Darkstone Code

Chapter 669 - 0666 Natural Protection

The bigwigs don’t want to get directly involved.

There’s no doubt about that. How did they capture the people from Henghui back then?

The local investigation bureau, tax bureau, police station, along with the Security Committee, all responded, giving no chance to the Henghui executives, capturing them all, and throwing them into a secret prison.

Then they announced some case progress to the public, and eventually, those people all confessed their mistakes in front of a judge.

It’s noteworthy that the trials are not open to the public. In other words, no one knows if those standing on the defendant stand that day were truly the executives of Henghui Group, or if it’s just an "act."

It was almost the same when Ristone collapsed, with the local investigation bureau, tax bureau, police station all responding, giving no chances at all.

But look now, only the State Tax Bureau is running this case. The police chief knows someone is pulling strings behind this, but this matter certainly won’t yield the results they want.

If a special agent from the State Tax Bureau, or rather a State Tax Bureau, can bring down a big company, the Federation would have achieved equality for everyone.

"Whose call is it?"

Fern sat on the sofa chatting with a young, beautiful girl about provocative topics. A few years ago, they were trembling in the shadows of the headlines, but now they dress in formal attire, frequent upscale places, and enjoy all sorts of pleasures.

All this is because they followed the right person.

The more someone has suffered, the more they understand the preciousness of sweetness, and the less they want to return to bitter days.

This is different from those children born with a silver spoon, starting life in a honeypot, not having tasted bitterness, leading them to sometimes naively believe that bitterness is the truth of life, and yearn for it.

Of course, they do have the capital to be willful, but not every regret after a whim can be satisfied.

The Green brothers never thought of starting their own business or anything; they’re not cut out for that. Their connections with the city’s bigwigs are all founded on the link with "Mr. Lynch."

Without Lynch, no one would meet them. Simultaneously, their money, status, and everything come from Lynch; they don’t even have the foundation to have ambition.

A life without burdens is actually very joyful.

Noel, with a cigarette in his mouth, tying up a stack of much-concerned money with a rubber band, tossed it on the table, as the end of the month was near, everyone should split the cash.

The eyes of others in the room turned to the stacks of money on the table, not knowing which share was theirs, but they all wanted the biggest one.

"It’s the police chief..." He raised his hand, took the cigarette out of his mouth, squinted slightly, tilted his head to blow out smoke, not wanting to be smoked out, "He said someone is investigating us. I need to talk to Mr. Lynch."

He pointed to the door, and everyone in the room stood up and left. Whether they were willing or not, they had to comply because this was the Green brothers’ privilege.

They dared to kill, dared to arrange others to kill, regardless of whether it was those kids back then or the later ones and adults, all feared these two teenagers.

Nowadays, there are plenty of people who speak harshly, but few who dare to act because the Federation is a nation governed by law—that’s no joke!

Only Noel and Fern were left in the room, even Fern’s companion was driven out.

Noel adjusted his clothes, took a deep breath, and picked up the phone.

Everyone says he’s ruthless, seeing fear in their eyes when they look at him, but when facing Lynch, he is scared too.

For some unknown reason, he’s just afraid, regardless of whether Lynch is angry or smiling. He instills fear in the two brothers, possibly because they sense a fiercer aura from Lynch.

After the phone rang a few times, it was picked up, with Lynch’s warm voice coming through, "This is Lynch..."

Noel, originally sitting in the chair, got nervous upon hearing his voice, stood up, held his forehead, and whispered by the window, "Mr. Lynch, it’s Noel. Just now, the police chief of Sabin City called me, saying someone is investigating us."

"Investigating you guys, what is there to investigate?" Lynch was slightly surprised but quickly realized, "Is it someone from the State Tax Bureau?"

"I’m not sure." Noel honestly replied, not daring to lie.

Lynch’s voice didn’t change much, but Noel sensed some anger in his last half-sentence; perhaps it was innate intuition?

Lynch chuckled a few times; someone investigating him boldly in his territory wasn’t merely a humiliation, it concerned survival.

If anyone could attempt investigations here and spread explosive news from him, Sabin City would become chaotic.

If he didn’t handle it, others would perceive him as fearful, less formidable than imagined, unable to sound a voice even when harmed.

Look at how usually Federation capitalists act; if an ordinary person takes even an extra penny, they’ll spend tens of thousands suing until the person is bankrupt.

Towards the Federation Government, they strike aggressively, stir up public opinion, directly bribe the high-tiers to remove those people or support their political opponents without limits.

After half a minute of silence, Lynch made a decision, "I heard Sabin City recently keeps having traffic accidents, good thing no one died, be careful when you travel."

Noel nodded forcefully, "I’ll know what to do, Mr. Lynch, also the chief sends his regards to you."

"I know..."

After hanging up, Noel looked at Fern, and with one glance, they understood each other’s thoughts, being true brothers.

Fern briskly headed for the door, took his coat from the hanger and put it on before leaving the office.

Meanwhile, the pale-faced man from the police station was fretting on the street.

The local law enforcement’s non-cooperation made him uneasy, underestimating Lynch’s position within the local government and overestimating the State Tax Bureau’s reputation here.

He had already enlisted the Assistant Director of the State Tax Bureau to contact the FBI to issue a coordination notice and a statewide bounty for the headline.

There was little hope in finding the headline itself; maybe the bastard had already fled to another state or as Michael surmised, had been dealt with by Lynch.

This was merely an attempt; the real cracking method had to focus on those newsboys.

He looked at the files in hand, picking out a child, a girl.

This girl has biological parents, with two older brothers above her, all sent as child workers to different places by those parents, having a stable family background and being a girl, should make her easier to break.

He quickly decided to get in the car; the car started smoothly, and he adeptly monitored the surroundings through the rearview mirror. When crossing the second intersection, a car rushing through a red light suddenly hit his.

The massive impact instantly blanked his mind, propelling him from the driver’s seat to the passenger seat.

Luckily, the other party applied the brakes in time, or else it’s hard to imagine what tragic end would be.

While checking his body, ensuring no bleeding, suddenly someone approached the passenger window, whispering, "We braked this time, but next time we won’t."

"This is not your territory; you’d better go back to where you came from, you’re not welcome here..."

When he abruptly turned to look at the speaker, the individual had already turned and quickly left.

The pale-face struggled to catch up but fell to the ground as soon as he pushed the car door open; the severe impact led to temporary loss of balance, struggling twice without getting up, finally giving up.

Before long, police and ambulances arrived simultaneously. He grasped a police officer’s hand, pointing at the driver who was now wounded in another car, saying, "He did it on purpose, he did it on purpose!"

"This is murder!"

He was truly frightened, experiencing a momentary feeling of imminent death, indescribable accurately, perhaps a biological instinct facing death, sensing life approaching its end.

He never thought he’d die in such a rural place; he’s young, with a bright future ahead, how could he die here?

But when that messenger appeared, his fear increased yet again.

Accidents couldn’t naturally happen every day, but murder could happen daily.

At this moment, he clutched the officer’s hand, constantly shouting, pointing at the driver potentially colluding with those people.

The officer dragged the driver from the car, placed him on a stretcher, shook his head at the pale-faced man, "He didn’t mean to kill you, he was just drunk..."

In the Federation, there were no laws against drinking and driving yet, as every sector, every social class, was drinking during this period.

Especially those in mid to high society, they were either drinking or on their way to drink — driving to drink.

If such laws were enacted, these people would have to spend an extra penny hiring a dedicated driver — an additional expense. They wield power not to create trouble for themselves.

There may be such laws in the future, but not now.

He stared incredulously as the police let the "murderer" leave, more absurdly finding him, "Your accent isn’t local, please show your driver’s license..."

Now, the pale-faced man truly felt a bone-deep chill; he faintly realized all of this related to his investigation of Lynch.