouse and factory were highly secluded. Even the guards only knew there was a warehouse, not the factory beneath it.

The sky gradually darkened. The daytime heat subsided. The guards who returned from patrol sat together, looking forward to dinner...

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!