Life is so... bizarre.
Forr Director Johnson never imagined that he’d be close to retirent, yet suddenly have a new child, a little boy.
He thought he wouldn’t feel much for the little boy, after all, he’s so old now, unable to be a good father, and has seen too many of society’s complex and cold sides. He wouldn’t maintain much "family affection" with the little boy.
But when he saw the baby holding onto his finger, looking at him, his heart was touched.
He’s not a strong person, not a rough person, rather sotis he might seem... well, maybe weak. Previously, the folks at the bureau would privately comnt on him not being tough enough, which ans weak?
He also has a delicate side, his inner emotions at that mont were ignited by a new life.
A fla that disappeared from his life for decades was rekindled, and after he returned, he had a candid talk with his wife, sharing these matters. Now he and his wife are separated.
His wife and his other children still live in Sabin City. They’ve lived there for many years—life, work, relatives, and friends—all necessary social interactions are over there, plus these matters, they didn’t co over.
Living at the capital now is just Johnson alone, along with Michael’s wife and that little life.
In the morning, sunlight pierced through the thick atmosphere casting golden glow upon the ground. Director Johnson slowly opened his eyes, and the first thing he did upon waking was to check on his child in the baby room.
Seeing him sleeping sweetly, Johnson couldn’t suppress a smile on his face, he gently touched the child’s little cheek with his rough finger.
He didn’t know how to describe that feeling. At first, he felt no sensation, he was too old, and both flesh and nerves were too aged, aged to the point he barely felt his finger touching anything.
But now, with the help of so peculiar force, he could feel that the soft, cloud-like little cheek slightly indented beneath his touch.
"You truly are an angel!" He pulled back his hand, fearing he might hurt this little guy, with undisguised affection overflowing from his eyes.
His awakening also stirred the woman beside him. She stood by the door watching Johnson and the child in the crib, feeling sowhat complex, sowhat subtle, but overall at least she and her eldest son can live as they did in the past.
You can’t expect a young woman who has never had social experience nor any special skills to look for a job, especially at tis like this.
Besides obtaining a laborious job exchanging dignity for money to sustain herself and the child, it’s difficult for them to do anything else.
Fortunately, there is Johnson.
Young Michael has now transferred to a private school in the capital. Johnson, being a consultant researcher at the State Tax Bureau, leveraged this relationship, and a decent private school in the capital granted Young Michael a full scholarship, waiving all his educational expenses.
A completely new environnt helps young Michael reshape his personality, his psychologist said so.
Speaking of psychologists, she had to thank her current partner, Johnson. The combination of power and wealth in this world functions like an omnipotent pass card. Under the guidance of the new psychologist, Young Michael gradually beca more cheerful, except sotis he would sit dazedly at her dressing mirror.
Perhaps Johnson’s fingertip gave the baby so sensation waking him from sleep, or maybe the clean and clear sky reflected the light startling him, he started to cry out.
The woman imdiately walked over, unabashedly undid the belt of her robe, exposing breakfast, she carefully picked up the child, feeding and soothing him.
Watching the mother and child as well as feeling the pulse of a "family" nurturing new life, Johnson’s face bore another smile.
If only there wasn’t the doorbell ringing.
"I’ll go see who’s there..." He gently closed the baby room’s door before leaving, quickly moving to the entrance to open the door.
This is a mid-range community where all residents are middle class and governnt-employed officials. The community’s security is strong, and all facilities are decent. He wasn’t worried about anyone causing trouble, those hooligans couldn’t even get in.
It’s just at the mont the door was opened, his expression slightly froze and then slowly faded away.
"Looks like I’m not very welco." Lynch’s smile was as warm as the sun, not too dazzling but truly golden, "Mr. Johnson, you seem sowhat unsatisfied with my arrival?"
"Unsatisfied?"
"No, not at all, we’re good friends, rember? You said so!" Johnson took a deep breath, stepped forward two steps, conveniently blocking the middle of the door fra.
His behavior indicated he wasn’t welcoming Lynch inside, "Shall we... take a walk?" He suggested.
Lynch glanced inside the house, then withdrew his gaze. There was a woman and a baby inside, he knew about these.
Money can solve many issues in the Federation, including probing into so secrets others don’t know.
He didn’t an to pressure Johnson. After nodding, the two of them strolled along the community road.
"Gentlen, good morning..."
A lady walking towards them paused her gaze on Lynch’s face for a mont, then greeted them. The two gentlen responded simultaneously.
A half-grown boy delivering newspapers on his bicycle wore a happy smile, while an old man trimming the lawn struggled with a lawnmower and chided a little dog treating it as a monster to fight. Not far away, a middle-aged hoowner was chatting with a neighbor while watering the flowers about to bloom in the yard.
Everything was bathed in sunlight, as if this place had beco the most wonderful spot on earth, with no worries, no troubles, everyone polite and gracious...
Lynch withdrew his attention from the surroundings and looked at the end of the street ahead, walking aimlessly forward, "Did you know old Fox was taken by the State Tax Bureau yesterday?"
Johnson’s foot, half-raised to step down, paused. Just in that mont, he fell a step behind Lynch, quickly catching up, and denied, "I rarely go to the Tax Bureau, I don’t have any specific tasks to do, typically only going there when soone calls us for help."
"Other than that, I almost only go when it’s payday, so I’m not really clear about what you’re talking about."
Mr. Old Fox was Lynch’s partner. It wasn’t much of a secret; nearly everyone in Sabin City knew about his relationship with Lynch.
Upon suddenly hearing that Old Fox had been taken by the State Tax Bureau, Johnson’s first thought was of a forr case.
After all, it caused such a stir back then that even the Federal Tax Administration Bureau and the Cabinet made statents, and it happened right in his jurisdiction at the ti. He couldn’t possibly forget!
It was just that, caught in the pressure of public opinion, they ultimately decided to call it quits and reconcile. But it was a fact that Lynch caused the Tax Bureau to lose face, sothing that truly happened. Maybe so would forget, but others would rember.
Now soone wanted to settle the score with them, and the current consultant researcher Mr. Johnson even found it quite normal.
As one of the Federation’s most unique departnts, it holds grudges.
Feeling a strange wave internally, without waiting for Lynch to speak, Johnson proactively said, "I’d love to help you, but look at now, I have nothing, not even the right to speak."
"So I’m sorry, I can’t help you much with this."
He distanced himself early, unwilling to get caught in the whirlpool.
For Johnson now, watching his youngest son grow little by little and experiencing a sense of new life was his greatest joy.
And he was about to receive a monthly pension of $750, enough for his family to continue living here, and he didn’t want to regret any issues.
Lynch had a smile on his face, tilting his head to glance at the old man half a head shorter than himself, "No, you can help , you just need to do two things for ."
Johnson frowned, reiterating, "Listen, I..."
Lynch stopped, looked at him, his smile gradually fading, surprisingly giving off a severe and intimidating vibe, "Director Johnson, I respect you, but I also hope you respect . Please don’t interrupt my words before I finish speaking, okay?"
eting Johnson’s eyes, Lynch made him, who intended to refuse again, feel a different kind of pressure. Johnson was silent for a few seconds, looked away, and nodded, "Sorry, I shouldn’t have interrupted you."
Lynch’s smile returned to his face, and he continued walking forward, with Johnson closely trailing behind him.
"I want you to help with two things."
"First, find out who’s pushing these matters from behind, who’s in charge of the work here... hmm, this might turn into two tasks, but I believe that once you find either answer, the other will naturally erge."
"The second thing, help get a ssage to Old Fox, tell him I always rember our friendship, and also wish our friendship long live."
Lynch said, spreading his hands, "See, two very simple things, would you refuse ?"
Even though Lynch wasn’t looking at Johnson, the latter still felt an uncomfortable sensation, as if a gaze were fixed on him.
In a daze, he felt like he was a rabbit on a hillside, surrounded by a seemingly peaceful and blissful scene, yet feeling a constant thrill of fear.
For a rabbit, the danger cos from above.
For him, the danger cos from beside him.
After about seventeen, eighteen, or nineteen seconds, Johnson reluctantly said, "I’ll try..."
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