"Families of missing children?" Officer Brayden frowned. "So youâre planning toâ¦?"
"Give them a child," Lance replied, "healthy, handsome, polite, and willing to pay them $200. Of course, theyâd need to keep their mouths shut about the arrangement."
Lance didnât hide his intentions, as he needed Braydenâs help to execute the plan.
Braydenâs eyes lit up. "Thatâs quite the unique business. You shouldnât share ideas like that so freely."
Lance leaned forward slightly. "Consider it a gesture of goodwill, Officer Brayden. I believe the profits from our future collaborations will far exceed this."
He shrugged, feigning indifference.
Brayden, however, was clearly intrigued. "Iâll keep an eye out. Plenty of kids have gone missing in Jingang City over the years. Matching ages shouldnât be too hard either. I have to admit, youâre opening up a whole new market!"
He pocketed the envelope. "Tomorrow, same time, same placeâIâll have an answer for you!"
With that, he drained his coffee, whistling as he walked past the counter. "The kidâs paying for this," he called out.
Brayden and his partner exited the restaurant and got into their patrol car. As they drove off, Brayden filled his partner in on the plan.
His partner perked up. "How much money could we make from this?"
Brayden lit a cigarette, his eyes on the rearview mirror. "Not sure yet. It depends on how much he can negotiate with others, but we can set a baseline."
"You know what Jingang City has in abundance?" Braydenâs voice trembled with excitement, as if heâd stumbled upon a gold mine.
Before his partner could answer, Brayden floored the gas pedal and exclaimed, "Illegal immigrants! Weâve hit the jackpot!"
Lance watched the police car speed away, shaking his head as he returned to his coffee and waffle.
The waffle was a chaotic blend of flavors: maple syrup, fruit jam, chocolate shavings, and powdered sugarâa typical Federation-style overload of sweetness. Paired with unsweetened coffee, it was slightly more palatable, but still overwhelmingly rich.
Lance only managed to eat about a third before giving up, feeling as if his teeth were screaming in protest.
When he went to pay, the shockingly low price made him doubt if the bill had been calculated correctly. The owner only charged him a dollar: 35 cents for two coffees and 65 cents for a waffle and a burger.
"Mr. Anderson should see these prices," Lance thought wryly. "Heâs the real thief around here."
He was confident Brayden would take this matter seriously. The potential business seemed enormous, and Brayden wouldnât want Lance sharing this lucrative opportunity with anyone else.
But in reality, the business wasnât as promising as it appeared.
How many illegal immigrants in Jingang City could save up hundreds of dollars?
People like Elvin, who worked on the docks, barely saved three to five dollars a month despite extreme frugality. Even at the high end of savings, theyâd need five years to accumulate $300. Ð ðð½Ã´BÄÅ
While some exceptional cases existed, they were rareâmaybe one in a thousand. This venture was more akin to selling real estate to the homeless. If they could afford homes, they wouldnât be homeless.
---
Saturday morning was a day for gatherings outside St. Nayaâs Cathedral.
Lance arrived punctually, greeting a few adults before heading to the side area where the younger crowd gathered.
The teenagers greeted him warmly.
To them, $5 was a significant amount. At Fat Bossâs place, a meal cost just 20 cents. At Mr. Andersonâs restaurant, meals ranged from $20 to $30, sometimes moreâan unattainable luxury.
With $5, these kids could splurge and have fun for days. Their recent upscale dining experience, complete with free $2 meals, left them with nothing but admiration for Lance.
Even Gerald was thrilled. The teenagersâ fondness for Lance elevated his own standing.
Of course, not everyone was kindhearted.
"Hey, Lance, Iâm curious," one of the teens asked with a sly grin, "how much did you make from this gig?"
Greed and jealousy are human nature. Someone had calculated that Lance had spent over $100 on them in just one day. Surely, he must have earned much more to afford such generosity.
The buzz about Mr. Andersonâs restaurant over the past couple of days only fueled their curiosity.
Gerald quickly rebuked the question. "Thatâs none of your business!"
The teen chuckled awkwardly. "I didnât mean to offend, Gerald. I was just curious. I mean, I made money too, so I was wondering how much Lance earned."
Others spoke up in Lanceâs defense. "You donât have to answer that, Lance. Weâre just grateful you thought of us when you did."
But Lance surprised them by answering.
"All together? About $1,000."
Gasps erupted. Even Gerald was stunned, blurting out, "That much?!"
The first teen, his jealousy barely concealed, exclaimed, "A thousand dollars?! Iâve never even seen that much money!"
Lance remained calm. "If it shocks you that I made $1,000, wait until you hear this: the person who assigned me the job made at least $2,000."
Another round of astonished gasps rippled through the group.
"Wow, Lance, will there be more opportunities like this?" Ennio couldnât resist asking the question on everyoneâs mind. "If thereâs anything I can do, Iâd love to help."
The group chimed in eagerly, their voices growing louder. For the chance to earn $5 with minimal effort, who wouldnât jump at the opportunity?
From the main gathering, Mr. Jobav noticed the commotion and turned to see a large group of teens surrounding Lance. Intrigued, he sent an assistant to find out what was happening.
The assistant returned shortly, looking bemused. "You wonât believe what I just heard, Mr. Jobav."
"Spit it out, or Iâll dock your pay," Jobav replied irritably, disliking the theatrics.
The assistant quickly complied. "That young man made over $1,000 from a recent jobâand the kids say he spent over $100 on them."
Even the assistant seemed incredulous. A thousand dollars was no small sum, even to someone earning above-average wages.
Jobavâs curiosity deepened. "How did he manage that?"