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Chapter 206: The Inevitable Pain of Growing Up
According to research by sociologists in the federation, children living in economically disadvantaged neighborhoods had a much harder time finding viable paths in life compared to those in better-off areas.
Joining a criminal gang was one of their few available options.
Starting as juvenile delinquents and eventually joining formal gangs, this culture of crime accompanied their growth, seeping into their very bones. They may not live a long life, but crime would always be a part of it.
Even if a few could avoid joining gangs, they would not be able to sever their ties with them, as this was their life.
To some extent, in such a lower-class society, one's criminal experience and gang status became standards for measuring success.
It was unfortunate, but that was life. No amount of effort could open doors for them.
The trio being arrested and released earned them considerable fame in their neighborhood, and even the way some kids looked at them changed.
Previously, they might have had a bit of a reputation, but now they were celebrities. And celebrities needed to do things that matched their status.
"We could hire a truck. They wouldn't expect us to go right back at it after just getting out."
This acquittal emboldened them further, and they had a natural premonition that they might become the founders of a new gang.
The previous gang on this street had disappeared due to a crackdown on financial crimes, and what followed was the economic downturn. People became busy with their own lives and had no time for other matters, resulting in the absence of any established gangs on this street.
If they could successfully score some money from the warehouse, they would qualify to form a gang, exciting the hot-headed young men greatly.
To people here, gangs were just another type of job. They were loyal to the gang leader, did dangerous tasks, and thus earned a stable income – it was a job.
Moreover, young people growing up in this environment often had dreams to become a gang member. In their dreams, gangs were not evil; they were more like disciplined Robin Hood organizations, positive and just, though this was not the case in reality.
Becoming a gang leader was also one of the children's dreams here.
But one of the young men had a different view, "We've been caught twice already. Maybe they'll arrest us again. I don't think those guys from yesterday are easy to mess with."
He was talking about the people who caught them. He sensed a natural fear towards them, like a mouse facing a cat.
The hot-headed young man dismissed it with a sneer, "They're businessmen. Businessmen fear people like us the most. We may not be a match for the rich, but when we have no fear, they will fear us."
In the Baylor Federation, there was no saying exactly like “those with nothing to lose are not intimidated by those who have more," but there was a similar consensus – "the rich hate trouble, but the poor don't fear it."
This was also the reason why there were still so many gangs in today's society. When people were driven to desperation, they would do anything. The poor had nothing left to lose; they could endure serious consequences and take risks, resorting to crime as a means to gain money by disregarding the law, and inevitably harming others.
The rich, on the other hand, often prefered to give away a little money for continued stability.
The hot-headed young man looked at the blue overall worker. Feeling uncomfortable under the gaze, the blue overall worker reluctantly nodded, "I'll go along with it."
"Then it's settled. I'll gather the people," the hot-headed young man made the final decision, then got up to find a truck and helpers.
Thanks to their release, many young men on the street were eager to follow them, making it easy to find some subordinates.
The blue overall worker and another young man were actually reluctant to proceed this way, but at this point, if they backed out, they would become a laughingstock on the street by tomorrow, and their reputation would be ruined.
Under the call of the hot-headed young man, they somehow managed to get what looked like a nearly scrapped old truck. Then, gathering five other young people from the streets, they set off together under the cover of night.
As soon as they left, Lynch got the news and was furious.
Before he could decide how to handle these people, they once again tested his bottom line. Prior to this, he always carried with him a special way of treating the world, but clearly, the world did not always reciprocate with kindness.
Around ten at night, the truck was forced to a stop on the road near the warehouse district. Before these young men could react, they were subdued by a group of recently discharged soldiers.
When they woke up, they were already tied to chairs.
The blue overall worker was the first to wake up, which was surprising but also expected. He was the fittest among them.
Long hours of physical labor had taken a toll on him, but also given him a strong physique. When he regained consciousness, a sharp headache caused a brief memory lapse.
But he quickly remembered, and his heart immediately sank.
He looked around and discovered that he seemed to be in a place that looked like a simple warehouse. With a bulb hanging overhead swaying slightly in the breeze, casting moving shadows on the walls, the place looked extremely eerie.
He then saw his companions, all tied to chairs like him. He called out a few times, and they gradually woke up too.
As they were still unclear about what had happened, they heard increasingly clear footsteps from outside, and fell silent.
A man soon appeared at the border between light and darkness with the light not reaching above his knees, mostly illuminating his shiny shoes.
A few tough-looking young men stood at attention beside him – the same ones who had subdued them.
"What should I do with you?" The man’s voice sounded cold in the empty warehouse, with a faint echo.
"In my hometown, there's a saying, 'A person can be forgiven once, twice, but should not make the same mistake a third time.'"
"This is your third attempt to steal from my warehouse. This time, I won't forgive you."
The familiar scene made the young men think of classic film climaxes, where the villains would raise their guns in the dark and kill them one by one.
For a moment, everyone's hair stood on end. The blue overall worker shouted in panic, "You can’t kill us! That’s against the law!"
Another young man also told Lynch that first-degree murder was a serious crime in the Federation, and killing so many people at once would get even a rich man like Lynch a death sentence.
Their reactions amused Lynch, "I won't kill anyone. I just want to teach you a lesson, to show you that the world isn't as kind as you think."
"Break their legs. Give our young friends a lesson."
The staff sergeant beside him hesitated, but ultimately chose to obey. He didn't think it was wrong, and Lynch was his boss, so he had to follow orders.
His hesitation was because he had never considered that one day his opponents would be civilians.
He picked up a steel pipe, common in the warehouse, and walked into the light, wearing a dust mask and a baseball cap, only his eyes showing.
Standing before the blue overall worker, he ignored his pleas and tried to lift his legs. He wasn't the one making decisions, just following orders.
The blue overall worker fiercely resisted. He pleaded and struggled, promising never to do it again. Others joined in begging for mercy, while some cursed Lynch.
Lynch ignored them and told the soldiers, "Go help him."
He was referring to the staff sergeant, as the blue overall worker’s resistance made it hard to hit accurately. Luckily, another soldier helped.
That soldier brought over a chair, wedged it under the blue overall worker’s legs to keep them straight.
The staff sergeant raised the steel pipe high and swung it hard.
It made a distinctive sound, unlike the crisp crack of bones in films. This was more muffled, like a thickly wrapped dry stick breaking.
Right after the muffled crunch was the blue overall worker’s painful scream.
His screams of agony frightened the others, causing them to tremble in fear, their noses running and tears streaming down their faces.
The staff sergeant looked back at Lynch, feeling his hands tremble, but Lynch remained unaffected, even lighting a cigarette. "Continue, don't look at me..."
The continuous sound of bones breaking echoed through the warehouse. The hot-headed young man who cursed the loudest also got special treatment. He had been cursing Lynch throughout, unlike the others who begged. He seemed defiant, even threatening revenge.
To teach him a deeper lesson, his kneecaps were completely shattered.
After the soldiers finished, Lynch tossed his cigarette butt onto the ground and casually pressed his expensive shoes, worth hundreds of bucks, down to crush the cigarette out. "Remember, this is the last time. Next time, you'll face hell."
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