Landlord in the Arctic

Frank nodded at Feng Mountain’s guess, his expression grave.

He then glanced around cautiously before speaking.

"Let’s go. To the tavern... no... somewhere quiet."

"We can go to my cabin," Jenny said quietly.

Inside the cabin, logs burned in the fireplace, casting flickering shadows across the room.

Natasha stood gracefully by the window. Her cascade of blonde hair shimmered in the faint light filtering in. With deep, azure eyes, she watched Feng Mountain’s group recede into the distance, following them until they vanished at the end of the garden’s winding path.

Watching their departing backs, a haughty smile tugged at the corners of Natasha’s lips. Her red lips parted as she murmured to herself.

"Feng, your grandson is a bit unruly, but rest assured. I won’t go against Mother’s promise."

A short while later, the burly men standing guard at the door filed in, carrying bags of all sizes.

One of them, a nearly seven-foot-tall bodyguard with a thick beard, strode up to Natasha. He bowed his head respectfully and said in a deep, humble voice, "Your Highness, we’ve carefully scouted the area. Security is light. To ensure your safety, we need to set up our own security detail."

Once the burly men stood aside to await orders, there were no longer any outsiders in the cabin.

Natasha’s haughty mask instantly fell away. Like a lazy Persian cat, she gave a big stretch, her movements languid and comfortable.

That single stretch put her magnificent bust on full display, her exquisite curves creating a breathtaking sight.

Seeing this, the bodyguards all lowered their heads, not daring to take another look.

"Tell Natalia to bring my things. I haven’t been this relaxed in a long time. The Crown Territory was never like this. It’s comfortable here. I think I’ll stay for a few days."

As she spoke, Natasha strolled to the sofa, sat down elegantly, and tapped her fingers lightly on the armrest, as if pondering something.

"Understood. I’ll arrange the patrol." The bearded bodyguard responded in a low voice, then turned and led the other bodyguards away.

After the bodyguards had all gone out, Natasha slowly stood up and paced to the center of the living room.

She tilted her head up slightly, looking around at the cabin’s furnishings.

An entire wall was hung with Mosin-Nagant rifles, as well as various taxidermied animal heads.

Every piece of furniture, every decoration, had a strong Tundra character.

Natasha gently stroked the sofa’s wooden armrest, her mind drifting. She recalled her earlier meeting with Feng Mountain. ’There was such a stubborn look in his eyes,’ she thought. ’Faced with my power, he actually dared to talk back to me without flinching at all.’

At the thought, the corners of her mouth lifted into a faint smile, and she murmured.

"He’s somewhat interesting. Just has a bit of a bad temper. Taming him, however, shouldn’t be too difficult."

With that said, she walked to the fireplace, slowly extended her hand, and felt the warmth radiating from the fire.

...

Inside the staff’s small cabin.

The already cramped space was now packed to the brim with people.

Whether by design or by sheer coincidence, the crowd jostled Jenny until she was pressed up against Feng Mountain. Their legs were touching, and a blush instantly spread across Jenny’s cheeks. She lowered her head, looking embarrassed.

But Feng Mountain’s brow was tightly furrowed. He was in no mood to pay attention to such trivial matters.

His home had been taken over in one fell swoop, and he, the owner, had been forcefully kicked out.

Who could he even complain to?

"Alright, spit it out. What the hell is going on?" Feng Mountain’s voice was laced with frustration.

Frank looked up to see several pairs of expectant eyes fixed on him. He thought for a moment, cleared his throat, and began.

"Alaska is a state of immigrants. The population consists of the Indigenous People, white immigrants, Hispanics, Asians, African-Americans, and people of mixed race. White people make up 67.6% of Alaska’s population, and the Indigenous People make up 15% or more of the state’s total."

"Are you giving me a geography lesson?" Feng Mountain, simmering with anger, cut him off. "I want to know how I lost my home."

"Let me finish! Don’t interrupt!" Frank shot back, his own temper flaring as he glared at Feng Mountain.

Feng Mountain shrugged helplessly, pursed his lips, and gestured for him to go on.

"Now, where was I?" Frank shot another glare at the culprit. ’This little shit keeps interrupting me.’

Xiaohua, however, was all smiles. She quickly chimed in, "You were saying that the Indigenous People make up 15% or more of the state’s population."

"Yes, the Indigenous population." Frank nodded, collected his thoughts, and continued, "The current population of Alaska is 740,000."

"As you know, Alaska’s crime rate is number one in the United States. There are many gangs, big and small. Among this population of 740,000, there are four main gangs."

"They are the White Supremacist Gang, the 1488 Gang, the Hell Angels, and the Soulja Crew." Frank’s voice turned serious, and his expression grew more solemn.

"The White Supremacist Gang is characterized by Nazi ideology and racial hatred. Its members are involved in various serious crimes, including extortion, kidnapping, and murder."

"The 1488 Gang is a prison gang. The ’14’ represents the 14-word slogan of the white supremacist David Lane, and the ’88’ stands for ’Heil Hitler,’ since H is the eighth letter of the alphabet. This gang is primarily involved in violent crime both inside and outside of prison." Frank frowned, his voice tinged with disgust. "They form cliques in prison, and once they’re out, they continue to cause trouble everywhere."

"The Hell Angels are a transnational motorcycle gang, and they’re active in Alaska, too. This gang is involved in drug trafficking, weapons smuggling, and other crimes. They’re highly organized and very powerful."