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Chapter 53: Clearing the Grudges and Hatreds
Human beings are inherently driven by self-interest. As animals, it's difficult to escape the instincts ingrained within. No one in this world can achieve absolute rationality; often, when faced with choices, individuals tend to opt for the option most advantageous to themselves.
A stroke of misfortune for one person would not only save himself but also salvage the reputation of the Sabin City Tax Bureau, even redeeming some points for the entire law enforcement system. Johnson had long understood which choice to make, yet he was unwilling to articulate it.
The more people's hearts are filled with ugliness and darkness, the more they yearn for purity. However, the stronger the longing for purity, the greater the desire to destroy it—by any means necessary.
Perhaps "human nature" is termed so because human essence is sufficiently complex and degraded, thereby enhancing the depth of the term "human nature."
Wiping the sweat from his forehead with the handkerchief, Director Johnson was unsettled by Lynch's calm gaze. It felt like needles pricking at him, making him highly uncomfortable.
Rarely did he encounter such a well-disguised yet highly invasive gaze; it was the gaze of someone in power. It was as if he gave him a choice, knowing he wouldn’t be able to make up his mind on his own, and yet pretending to be magnanimous in letting him choose, though there was only one choice available.
Stressed, sweat appeared on his face, even more on his neck. Perhaps it was due to the heat in the air, or maybe because the face-to-face interaction and 'alone' discussion with Lynch made him feel an overwhelming amount of pressure, prompting him to suddenly stand up.
Originally, after standing up, he intended to make a motion to pull the chair back and leave. However, the action paused midway. He felt a strange sense of guilt and offered an explanation, "I need to think about it, yes, think about it…"
Glancing at Lynch, who gestured for him to take his time, Johnson, wiping the sweat off, left the barbecue shop. Standing on the sidewalk with a damp handkerchief, he glanced back at Lynch, who appeared intermittently in the crowd. His hands trembled slightly.
Suddenly, a sudden surge of anger made him forcefully throw the rather heavy, damp handkerchief to the ground, as if he was unable to control his own hand. As he gasped heavily, the odd glances from passersby quickly calmed him down.
After slapping his own mouth, he darted into the car. Shaking, he fumbled for the key and inserted it into the lock. After starting the engine, he pressed down on the gas pedal and quickly disappeared along the roadside.
Upon returning home, Johnson locked himself in the study. From the liquor shelf, he took down a bottle of liquor used for decoration, something he had rarely done in the past. He only drank at social gatherings because he disliked alcohol. This aversion likely stemmed from his father's heavy drinking during his childhood, often followed by violence towards him and his mother.
Over forty years had passed, and some things and people had become part of the past, yet some remained unchanged as if frozen in time from over forty years ago.
Glass after glass of alcohol, the strong smell mingled with a strong sense of guilt, caused his emotions to fluctuate greatly. His decision would change the lives of three people and might ruin them, but he had no other choice.
Director Johnson was considered a good person, at least according to those in the Tax Bureau. His affability had led him to the position of director, but it was also this affability that brought him to a halt at this moment. Things were about to change.
The next day, the affable director that people knew had disappeared. In his place emerged a bureau director who always wore a frown and spoke with a piercingly indifferent tone.
In the following days, as the public opinion continued to brew, Sabin City, a small second-tier city within the Baylor Federation, became the focal point not just nationwide but globally. It felt... peculiar.
New faces appeared on the streets of the city center, always clutching a microphone, accompanied by interview vehicles nearby.
The workers' union, in response to the situation, organized a one-day strike over the weekend. The management of the Sabin City union specifically visited Lynch, expressing their indignation at the abuse of power within the law enforcement department.
In short, it was a profoundly unusual time, and everyone found it refreshing.
In the midst of this novelty, Michael Junior's case went to trial. Due to Michael's current troubles and Michael Junior's refusal of any visitation, the court assigned a lawyer as Michael Junior's defense counsel.
After over half an hour of deliberation between the defense attorney and Michael Junior, the lawyer agreed with Michael Junior's plea and promised to help him seek a reduced sentence.
For lawyers whose livelihoods depended on court-appointed cases, winning rates were no longer a primary concern; making it through each day was enough.
In this situation, Michael Junior appeared in the defendant's seat in court.
Michael's request for attendance was approved; after all, he was Michael Junior's father. Despite being under house arrest awaiting the outcome of another case involving an assault, the court allowed him to attend.
Only a few days had passed, but the father and son's meeting in court felt like it had been a year. Michael looked at the weary-faced Michael Junior with a heart-wrenching sensation, while Michael Junior forced a smile.
Michael Junior read the confession letter, whose origins remained unknown to him. After a series of proceedings, the lawyer managed to secure a nine-month sentence for Michael Junior. To be honest, a mere nine-month sentence for burglary was beyond many people's expectations.
The lawyer cited Michael Junior's young age, lack of prior criminal record, and a history of consistently receiving full scholarships as a diligent and exemplary student to argue that the break-in seemed more like a crime of passion without subjective intent.
Having reviewed the relevant materials, the court approved the defense attorney's argument and handed down the minimum sentence. It was undeniable that Michael Junior's consistent academic excellence had played a role.
During the trial, Michael was expelled from the courtroom twice for disturbing the proceedings. However, the judge empathized with him and specifically granted him a chance to meet with Michael Junior later.
At this moment, Michael sat in the corridor, holding his head, silently weeping in agony. He repeatedly used his fists and palms to strike his forehead and head, seemingly filled with self-hatred.
The quiet corridor amplified his faint sobbing. Amidst his intense suffering, he sensed someone sitting beside him.
At that moment, Michael resembled an injured lion. Without raising his head, he opened his mouth, and a word, "Fuck off," tore from his throat, laden with savage emotions.
Yet, the person seated beside him remained unfazed. Subsequently, Michael heard the sound of a lighter igniting and then the scent of strong tobacco.
He wiped away the tears from his eyes and face, reluctant to show his vulnerability to anyone. He prided himself on being tough, at least in his own perception. He aimed to project an image of strength to those around him, signaling them to step away.
Just as he prepared to roar, a familiar voice echoed in his ear!
"If I were you, I wouldn't do that!"
It was Lynch! Lynch would forever remain etched in Michael's memory. This voice had become the primary source of his recent nightmares. With tear-stained eyes, Michael glared at Lynch. "Are you here to mock me? Are you enjoying this?"
Lynch shrugged, offering a cigarette, which Michael swatted away. The cigarette tumbled on the ground, rolling to the other end of the corridor.
"Is this how you always are, believing everyone should tolerate your foul temper?" Lynch retrieved his hand, paused momentarily, his eyes indifferent yet smiling on his face.
The irritable Michael shut his mouth, bowing his head and staring at his own hands, as if plunging back into his own world.
Lynch shrugged, stood up, towering over Michael. "I came here to tell you that our grudges are almost over."
"You'll get what you deserve, and don't worry too much about your kid; he'll have plenty of boyfriends in prison…"
Michael erupted again, grabbing Lynch's collar, while Lynch raised his hands.
Although the lion was wounded, it remained a lion.
Lynch showed no fear despite Michael's ferocity. With a teasing tone, he said, "If I were you, I'd let go. You and your son have paid for your mistakes, but think about your wife…"
In the next moment, Michael's fierce gaze turned pale instantly. The lion might be fearsome, but it was no match for the hunter.
Lynch adjusted his collar, jokingly adding, "Alright, I've said what I wanted. Have a pleasant vacation, Mr. Michael."
As Lynch's footsteps receded, Michael stiffly turned his head, watching Lynch vanish into the sunset's glow at the end of the corridor. It seemed as if his consciousness, in that moment of Lynch blending into the radiance, was engulfed by the light.
He felt like drowning—incapable of breathing!
Even though he was in the light!
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