Darkstone Code

If it had been half a year ago, Lynch saying Nell's coworkers were a bunch of thieves would likely have enraged the honest man, causing him to slap the table and point at Lynch's nose, telling him how ridiculous his words were.

Those people aren't thieves; they're just unfortunate souls who can't see a future due to life's pressures, merely struggling to survive. If they're thieves, they only stole hope.

But at this moment, Nell didn't feel any anger at the word thief; at most, he felt some discomfort, some displeasure, slightly dissatisfied with Lynch's remarks.

The change in his social status has already begun to help him say goodbye to his past life. A new big house, a car of his own, and even a walk-in closet he never dreamed of, filled with respectable suits and accessories.

These changes were like a sharp dagger, completely cutting off the past from the present.

He nodded, "Yes, I know about that incident. I'm lucky I didn't join them. Is the case finished?"

Nell knew what Lynch was doing; he would obtain the houses that the factory owner might sell through litigation and then return these houses to those "uncles" in another way.

He found Lynch somewhat stingy, somewhat unfamiliar; he could simply give these houses to the workers without any loss to himself.

The case was inherently somewhat complex because it involved a group of workers, a factory, and a boss, tangled in three lawsuits, presenting a power issue.

Whose rights take precedence, whose are delayed, it takes a process and time. Fortunately, Lynch performed well during this period, and the judge gave him the highest priority citing Lynch's complete evidence and procedures.

Because he signed sales contracts and liability documents with those workers, everything was very complete, without any controversial points, so the lawsuit was tried and executed first.

Lynch confirmed this, "It's about to enter the execution process soon. But you know, my intention is to help these uncles..."

Nell couldn't hold back anymore, "Exploitation isn't help. I believe if you think exploitation is help, they'd rather not have your help!"

When it came to those old pals he'd worked with for many years, Nell couldn't yet treat them with the same indifference he showed to ordinary workers. He was already learning to be indifferent, but not mature yet.

Lynch smiled, looking at Nell, "But if I don't help them, they'll be chased onto the street by the police and bankers."

"Accept my help, and they can still have a home; refuse my help, and they'll end up with destroyed homes and ruined lives. Do you know what 'destroyed homes and ruined lives' mean?"

Lynch patiently explained the meaning of the phrase to his less-educated father, "They'll be pitiful. The older children will go astray, join gangs, become thugs, or become performers in strip clubs on the street, showcasing their bodies for their uncles or even family."

"Their wives will divorce them, or perhaps not, but you know, there's no love among the homeless. Their private lives will become decadent, and they might even crawl into others' sleeping bags in winter to seek warmth."

"Ultimately, they'll have nothing, plagued by illnesses, with not even a bit of money to see a doctor, they can only...", Lynch glanced at the tray Serra brought in, with some beef ribs in it.

His bright smile was the polar opposite of his previous words, and he stopped, sniffing, "Smells good, can I taste it before we start?"

Serra, a typical ordinary housewife, had lost a lot in life, making her easily pleased and satisfied.

Facing her son's request, she smiled happily, "Of course, I hope you won't find it not to your taste!"

Lynch then picked up a beef rib about the length of a palm, ate it with big bites, and didn't forget to lick the bone and his fingers. The thick sauce emitted a rich aroma. Ordinary families would highlight salty and saucy flavors in their cooking.

This is because they lack advanced cooking techniques to make the food have multiple layers of flavor changes, so emphasizing oil, salt, and sauce becomes important.

"Very delicious, I'm looking forward to the other dishes!" Lynch's generous praise delighted Serra even more, and she couldn't help but walk over to Lynch, pressing her cheek against his forehead, not using her hands because they were a bit damp, and Lynch's clothes were very expensive.

"Of course, of course, they're all your favorites, wait for me a moment!"

After watching Serra leave, Lynch withdrew his gaze, "Where were we?"

Nell didn't know whether to appear more indifferent or act normal; he held his face stiff, lips moving slightly, and said somewhat sarcastically, "You explained what 'destroyed homes and ruined lives' means."

"Ah! Yes, it was indeed so." Lynch quickly continued the earlier conversation. He actually knew but intentionally asked this to deepen Nell's impression of the term and everything he had just said.

When the impression deepens to a certain point, it becomes a subconscious default knowledge.

Lynch rubbed his fingers, feeling a bit sticky (zhan·nian), and while wiping his fingers with a napkin from the table, he continued, "Besides, none of this comes without a cost — the litigation fees, the cost of gathering evidence, the cost of smoothing relationships. You only saw the result; you don't know how much effort and price I paid for it, so I don't think my actions are excessive."

"Compared to letting them wander the streets, I've been very merciful!"

Nell couldn't help but mockingly say, "You're truly merciful!" His emotional change stemmed from two aspects: one was that people tend to reminisce about the past when they are well off, so he leaned more towards the workers on this issue.

The second aspect was that the relationship between him and Lynch seemed somewhat reversed now. Lynch's explanation made him feel like he was being lectured by a child, which was a bit hard to swallow for Nell, who came from an ordinary family.

But in his heart, he was still persuaded by Lynch, so he asked, "What do you want me to do?"

Lynch placed the napkin back on the table, his fingers smooth again, and shrugged, "Soon the court will auction their houses. Convince those workers not to cause trouble; we need to keep things under our control. Can you understand that?"

Nell roughly understood, nodding with a serious attitude. This concerned the future life of his former coworkers, even if they no longer kept in touch; he didn't want things to be done too harshly.

After discussing serious matters, they started talking about Nell's new life. At this time, Nell became more talkative, and his mood was much livelier. He talked mostly about his interests.

In the back room, he specifically set aside a room that was converted into a workshop, containing various tools and two small desktop machine tools.

Some of the furniture and small decorations in the house were crafted by his own hands. Sometimes, there's something intriguing about these matters.

While working hard, he felt annoyed by his job, as if those works were the source of his misery.

But when he could enjoy a better life without needing to work, he suddenly found that he still loved those workpieces, including those tools.

As they chatted, Serra brought all the dishes to the table, and the family sat together, drinking wine, chatting, in harmonious merriment.

Until... Lynch's departure.

The cost of growing up was indeed too great. Clearly family, suddenly turned into "relatives," intimate people begin to become distant. Perhaps this is the helplessness of growth, an inevitable process.

With Nell's help, the workers didn't cause a scene after learning the trial results; they just sent two people to represent them and talk to Lynch.

With Nell as the intermediary, Lynch wouldn't be too harsh in his demands. Overall, everyone could accept such a result.

After all, they broke the law, and solving the problem without bearing too great a cost, actually puts them at an advantage. Not everyone is as easy-going and considerate as Lynch; one should know how to be content.

Although everything seemed to be completed well, Lynch understood that some things would inevitably undergo unexpected changes.

If not now, then in the future; someone will eventually stir things up, but he wasn't too concerned. That's a matter for later.

In the upcoming period, he was busy with business matters, making everything organized. In mid-March, he boarded a ship with more than fifty Darkstone Security Company bodyguards to Nagariel.

Watching the coastline fade away, then disappear on the horizon, Lynch turned around and walked forward against the sea breeze, his steps steady and composed.

It took about ten days to travel by sea and land from the Bail Federal to Nagariel, which was already quite fast for this era, yet Lynch was still somewhat dissatisfied.

However, this backward mode of transportation had its advantages; at least the transmission of some information was very slow, which is especially crucial in certain matters.

On April 1st, an ordinary, unremarkable day, the ship docked at an external port in Nagariel. A shiny leather shoe left the gangway and landed on Nagariel's soil.

The hot climate accompanied by various stench and the fishy sea wind whipped up a heatwave. Lynch unbuttoned his coat, smiling at the backward city, taking a deep breath.

That's the scent of wealth!