Darkstone Code
Chapter 53 - 0053 Grudges and love, erased with a single stroke from now on

Chapter 53: 0053 Grudges and love, erased with a single stroke from now on

Humans are fundamentally profit-driven animals. As long as they are animals, they find it difficult to escape instinctual tendencies. No one in this world can achieve absolute rationality; often, when faced with choices, they opt for the option that benefits them the most.

An unfortunate person, saving himself, also saved the reputation of the Sabin City Tax Bureau, allowing all law enforcement systems to regain some points. Johnson already knew in his heart how to choose; he just didn’t want to say it out loud.

The more filled people’s hearts are with ugliness and darkness, the more they yearn for purity. But the more they yearn for purity, the more they want to destroy it, no matter the means.

Human nature might be called "human nature" precisely because people’s essence is complex enough, degenerate enough, to highlight and give the term "human nature" more meaning.

Director Johnson wiped the sweat off his forehead with a handkerchief. Lynch’s calm gaze made him feel as though it penetrated him like a needle, making him very uneasy and uncomfortable.

Rarely did he encounter such a well-disguised yet highly aggressive gaze. It was the gaze of someone in a superior position, as if Lynch had given him no choice, knowing he couldn’t make his own decision, yet pretending generously to let him choose when he could only choose this sole answer.

A bit hurtful, the sweat on his face and neck increased. Perhaps it was really too hot in here, or maybe the "one-on-one" conversation with Lynch made him feel too much pressure. He suddenly stood up.

After standing up, he even had a gesture of pulling away the chair and turning to leave. His actions paused here; he felt inexplicably guilty, explaining, "I need to think about it, yes, think about it..."

He glanced at Lynch. After Lynch made a "go ahead" gesture, he wiped the sweat and walked out of the barbecue restaurant. Holding the already drenched handkerchief, he stood on the sidewalk, looked back at Lynch, who was sometimes visible and sometimes hidden among the shadows, his hand trembling slightly.

His hand wasn’t quite responding, and sudden anger prompted him to slam the slightly heavy and wet handkerchief to the ground. He gasped for air, and the strange looks from passersby quickly calmed him down.

He patted his mouth, got into the car, shakily fumbled for the keys, inserted them into the lock, started the car, and quickly disappeared from the roadside.

After returning home, Johnson shut himself in the study. Rarely, he took down a bottle of the spirits used to decorate the wine rack. He only drank it when socializing; he didn’t like drinking, possibly related to his father, who drank excessively during his childhood and often beat him and his mother while drunk.

Forty or so years had passed, some things and some people were already in the past, but some things remained unchanged as if they were still in that moment over forty years ago.

One glass after another, the strong smell of alcohol accompanied by an equally strong sense of guilt caused his emotions to fluctuate greatly, because his decision would change three lives, possibly ruin them, yet he had no other choice.

Director Johnson was a good man, at least that’s what people at the Tax Bureau said. His gentleness got him to the director’s position, and it was also his gentleness that stopped him here, but now all this was about to change.

By the next day, the always easygoing, friendly director was gone, replaced by a director who was always frowning, with a voice that had a pale sharpness in it.

In the following days, under the continuous fermentation of public opinion, Sabin City, a second-tier small city in the Bail Federal, for the first time became the focus of the entire Federation and even the world. This feeling... was very peculiar.

Some fresh faces appeared on the streets of the city’s central district, always holding a microphone, and not far from them, there would be interview cars.

The Workers’ Union even initiated a one-day strike over the weekend specifically for this matter. The management of Sabin City Union also paid special visits to Lynch, expressing their indignation at the law enforcement department’s abuse of power.

In general, this was very peculiar, and everyone found it quite novel.

Amid this novelty, Michael Jr.’s case went to trial. Due to Michael being in trouble himself and Michael Jr. refusing any visitation, the court assigned a lawyer to defend Michael Jr.

After more than half an hour of discussion between the defense lawyer and Michael Jr., the lawyer accepted Michael Jr.’s inclination to plead guilty and would try to help him get the shortest sentence possible.

For the court-appointed lawyers just idling through their days, winning rates were not something they cared about. They just got by each day as it came.

In this situation, Michael Jr. appeared in the defendant’s seat in court.

Michael’s application to attend was approved. After all, he was Michael Jr.’s father, even though he was under house arrest at home awaiting the outcome of another assault case, the court allowed him to attend.

Merely three or five days without seeing each other, the meeting in court felt like a year had passed. Michael looked at the haggard expression of Michael Jr., feeling a stab in his heart, and Michael Jr. gave a faint smile.

Michael Jr. read aloud a confession statement he didn’t know the origin of. After a series of procedures ended, the lawyer secured a nine-month sentence for Michael Jr., honestly speaking, a nine-month sentence for burglary shocked many people.

The lawyer argued that Michael Jr.’s age being underaged without any prior criminal record and having been able to receive full scholarships from childhood to adulthood as a basis, claiming his burglary was more like an unintentional crime of passion.

The court reviewed the relevant materials and eventually accepted the defense lawyer’s argument, awarding the shortest sentence possible. One must admit, Michael Jr.’s ability to consistently get full scholarships did help him.

Michael was removed from the courtroom twice for disruptions during the trial, but the Judge understood his sentiments and specifically allowed him to meet with Michael Jr. afterward.

At this moment, Michael was silently crying in pain, clutching his head, repeatedly hitting his forehead and head with his fists, as if hating himself.

The quiet corridor made his subtle sobs much clearer. In his intense suffering, he felt someone sit beside him.

At that moment, Michael was like an injured lion; without raising his head, he opened his mouth, and a "get out" tore through his vocal cords and sprayed out from his throat, filled with violent emotions.

Yet the person sitting beside him remained unmoved, and next, Michael heard the sound of a lighter and soon the strong smell of cigarettes.

He wiped the tears from his eyes and face, unwilling for anyone else to see his distress. He considered himself a tough guy, and he wanted to show that tough image to drive away the person next to him.

Just as he was about to roar, a familiar voice sounded in his ear!

"If I were you, I wouldn’t do that!"

Lynch, it was Lynch!

Michael would never forget this voice, which had also become the main source of his nightmares recently. He glared fiercely at Lynch with his tear-stained eyes, "You’re here to watch me make a fool of myself, are you pleased?"

Lynch pursed his lips, offering a cigarette, which Michael casually knocked away. The cigarette rolled and bounced a few times on the ground, coming to rest under a bench on the other side of the corridor.

"Are you always like this, thinking everyone should cater to your bad temper?" Lynch nonchalantly withdrew his hand, which paused in mid-air for a few seconds, his eyes showing a hint of indifference.

His face was smiling, but there was no laughter in his eyes. Michael, with his quick temper, closed his mouth, lowered his head, looking at his hands, seemingly lost in his world again.

Lynch looked at him, shrugged, stood up, and looked down at him, "I came here just to tell you, our animosity is almost over."

"You will get what’s coming to you, and you don’t need to worry about your child. He has a lot of boyfriends in prison..."

Michael suddenly lashed out again, grabbing Lynch by the collar, and Lynch raised his hands.

A lion is still a lion, even when injured.

Lynch was utterly unafraid of the harsh aura emanating from Michael. He joked, "If I were you, I’d let go; you and your son have already paid for your mistakes, and you should consider your wife..."

The next second, Michael’s fierce expression instantly turned pale. A lion is terrifying, but it is ultimately no match for a hunter.

While tidying his collar, Lynch laughed and said, "Alright, I’ve said all I needed to say. Wish you a pleasant holiday, Mr. Michael!"

The footsteps grew more and more distant, and Michael stiffly turned his head, watching Lynch disappear into the sunset light at the other end of the corridor. His consciousness seemed to be enveloped by the light at the moment Lynch melted into it.

It’s like... drowning, making it impossible to breathe!

Even when that light is so bright!

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