Darkstone Code
Chapter 42 - 0042 Adults all have it tough, sigh.

Chapter 42: 0042 Adults all have it tough, sigh.

There are mainly three types of people in prison. The first type is gang members. These people make up the majority of the prison inmates and are also the most "indestructible" group. No matter the era or who is in power, these people are always the majority in prisons.

The second type of people engages in relatively trendy criminal activities, mostly related to deceit and fraud. These individuals are not gang members, and the reason they ended up here is not because of what they did but because they were not careful or cunning enough and got caught by the police or investigators.

The third type is basically absent in Sabin City area prisons. These people have not committed any crimes and can leave prison anytime.

Being in prison is just a means for them, and it is possible they got caught in a scheme. Most of these individuals are serving time in some of the more famous Federation Prisons, yet even in prison, they can still influence the politics, economy, culture, and even military of the entire Federation.

As for the others, there are various reasons but not many, like young Michael, who, without any gang background, is often recruited by gangs in prison. Many gangs regard prison as the main source of fresh blood.

No one here is overly discriminated against, though social class certainly still exists. If prison could eliminate social class, then... wouldn’t it have succeeded long ago?

In a society, where there are people, there are classes. Young Michael, because of his young age, did not receive harsh treatment. In a place that emphasizes personal valor, bullying a half-grown child only leads to contempt, not admiration.

But if young Michael’s father were someone with a "license," the situation would be different because most people here were brought in by those with "licenses."

In this eerie atmosphere, it was lunchtime. In Sabin City area prison, after lunch comes the noon break, followed by free activity time, then dinner, and an hour and a half of recreational time, during which they can watch some television.

Next comes shower time and night rest, followed by lights out. Every day, everyone is very busy, at least more fulfilled than when they were indulging in pleasures outside.

Young Michael, holding a rubber tray, arrived at the meal-serving area. In the past few days, the prisoner in charge of serving meals gave him more meat and vegetables than others, but today, that guy scooped a spoonful of slop from the edge of the vegetable pot and dumped it directly onto young Michael’s tray.

He looked at the prisoner serving meals, who had a look of impatience. Before he could say anything, suddenly a force erupted from behind, causing him to stumble forward and fall to the ground.

He lay in the messy vegetable soup, a bit bewildered. The prison guard overseeing these prisoners just glanced and looked away. As long as there wasn’t a riot, they wouldn’t interfere too much in conflicts between prisoners.

Prison is a unique miniature society with a unique social structure. In the absence of major incidents, no one actively intervenes.

Young Michael got up, ready to pick up his tray, when a foot stepped on it. He bent over and looked up at the person stepping on his tray, who was looking down at him. One was bewildered, the other indifferent.

No one in the dining hall cheered or jeered. Most just watched with faint smiles. If that person hadn’t exposed young Michael’s background, someone might have stood up to stop it, like those planning to recruit him into their gang.

But now, everyone was watching the show. Those with "licenses," and even their families, are instinctively loathed here.

The person stepping on young Michael’s tray twisted their ankle, grinding the rubber tray against the ground, leaving a yellow-black stain with a hint of stench. Young Michael’s stomach contracted instantly, followed by a surge of nausea that sent him running to the trash bin, vomiting some undigested breakfast.

He hadn’t realized his good days were over. Just as he was vomiting, someone suddenly pulled down his pants and thrust him headfirst into the trash bin. Inside, there was some leftover garbage, saliva, thick phlegm, and his vomit, leaving his mind momentarily blank...

When the prison guard pulled him out, he hadn’t reacted yet, feeling like everything changed in an instant.

Meanwhile, in Sabin City and across the state, news began to spread rapidly: the Federal Tax Bureau’s investigation team leader abused power, nearly causing an innocent citizen to meet the Lord.

Just as Lynch initially estimated, he didn’t use judicial power to challenge the Tax Bureau’s enforcement rights but used the media to furiously tear apart their facade, and this tactic played a crucial role.

Michael was sent to be restricted within the Sabin City limits that day and was detained at his residence—the Director of Sabin City’s Federal Tax Bureau personally intervened to temporarily bail Michael out. Keeping him in the police station would only give reporters more points to attack the Tax Bureau, such as "if he did nothing wrong, why is he detained at the police station" and the like.

He had to get Michael out, at least to prevent those stupid citizens from being led by the media.

At Michael’s home, the Director rarely lost his temper, "You’re too impulsive; do you know today the headquarters scolded me for more than half an hour on the phone?"

Around seven in the morning, a large number of reporters, like flies smelling stink... no, more like bees smelling flowers, surrounded Lynch. From nurses, doctors, they concocted shocking articles through their imaginations. Among them were two federation-level media outlets. Before nine o’clock, basically all seventeen states of the Federation knew about this, and public opinion began to ferment.

This kind of thing happens multiple times every year, but this time there were evidently behind-the-scenes manipulators. The Federal Tax Administration Bureau began to pay attention and warned the Director that if he couldn’t quell the matter quickly, the Inspectorate might send a special envoy to Sabin City for a secret investigation.

By then, it’s not only Michael who’d be unlucky, and it’s not just "exile" to remote areas. They might not only lose their jobs but also face imprisonment.

For these "licensed" individuals, imprisonment is worse than death. They would be severely humiliated by those they sent in, a fate worse than death.

Michael hung his head in silence. He had a bad temper but wasn’t foolish. He already realized the repercussions of his impulsive actions; now, it’s too late to say anything. Waiting for the Director’s anger to pass before discussing how to handle the aftermath was better.

The Director scolded him for a while longer before finally sighing, "I want to protect you, but those above suggest throwing you to calm public outrage..."

Michael suddenly looked up at the Director, disbelief in his eyes. Could they give up on a middle manager like him so easily?

The Director avoided his gaze, smiling bitterly and shaking his head, "You picked the wrong opponent, you know?" Before Michael could respond, the Director continued, "I thought Lynch would sue you. Had he done so, it would’ve been simple. When the issue involves enforcement rights, the headquarters would side with us, no matter what you did."

"But I heard he has forgiven you publicly in front of the media, even saying some good words for you, and abandoned the idea of suing you. Do you know how big of a trouble you’re in now?"

Michael might not be clear, but the Director was. The more magnanimous Lynch appeared, the angrier the media and the public became, even if part of their anger was directed at Lynch—furious that he didn’t dare to stand up for his rights.

However, most of their anger focused on Michael and those backing him. Amidst the media frenzy, Lynch’s concession would be seen as a retreat, unwilling to fight the Tax Bureau—a symptom of the excessive power held by the Federation’s agencies.

Over the years, the issue of whether the Federation departments’ enforcement powers were too excessive has been discussed hundreds or thousands of times, but nothing ever comes of it. This time will end the same, but someone has to take responsibility.

No one is more suitable than Michael.

"I will try my best to protect you, but just in case...," he patted Michael’s arm, "don’t blame me for not trying my best. Actually, the best course now is to ask Lynch for help. If you both appear together before the media, there might still be a turning point!"

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