Chapter 247: Freedom Matters More
At Kevin's place, countless bundles of dried green herb hung upside down from the ceiling, filling the entire house. Frank had paid Kevin and Veronica to help dry and process the material.
"What do you think Frank's planning to do with all this?" Kevin asked while working.
"Obviously sell it. He's probably joined some gang or is working for someone big. Where else would he get all that money? Have you even noticed how much he's spent recently?" Veronica replied.
Veronica knew Frank had around $200,000 in dirty money—Fiona had told her that much.
She wasn't sure how exactly Frank got the money, but seeing how he collected all this green herb, she could guess what he was up to.
"Don't go poking around or asking too much. What he's doing has nothing to do with us. We're just helping him launder the money," Veronica reminded Kevin.
She had no idea what Frank had been doing for the past six months, but judging by his calm demeanor and his decision to take all that herb off them, one thing was clear—he was no longer the same Frank who used to mooch off disability checks and fake compensations, wasting his life away drunk in bars.
Now, Frank had likely become a major dealer—or at least a high-ranking lieutenant under one. No regular foot soldier could afford to throw money around like that.
Still, that had nothing to do with them, and Veronica didn't want any deeper involvement. Even if she saw through what Frank was doing, she pretended not to know. She had no desire to get in on it.
If they'd wanted to get into the drug trade, there were plenty of gangs in the South Side. They could have done it long ago.
Money was important, yes. But compared to money, they valued their freedom more. Getting locked up wasn't part of the plan.
If Frank ever got caught, they wouldn't be implicated.
They weren't his subordinates, just co-owners of a bar.
Even if authorities discovered the bar was used to launder money, they could show their legal contracts and feign ignorance. They could pin everything on Frank.
Frank likely foresaw this too, which was why he had deliberately outlined the accounting responsibilities in the ownership agreement—to keep them clear of the mess.
To Kevin and Veronica, Frank's family was like their own, and they knew Frank wouldn't intentionally harm them.
"By the way, Vee... about what Frank said—how do you feel about it?" Kevin suddenly changed the subject while holding a hairdryer.
"What thing?" Veronica asked.
"Adopting Ethel. I think we should adopt both Ethel and Jonah," Kevin said.
Jonah was Ethel's child. Ethel had been abused by a cult leader at gave birth to Jonah at thirteen. Ethel was only fourteen now.
Debbie was eleven this year, just three years younger than Ethel, so the two often played together.
"Baby, I love them too. But let's be real—right now, we're getting money from the government to take care of them. If we adopt them officially, the money stops. Then we'd have to support them with our own income. That defeats the whole point," Veronica replied.
The original reason Veronica agreed to take in Ethel was simple: money.
"But—" Kevin tried to say more.
"No 'but.' Get back to work," Veronica said, cutting him off.
As the bar business picked up and their laundering operations entered a stable cycle, they were washing more and more money each day.
Thanks to Kevin and Veronica's hard work, all the herb in the basement had been processed.
Frank, using his connection with old Milkovich, offloaded the entire batch in one go and pocketed hundreds of thousands in cash.
And none of it had anything to do with Walter or Pinkman—this was a solo operation. All the profits were Frank's alone.
Of course, it was all dirty money.
Laundering it through the bar would take several months.
To stay extra safe, Frank reached out to his lawyer—a hefty woman who had long helped him navigate legal gray areas and insurance claims—and brought her in on the scheme too.
Money laundering was the kind of business where having a lawyer involved was inevitable.
"You want me to launder your money too?" Frank asked Pinkman. "Not for free, of course—there's a small fee. But way cheaper than doing it elsewhere."
Frank had already figured out how to clean his own stash.
But Pinkman's $300,000 was still sitting untouched—completely dirty. If he wanted to spend any of it, he'd have to use cash.
Still, if Pinkman wanted to launder his money, he could do it cleanly.
He didn't need to do what Frank had done—buy a business, set up a whole infrastructure just to clean money.
There were services for that, but they charged heavy fees—20% to 30%.
For example, if you laundered $20,000, you'd probably only get $14,000–$15,000 clean after fees.
Frank had looked into all this before deciding to open his own laundering front—because with enough money, the fees alone were enough to start your own operation.
That said, given his friendship with Pinkman, Frank only asked for a 10% fee.
No freebies, but a fair deal. Frank explained everything clearly so Pinkman could make an informed choice.
Plus, laundering through Frank meant Pinkman didn't have to worry about hauling his cash from Chicago all the way back to New Mexico.
"…Laundering? Yeah… okay," Pinkman scratched his head.
He wasn't exactly a decisive person. He'd grown up hustling on the streets, scraping by with small change. He had no real concept of big money.
If he had a few hundred or a grand, he'd know what to do with it.
But now, with $300,000 in hand, he had no clue what to do. It was paralyzing.
Frank had been investing—into the bar, renovations, furniture, everything. Meanwhile, Pinkman's cash just sat there, untouched.
And he wasn't alone—lots of people froze when suddenly handed a fortune.
It was like those "demolition rich" families who suddenly got huge compensation from forced housing relocations. Having never had that kind of money before, they had no clue how to handle it. They quit their jobs, bought luxury goods and sports cars, gambled—it was like money burned a hole in their pockets.
As the elders would say: "Too much money, not enough sense." They only came to their senses once it was all gone.
(End of Chapter)
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