The Mafia Empire
Chapter 14: Chapter 14 The Birth Of A New Order

"Where's Graf?" Mr. Kreen was sweating profusely, surrounded by loads of cargo waiting to be moved. Once again, Graf, who could do the work of five men, had vanished, leaving Mr. Kreen seething. The railroad and steam engines were not public property of the Empire but were built and owned by powerful financial groups for their own needs. In other words, the station was a private company, and Mr.

Kreen was the owner.

History had proven that no capitalist was ever truly benevolent. Their friendliness toward workers was nothing but a performance, a means to exploit them more efficiently. To capitalists, every worker had a precise value that represented how much they contributed physically and how much they could be exploited.

Graf wasn't a good worker, but he was an excellent target for exploitation. Despite his many flaws, Mr. Kreen wouldn't make things too difficult for him because Graf's output far outweighed the trouble and losses caused by his absences.

But all of this depended on one thing: Graf had to be present to get exploited. Without this, Graf was worthless.

"Has anyone seen that guy?" Mr. Kreen roared, ripping open his collar. Another train would arrive in an hour, requiring a massive load of goods to be unloaded and transferred. Several workers were already exhausted, and without Graf, efficiency had dropped by over ten percent.

As Kreen searched the station, his frustration mounting, he finally shouted in front of the workers that Graf would be penalized according to the contract.

It was nothing more than a wage deduction and perhaps a fine.

Jobs with strict deadlines often had harsher contractual clauses to prevent workers from slacking off or skipping work.

Clearly, Graf had breached the contract.

But did Graf care?

He didn't care at all!

Compared to toiling at the station, selling high-proof fruit liquor privately was far more profitable and faster.

"We can't keep working alone; we need a proper team to help us with this," Julian explained, imparting his thoughts to Graf. "After all, our business isn't exactly legal. We need to disguise ourselves, ensure we have enough protection for when things go south, and manage the risks."

Over the past two days, Julian had been constantly thinking about how to grow the business. After experiencing the failure of his first venture, he had become more cautious and had gained a deeper understanding of what he had seen in his dreams.

No one can succeed alone. Competition is fierce, in any society and at any time. In such an environment, the only way to protect one's core interests is by gathering more vested parties. It was like that incident with the car wash—if Julian had had Graf and maybe three or five others by his side, would that thug, Mad Dog Wilson, have dared to mess with him?

No, he wouldn't have!

Having experienced something that had affected him personally, Julian now had a clearer sense of the direction his future needed to take.

"The trading company I registered can import some low-proof liquor as a cover. Low-proof liquor also has a huge market, and if we can figure out how to refine it, it will be a goldmine. We'll also need about ten to twenty people, individuals with the ambition and courage to pursue dreams. We might be facing some competition sooner than you think."

Graf immediately puffed out his chest, "Who? Who's coming for us?"

Julian sighed, his head aching. Who? Of course, it would be the high-proof liquor merchants and distilleries whose profits were being threatened. Introducing a new high-proof fruit liquor to the market, one that attracted drinkers, meant people would abandon their previous choices. This was no different from taking someone's market share.

It wasn't legitimate business; Julian had known from the start that this was a shady operation.

Shady businesses, like legitimate ones, were still subject to brutal competition. In the world of legitimate business, market competition could be managed through business tactics. But in the shadows, competition was often settled with violence and dirty tricks.

If you destroy someone's livelihood, don't expect them to smile and speak kindly to you—it'll come down to fists.

After a long explanation, Graf slapped his forehead with a loud thwack, a look of exasperation on his face. "Why didn't you just say you want to start a gang?"

Start… a gang?

Julian fell silent. When he left the countryside, Mr. Kesma had hoped he would become a productive member of society. His mother wanted him to be successful, and his siblings wanted him to be a role model.

No one had ever hoped he would become a gangster, let alone a gang leader.

When had his grand dreams of wealth become twisted into something so far from his original aspirations?

Julian glanced at Graf, considered the physical disparity between them, and sighed. Maybe it was fate.

Julian said nothing, but Graf became even more excited, laughing aloud. "I've always wanted to start a Guar gang! We Guars are all strong and brave warriors..." He glanced at Julian with the same look Julian had just given him and added, "Well, most of us, at least… haha! Once our gang is up and running, those damned Ordinian people won't dare to bully us anymore. It's a great idea, and I'm with you!"

As one of the Empire's minority groups, the Guars lived in less-than-ideal conditions. During the war, the government had conscripted many Guars, and their numbers had been severely reduced, leaving their communities weakened. This made them a frequent target for bullying, especially by the Ordinian people.

In Ternell, most of the gangs were controlled by Ordinians, like Mad Dog Wilson, who was a prime example.

Julian pondered for a moment before raising his head. "I don't think we need a gang. What we need is an organization—something for the Guars, like a… a Fellowship association!"