Darkstone Code
Chapter 68 - 0068 The End of Michael

Chapter 68: 0068 The End of Michael

Just as Lynch was starting to renovate his new house, there were some developments in Michael’s law enforcement case.

The first to step forward wasn’t Lynch, nor Michael, least of all Director Johnson, but rather his good partner.

This partner had been working with Michael for twelve or thirteen years, and was also the deputy leader of Sabin City’s Tax Bureau investigation team. In the eyes of many, he was always seen as Michael’s good buddy, sharing everything with each other.

No one expected him to step forward first, confessing to the media some "details" that hadn’t been previously known.

According to the partner’s account, the conflict between Michael and Lynch stemmed from an accidental "collision" between the two.

"At that time, Michael and I were walking down the street, and Lin... Lynch was pushing a cart full of dirty clothes on the sidewalk. Michael pointed at Lynch and said to me, ’Hey, look at that kid, let’s mess with him’."

In front of the camera, the partner displayed a painful and regretful expression, "I thought he was joking, but evidently, he was serious. Then he took me along, assaulting Mr. Lynch without any cause, without a search warrant, arrest warrant, or any legal documents."

"He had me search the cart to find anything that could incriminate Mr. Lynch, while he took Mr. Lynch into the alley corner and beat him up there..."

The reporters gasped, finding it hard to imagine what kind of hatred would drive an adult to act so viciously towards a young man.

A reporter couldn’t help but stand up, "Unnamed partner, did Michael and Lynch know each other before this, or did they have any enmity?"

The partner shook his head, "They didn’t know each other, and whether there was any enmity, I’m not aware, perhaps Michael himself knows the reason..." Then he continued to narrate Michael’s "atrocities," including threats and beatings that made the victim spit blood.

Such incidents further highlighted Michael’s brutality and cruelty, pushing the media to lean more towards seeing Michael as a problematic investigator, accustomed to using violence to solve problems, even threatening ordinary, innocent citizens.

Later, Director Johnson made a personal appearance, expressing his own work failures, admitting he kept hoping Michael would change, thus indirectly allowing Michael’s actions. He stated that he must also bear indisputable responsibility for this matter.

Soon, everyone from Michael’s friends, his partner, his subordinates, or anyone who knew him was being interviewed by the media. Most interviews yielded similar results: Michael had severe violent tendencies, and his temper was extremely irritable and aggressive.

The media, during an interview with Michael’s father, were even chased away by the old man wielding a double-barreled shotgun, which inadvertently dragged Michael’s father into becoming a new focal point of public opinion—’How irritable can one individual be’.

People began shifting the question of whether law enforcement was excessive away from Michael’s case, and more towards examining Michael’s character.

Many asked his friends and colleagues why they didn’t warn Michael earlier about his bad temper, with several even saying they were afraid Michael would beat them up.

The quick reversal of public opinion greatly pleased the Federation’s Tax Bureau. Now, there were few legislators yelling about putting power in a cage, everyone was criticizing Michael, and that was fantastic!

Less than a week after Lynch bought the house, Michael’s case went to trial.

Lynch, as the primary and known victim, needed to be present as a witness, and he might be needed.

This trial was not public, under the pretext that too many requested media could disrupt the court proceedings and its order, but in reality, it was to ensure the correctness of the trial’s outcome.

The FBI and the Federation’s Tax Bureau had enough energy to alert the Ministry of Justice, which issued a closed trial order to Sabin City’s court the day before.

Since this wasn’t a major criminal case, rather just an ordinary assault case, there was no need for a jury, only the defendant, the defendant’s defense lawyer, and the judge.

The court was very spacious. Lynch sat in the gallery, curiously observing Michael, who was evidently spruced up at the last minute: his pale face made him look much more haggard, and his lackluster hair made him appear quite miserable.

The judge asked over a dozen questions. Except for a few questions that Michael refused to answer, he responded to most and pleaded guilty.

The court immediately sentenced him to eighty-seven months, which is seven years and three months.

Considering Michael was an enforcement officer in Sabin City and had personally sent people to jail, for his personal safety, his sentence will be served in a state prison with stricter management in another state.

Although surprised at the length of the sentence, Michael didn’t request an appeal. The judge did not impose any restriction on sentence reduction, implying he wouldn’t serve the full seven years.

According to federal laws and regulations, he could reduce his sentence to under three years by various means, and then the Federal Tax Bureau could invoke the "Special Talent Requisition Act" to "requisition" Michael, find somewhere else for him, and then he would be free.

The actual duration of the sentence was only about three years, and this was the result personally guaranteed to him by Director Johnson, thus there was no need for Michael to contemplate an appeal.

Once appealed, it would be tried in a state court, potentially worsening the situation. Federal judges are very idealistic during sentencing, and if they consider Michael’s appeal a manifestation of uncontrollable aggression and a provocation against the court and law, they might extend the sentence and restrict sentence reduction.

Things seemed to have come to a conclusion at this point. After the sentence, the media instantly got the verdict and, within a day, the entire Federation knew the result. People, after a brief moment of collective justice, started engaging in new topics.

A storm faded out of sight, and everyone seemed happy.

Director Johnson received commendation from the state office, Michael’s partner was promoted to the Tax Bureau’s investigation team deputy leader, team members experienced different adjustments, and those behind the scenes contentedly laid low, with the public retreating satisfied after a spectacle.

Each person left feeling satisfied, and it was quite comedic.

"Mr. Lynch!"

Having just shaken off the relentless reporters, walking about a hundred meters or so, two kids with dirty baseball caps blocked his path. He recognized one of them, the same kid who once traded ninety-seven cents for a dollar, a newsboy.

Lynch casually slipped his hand into his pants pocket, where there was a pen. He pushed off the cap with his finger. A man once disposed of someone, claiming "a pen is like a knife." Lynch wasn’t sure if he was that fierce, but at least it gave him some confidence.

He’d watched these kids stab the boss to death that night; their hidden fangs were more striking than the pitiful image they presented.

"Is there something you need?" Lynch asked with a slight smile. He always smiled as if the weather was always good, and the sun always shone brightly.

The two teenagers exchanged a glance, and one patted his backpack, "Sir, I have a lot of change here. Do you need any?"

After the boss’s death, the kids were temporarily relieved but only temporarily as things soon changed.

They needed to send the earnings from employing these kids regularly to their families or the welfare institution, and they also needed to grease some social relationships.

The payment for the welfare institution and families could be taken home themselves, but they were powerless against social connections. This meant they were no longer getting newspapers, as the publishers refused to sell to these minors.

At the same time, there were issues at the recycling station, continuously forcing prices down. Originally, they could make twenty or thirty bucks, or more, recycling daily, but now it only fetched a few bucks or a bit over ten.

If they argued too much, the recycling station wouldn’t accept their goods, causing panic among the kids. If they couldn’t resolve the current dilemma, they would soon be sent by their guardians to someone else. They needed a way out.