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Chapter 52: No Matter What the Choice, No Matter How Many Options There Are, You Always Have to Choose One and Bear The Consequences.
The director of the Federal Tax Bureau in Sabin City had an unremarkable name: Johnson(约翰逊).
Johnson didn't have an illustrious background. In the past, during an era when people firmly believed that ideals could be achieved through hard work, as long as one dared to strive and had courage, coupled with a bit of luck, it wasn't difficult to stand out from the crowd.
But nowadays, without any other assistance, being the director of a second-tier city's tax bureau was the ceiling for Johnson.
Now, his concerns revolved around how to secure his maximum retirement benefits and make his final years less agonizing.
Many would assume that a federal tax bureau director, even one from a small city, should be a secretive millionaire with numerous bank accounts and properties. However, this wasn't the case.
The lives of most of these federal officials, who hovered between high and low, were far more modest than people imagined... In contrast, the income of those genuine grassroots workers, frontline personnel, tended to be more complex.
For a lower-level administrative manager, monitored by the inspection department, who spent all day in an office, where could they acquire illicit income?
However, various donations and social welfare benefits did exist as legitimate sources of income.
The high salaries and top-notch social insurance provided by the federal government were meant to minimize their susceptibility to negative influences and prevent them from becoming pawns for certain individuals.
Of course, this didn't entirely mean Johnson was destitute. Sometimes poverty wasn't merely about describing wealth; it also described power.
In short, he was someone who had less than those above him but more than those below him in terms of wealth. It would be even better if he could secure his retirement pension.
At this moment, he was deeply troubled. The joint operation between the Federal Bureau of Investigation and the Federal Tax Bureau had failed. This meant he couldn't swiftly ease the current situation. If the higher-ups truly became enraged, his days ahead wouldn't be pleasant.
Now, he regretted having indulged Michael because, nearing retirement, he was reluctant to offend anyone further. This had gradually led to him overlooking the shortcomings of those under his supervision.
While he was scratching his head, the phone rang. He furrowed his brow; from the signal light, it was an external call. If it could pass through his secretary, then it surely required his attention.
He took several deep breaths, calmed the turmoil within, and then picked up the phone...
Later on, Director Johnson informed his family member at home that he had a social engagement that night and wouldn't be dining at home.
He and his children lived together in a residential compound adjacent to Michael's, in a slightly inferior neighborhood in terms of environmental aesthetics and overall residential compound's facilities but with a larger house accommodating more people.
While contemplating these troublesome matters, he drove to the warehouse district, far from the city center, and parked by the roadside near the warehouses.
About ten meters away, there was a barbecue shop that served only three items: minced beef patties, wholemeal bread, and some fresh vegetables.
There were no prime cuts of beef here; the people from this warehouse district couldn't afford that. The minced beef patties they served were made from the further mashed up minced beef leftovers similar to what Lynch and Katherine used to eat when they lived together.
They added some other things to the patties, such as whole grains, some nuts near their expiration, and some inexpensive items.
Just after dinnertime, the barbecue shop was still packed. The ninety-eight cent thick beef patties, accompanied by vegetables and free bread provided without limit, fulfilled the nutritional needs of the laborers after a day's toil.
Almost all the blue-overall workers from the warehouse district were dining here, making this unmarked barbecue shop quite renowned in the area.
Johnson wasn't quite accustomed to the environment here; the pervasive smell of sweat and something else he couldn't quite identify was everywhere. After all, in the increasingly hot weather, those who labored all day weren't expected to smell pleasant.
He glanced around, noticing that the laborers also deliberately maintained some distance from him. It was evident that his outfit wasn't cheap, and no one wanted to risk losing ten days', half a month's, or even more salary due to their carelessness.
Soon, he spotted Lynch. Lynch waved at him and then ordered another beef patty and bread from the boss.
"Is this your idea of dinner?" Johnson frowned as he sat down. His expression wasn't very pleasant. Lynch had called him out to discuss recent events, and Johnson vaguely sensed something.
Originally, he didn't want to compromise with Lynch. Michael had suffered miserably, and the image of the Tax Bureau had also been affected. However, the pressure was truly immense now. He could only choose the option he least wanted, perhaps that was a sign of maturity.
Though he chose maturity, he could still maintain his attitude towards Lynch. There was no conflict between the two.
Lynch shrugged indifferently, tearing apart the bread in his hand without any concern. He used it to wipe off some sauce from the plate, then stuffed it in his mouth, chewed, and swallowed.
He brushed some crumbs off his fingers onto the table, then picked up his knife and fork to sample a piece of the minced beef patty. With a smile, he remarked, “It's not as unappealing as you might think. Feel free to give it a try.”
At this moment, the proprietress, a woman in her forties, came over. She rudely placed the plate on the table and also a small basket of bread.
Director Johnson looked speechlessly at the proprietress who turned away and then back at Lynch. Finally, he gritted his teeth, mimicking Lynch's actions and tore a piece of bread.
As he put the sauce-soaked bread into his mouth, it wasn't as hard to swallow as he had imagined. The fragrance and the resilient texture of the wholemeal bread gave the food an unexpected deliciousness.
He raised an eyebrow, picked up a piece of minced beef patty with a knife and fork. Perhaps not as good as those steaks worth nine or thirty-nine bucks a piece, but it was quite tender and juicy. There were even more taste variations and acceptable flavors.
While they ate and talked, the surroundings were filled with cacophonous noises. Even if someone passed by them, it was hard for others to hear their conversation, even if they raised their voices.
"I called you sincerely. From the beginning, I was just a victim if you understand the sequence of events," Lynch said, prompting Director Johnson to nod in agreement. He indeed understood. Michael wanted to arrest Mr. Fox as an achievement to show off. That was why he dragged Lynch into this mess. Regardless of whether Lynch committed any illegal acts, at least, until now, he was innocent. Michael was constantly harassing him.
Johnson nodded, providing a basis to continue. While eating, Lynch continued, "You know, I'm timid and want to avoid trouble. Some journalists suggested that I sue you all, but I gave up. It's not the best choice to respond to hatred with hatred. So I chose tolerance..."
Director Johnson looked at this shameless man waiting for his reaction, reluctantly forcing a smile. "Yes, you're magnanimous."
Lynch smiled satisfactorily. "Yes, I'm magnanimous. I used to be, and I still am now. I don't want to dwell on the problems between us caused by Michael. I'm actively seeking solutions. I have a proposal; I don't know if you're interested."
Director Johnson swiftly finished the beef patty, ending this terrible dinner. He glanced at the stained napkin on the table and finally wiped his mouth with a handkerchief. "Go on..."
"As far as I know, there are others in Sabin City involved in money laundering, and their methods might..." A faint expression of helplessness flashed across Lynch’s face. "...be less sophisticated. Perhaps you should focus your attention on them, they might be easier targets."
Director Johnson furrowed his brow slightly. “Even if I apprehend all of them, it won't be enough to calm the current situation.”
Lynch had almost finished dinner. He picked up the last bread, wiped the sauce and meat from the plate, stuffed it in his mouth, feeling grateful for every morsel due to his impoverished life.
With his mouth full of food, he continued to speak, "This is merely an issue between Michael and me, a personal vendetta that should not escalate to public attention. You have impressive achievements in your hands, and with such a solid foundation, the public will patiently listen to your explanations. None of this has anything to do with the Tax Bureau. Coupled with the case of Michael Junior, perhaps he was just settling a personal score through his power..." He paused, smiling, fingers naturally interlaced, thumbs resting against his chin, gazing at Director Johnson. He believed this old man understood what he was implying.
Initially, for the first dozen seconds, Director Johnson wore a contemplative expression, hiding a hint of impatience. But soon, his expression began to change. He understood Lynch's intent.
He knew Michael's son had been arrested for a burglary and had supposedly confessed and begun serving time in advance. If the cause-and-effect relationship and the timeline were reversed, portraying Michael's actions against Lynch as an attempt to rectify his son's imminent imprisonment, everything would change.
In simpler terms, Michael's son had committed the burglary, stealing Lynch's ring, and Lynch had reported it. Michael, knowing this, wanted to cover it up, leading to personal conflict between him and Lynch. His later act of assaulting Lynch had no relation to his identity or the extent of enforcement power within the Tax Bureau or any other federal departments. This was an isolated incident. His purpose didn't require an explanation. Everyone could guess that it was definitely because he wanted Lynch to drop the charges.
A government official breaking the law to conceal his child's crime, resorting to violent coercion to silence the plaintiff...
Seeing Director Johnson's changing expression, Lynch knew Johnson had understood. He softly reminded, "This is murder."
For a moment, Director Johnson's mind was in turmoil. Yes, he truly detested Michael. This man had made him lose his face, threatened his later life, but was it necessary to be so ruthless?
He knew it was all fake, but sometimes the public didn't know. Coupled with the pushing and pulling of interested parties, Lynch, as a victim, would have the most convincing argument. If he spoke out and collaborated with the federal government's desire to quell public opinion, Michael would undoubtedly become the scapegoat.
But... was it too harsh, using one person or even one family's future as a bargaining chip?
Looking at Director Johnson's indecisiveness, Lynch softly said, "You're a good man, sir, but you should also understand the seriousness of the matter. On one side, it's a household with a stain on its reputation, a head of the investigative team that has caused great headaches for you and Sabin City citizens, and on the other side, there are numerous federal law enforcement agencies and the celebrating criminals. Sometimes, we indeed find it challenging to make decisions, yet we are compelled to make them."
"Whether it's one or all of them, it's not that difficult."
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