Chapitre 14: Chapter 14 The Birth Of A New Order
"Where is Graf?" Mr. Krian wiped the sweat from his brow, frustration evident. A long line of goods awaited unloading, but Graf, who could handle the work of several men on his own, had once again managed to vanish, leaving Krian seething. The railways and steam engines weren't owned by the Empire—they were privately constructed by companies to serve their own interests. As such, each station operated under corporate ownership, and this one belonged to Mr. Krian.
History has consistently shown that capitalists aren't benevolent, a fact that hardly needed proving. Any gestures of kindness towards laborers were purely for show, their real goal being to extract the maximum amount of labor. To them, each worker had a specific value, representing their role in production and the extent to which they could be exploited.
Graf, while not an ideal worker, was an excellent candidate for exploitation. Despite his many shortcomings, Mr. Krian tended to overlook them because the value Graf produced far outweighed the trouble he caused.
However, all of this relied on one crucial factor—Graf had to be present to be exploited. Without that, he was worthless.
"Has anyone seen where that man went?" Mr. Krian bellowed, tugging at his collar. Word had already come in from the previous station that another train would arrive in less than an hour, and there were piles of goods that needed to be unloaded and reloaded. Several of the workers were already exhausted from the intense labor, and with Graf missing, productivity had dropped significantly.
As Mr. Krian continued his search throughout the station, it became apparent that Graf was nowhere to be found. Frustrated beyond measure, Krian publicly announced that Graf would face penalties according to the terms of his contract.
The punishment would likely be a deduction in wages, maybe even a fine.
Contracts like these, tied to time-sensitive work, were always strict to ensure workers didn't slack off or go missing.
Clearly, Graf had broken the contract.
But did he care?
Not in the least!
Compared to toiling away like a beast of burden at the station, selling high proof fruit liquor on the black market was far more lucrative and quicker to boot.
"We can't do this alone. We need a solid team to help with these things," Julian shared his thoughts with Graf, his tone serious. "What we're doing isn't exactly by the book. We need a front, a way to escape if things go south, and a team capable of handling the risks."
For the past two days, Julian had been mulling over how to expand and fortify the operation. After his previous business failure, he had become more cautious and had begun to understand the lessons his dreams had been trying to teach him.
Anyone who wanted to rise to success couldn't do it alone. Competition was fierce, regardless of the era or society. In this type of environment, gathering a strong group with aligned interests was essential to safeguarding one's core profits. He thought back to his old car wash. If he had someone like Graf by his side back then—or perhaps three or four others—would that brute, "Mad Dog Wesson," have dared to challenge him?
No, he wouldn't have.
That experience, which had affected his livelihood, gave Julian a newfound clarity about his future.
"My registered trading company could import low proof alcohol as a legitimate front. There's a market for that too. If we can figure out how to purify it, we could make a huge profit. We'll also need a group maybe ten to twenty people who are driven and willing to take risks. Sooner or later, others will try to push back."
Graf puffed out his chest at this, his muscular frame rippling in response. "Who exactly is going to come after us?"
Julian sighed inwardly. Who? It would, of course, be those established alcohol sellers and distilleries whose business we were disrupting. It's like dropping a stone into a full bucket—some water is bound to spill out.
The high-proof fruit liquor they were introducing would quickly gain favor with drinkers, causing them to abandon their old choices. It was as though they were taking market share from someone else. This wasn't above board business. From the moment he had conceived of this plan, Julian had known it was shady.
Just like in legitimate business, there was cutthroat competition in the black market. Above board businesses could use standard commercial methods to edge out weaker competitors, but how does one win in illicit dealings?
Through sheer force and underhanded tactics.
When you threaten someone's income, don't expect them to respond kindly. In the end, it always comes down to brute strength.
After explaining this at length, Graf finally slapped his forehead with a loud "whack" and said dismissively, "Why didn't you just say you wanted to form a gang?"
A gang?
Julian fell silent. When he had left the rural town, Mr. Kesma had hoped he would become a productive member of society. His mother dreamed of him being a successful man. His siblings wished for him to become someone they could look up to.
But no one ever imagined he would be part of a gang—let alone lead one.
At what point had his vision of wealth and success morphed into this idea of gang building, so far from his original aspirations?
Julian cast a glance at Graf, noting the massive difference between them physically. Maybe this was fate?
Julian said nothing, but Graf, growing more excited, burst into laughter. "I've always wanted to start a gang for the Guar people. We Guars are all warriors..." He glanced at Julian, giving him the same look Julian had given him earlier. "Of course, there are some exceptions. But once we're established, those damn Ogdins won't dare push us around anymore. I think it's a brilliant idea. Count me in!"
As one of the smaller minority groups in the Star Empire, the Guar people didn't have it easy. Many of their men had been conscripted during the war, leading to significant losses among their youth. With so many young men gone, the Guars became a vulnerable group, often bullied by the Ogdins. In Tenel City, most of the gangs were Ogdin run. Mad Dog Wesson, for instance, was a prime example.
L’AVIS DES CRÉATEURS 
DaasWolfe
DaasWolfe Hello, I hope this note finds you well.
I would like to apologize for the delay in release, as I am facing some issues right now and can barely keep up the other novel updat. Things will get better in the next week, and I will be able to provide more quality chapters, and I may even go back to rewrite the early chapters that were a bit messy.
I wish you a great time reading.
Greetings
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