"Currently, relevant agencies have confird that due to the recent earthquake, the radioactive materials at XX Nuclear Power Plant have leaked externally, resulting in a severe nuclear accident."
"The governnt of that country is discussing how to handle this batch of nuclear waste. According to insiders, the treatnt thod might include discharging the pollutants into the ocean for dilution."
Leo blurted out, "Bastards!"
The latest news was playing on the TV, and Leo instinctively cursed.
With his background in the nuclear industry, he couldn't hold back after hearing about such a treatnt thod.
Pollutants must be treated to et safety standards before being buried or discharged. How could it sound like they're planning to skip that step?
(For narrative purposes only; please do not associate this with reality.)
"Leo! Watch your language! And there's a guest in the house!" Maya imdiately tapped his bowl with her chopsticks.
"Uh, I an... I..." Leo was a bit frustrated, as he couldn't think of a word to describe this thod without cursing.
In his world, just like in the world of Cyberpunk 2077, many nuclear experints were conducted in the oceans, with nuclear waste and even radioactive pollutants being discharged into the sea.
These actions contributed significantly to the shrinking of habitable space for humanity in the decades that followed. But those people had long enjoyed their lives and passed away, leaving a ss for the younger generation, who were then dubbed the "Dood Generation," a title that was both laughable and tragic.
Matt, sitting nearby, defended Leo, saying, "This behavior is obviously highly irresponsible. Honestly, I think they deserve all the curses they get."
Maya nodded, "Yes, but swearing is wrong. You need to learn to use civil language."
Leo quietly resud eating. It seed that everyone agreed on this issue, but when with family and kids, one should mind their language.
As he ate, Leo silently vowed to resolve this matter if he ever got the chance.
The dim light flickered slightly, suggesting unstable power, casting a subdued glow over the quiet dining table.
After speaking, Maya discreetly wiped her eyes and said, "I really wish your father could see this mont."
Leo fell silent because he had no mory of his father. All he knew ca from so records at ho: his father was once a cook and later beca a truck driver.
During Leo's coma, his father worked overti to earn extra money and was involved in an accident.
Sighing, Leo felt a bit lancholic.
Two lives, and both tis his parents were so similar.
Leo thought for a mont and decided to speak frankly: "Mom, I want to know how much debt we still have?"
Maya hesitated for a mont, unsure of how to respond.
Leo shrugged, "Don't worry, I just need to have a number in my head. I think I can learn a few things from Matt to help ease the burden at ho. Knowing the amount will give more motivation."
Matt paused briefly and then very cooperatively said, "Yes, I think Leo is very... observant and quick-witted. He might even make a good lawyer soday."
To Maya, this sounded a bit far-fetched, considering Leo had only completed half of high school, and college was almost out of the question.
Even community college was unlikely.
But she forced a smile and said, "Leo... you don't need to worry about that. Focus on getting better first. But many people in our community have helped us. Rember what your father used to say: Be grateful and help each other."
"Thank you, Mr. Murdock, but I still hope Leo can focus on recovering."
Hearing this, Leo felt a bit uncomfortable.
After all, he was the only one confident that he could survive. His condition was so severe that even Maya didn't believe he had much ti left.
Maya probably hoped that Leo could live as happily as possible for the rest of his days.
Leo nodded, "I will, Mom. Matt, I rember you said you had sothing else to discuss with —shall I walk you out?"
"Uh, sure. Thank you for the hospitality, Mrs. Lee. If you need any help, don't hesitate to call ."
"Oh, okay." Maya hesitated, originally planning to walk Matt out herself. But on second thought, staying cooped up at ho might not be the best idea either.
"Alright then... take it slow, and co right back. It's not safe outside."
"Sure thing."
...
The apartnt building at 441 West 40th Street, this was Leo's ho, the place he rented.
As he stepped out, he saw the landlord from earlier trying to scrub the graffiti off the walls, muttering curses under his breath.
The landlord appeared to be an immigrant, and his English didn't sound native.
When he saw Leo and Matt heading out together, he greeted them warmly.
In Leo's mory, the family used to own a house, but it must have been sold.
As they walked, Matt spoke to Leo:
"Mr. Ricaldo is a good man. This building houses eight families, all immigrants, including yours, from all over."
"He only rents to foreign immigrants with no criminal records. According to him, he himself is an immigrant, and when you co to a strange land, you should help each other."
"He's an immigrant too?"
"He's Arican, but old Ricaldo was an immigrant. He's a fellow countryman of your mother, both from Latveria."
Leo paused, his mind quickly flashing through old mories.
Latveria? So his mom is from the sa place as Doctor Doom?
But there was no ntion of King Doom in his mories, and Latveria was still a feudal microstate.
Leo said, "That's a good thing—I was just thinking that we should unite as a community."
In the United States, land ownership is private, so theoretically, as long as the owner doesn't cooperate, even soone like Kingpin can't just bulldoze and rebuild.
So-called slum redevelopnt can only be carried out under extre circumstances, such as now, when the internet bubble has long burst, and the real estate market has completely collapsed.
People lose their jobs, can't pay their mortgages, can't pay their property taxes, credit collapses, and everyone lives in fear.
But not everyone is like that—there will always be people who tighten their belts, like Mr. Ricaldo, an honest, frugal old landlord.
Massive infrastructure projects are a way to boost the economy. It's clear that Kingpin has convinced the politicians.
But how does he plan to convince stubborn holdouts like Ricaldo?
Matt gave Leo another surprised look. "That's a good idea. We should definitely unite. But... when the redevelopnt project first started, a hoowners' association just four blocks from here disbanded."
"The reason? The association's president died. A toothpick was found in his throat, causing tracheal bleeding that led to his death at ho."
"Since then, two other nearby association presidents have died in the sa way: a toothpick."
"The work of United Construction?"
"No evidence." Matt spoke calmly, but inside, he was anything but. "The NYPD believes there's insufficient evidence to prove it was a homicide, so they ruled that the unfortunate president accidentally fell, and the toothpick just happened to pierce his throat."
"But..."
"But although there's no evidence at the scene, the sa thod of death happening repeatedly isn't a coincidence. That's exactly what those guys want to achieve. Everyone knows it's the work of the mob, but the NYPD doesn't—has the NYPD closed the case?"
Matt nodded, "The case is closed. But I know there are people within the departnt who are not happy about it, though they have their own areas of responsibility."
"What about your prosecutor friend? If there were enough evidence, would he file for a retrial?"
"Of course—if there were evidence."
As they reached the intersection, Matt stopped, and so did Leo.
Facing each other, Matt sincerely asked Leo:
"Leo, this is very dangerous. Are you sure you want to get involved? Selfishly, I really hope soone will stand up against the criminals, whether it's in the Kate Logistics case or the recent issues in Hell's Kitchen. But when I think about the fact that you're just a kid who's been in a coma for two and a half years, I know I must advise you to go ho. At least... then you'll still have a ho."
There's no good outco from opposing the mob. Even working for them doesn't usually end well.
You have to choose between your conscience and your life; more often than not, you lose both.
Leo shook his head, "Precisely because I still have a ho, I must try to control the situation before things get worse. In the doctors' eyes, I've been unconscious for two and a half years, but I was aware, and my mind was filled with fear. I was afraid I had lost everything I had, that having nothing left would be my fate."
"But now, I'm standing here, talking to you. I have a family that loves , a kind landlord, and other good people in the community. People are driven by emotions, and if I wait until it's too late, I believe the fear and regret that drove to wake up will drive to do sothing."
"But now, I just hope I'm always driven by kindness, love, and other beautiful things."
Matt was stunned. He couldn't believe these words were coming from an 18-year-old—actually, soone who was ntally still only 15.
People spend their whole lives tornted by the loss of precious things, just like Matt himself—he lost his sight, his family, and now, is he still driven by justice? Maybe it's more about revenge.
"It's kind of absurd," Matt said with a forced smile. "But maybe from the start, I had this feeling. I thought you might be soone who could handle this kind of risk, which is why I told you so much."
"Let's use a different word. I prefer to call it responsibility."
Leo turned his gaze, looking past the holess people with tattered clothes, the leaking manhole covers, the filthy streets, and the shady punks...
All the way to the glittering skyscrapers of Manhattan.
Cyberpunk 2077 is a twisted and oppressive world, but here, is it really a bright and easy reality?
If you don't want to change the status quo, the status quo will change you; if you don't want to put in the effort, soone will force you to, pushing you in a direction you never wanted to go.
Leo silently recalled many things from his past life, and Matt also fell silent.
Then Leo suddenly said:
"The light's green."
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