Chapter 110: Good Deeds Are Rewarded; Helping Others

When Johnson left Lynch’s house, his feelings and attitude toward Lynch became very complicated.

Previously, Lynch had given him a sum of money—twenty thousand Sol, which was no small amount. Lynch’s explanation was clever: it was an opportunity to take care of Michael’s family.

This softened Johnson’s dislike of Lynch considerably. No matter how he tried to convince himself, the conflict between Lynch and Michael did not escalate further. Lynch had instead taken a step back and provided money to support Michael’s family after Michael was sentenced.

Lynch wasn’t a good man, nor a decent person, yet for some reason, Johnson couldn’t bring himself to hate him outright. He felt only mild resentment.

Besides, the whole incident had started because of Michael himself. According to the media, Lynch had always been the victim.

This time, it was Michael who had initiated it. He was in prison, and for a considerable time, so he was mentally prepared.

In prison, Michael met a self-taught lawyer inmate. The man had been jailed for a minor offense, studied law on his own, and planned to take the bar exam. Even if he failed, he wouldn’t be wrongly imprisoned again.

Perhaps because both felt wronged, the inmate and Michael talked about these matters. Michael, already in prison, wondered why his child should suffer along with him.

If he took responsibility for Little Michael’s charges, his child would have a better chance at a bright future.

With this in mind, Michael contacted Johnson. Since Michael was held in a prison outside Sabin City, this change was meant to avoid recognition and revenge from inmates familiar with his status.

What should have been a simple matter became complicated.

An investigation and lawsuit triggered by a prisoner’s confession was harder than a regular confession. It required maneuvering—and considerable effort. They wanted to prove the court’s judgment was wrong, which essentially challenged the Justice Department.

Even if Michael admitted he had made Little Michael confess to crimes he hadn’t committed, the Justice Department might not accept his confession. It would signal to the public that verdicts were reached without thorough investigation, based on mere testimony—something unacceptable.

So even Michael’s desire to confess in prison was complicated, complicated enough that Johnson ultimately used the money Lynch had given him.

With Michael’s savings in the bank, they gathered fifty-five thousand Sol to handle everything, and only then did the situation turn.

Meanwhile, an intern was dismissed for dereliction of duty.

Some paperwork for Little Michael was still pending, but he could be released that afternoon. This was both good news and a new problem.

Their money was gone. Michael’s savings exhausted. Lynch’s money spent. Johnson himself had added some funds.

Michael’s wife had no work experience or skills and couldn’t support herself or the child.

Plus, Little Michael might have to transfer schools, maybe even to another city, adding another hefty expense. This shattered family was barely holding on.

Johnson was a good man, but being good didn’t mean having no limits. He could provide some help but couldn’t support them indefinitely.

He felt guilty about abandoning Michael in the end, but guilt was no excuse for endless charity. Johnson had his own family, children, and grandchildren to care for, and he needed money to live.

After retirement, losing his main income, his pension would ease life somewhat, but medical costs remained. He had to save.

Any illness could ruin a middle-class family, which is why whenever a presidential candidate promised solutions for healthcare, they gained support.

People couldn’t afford to get sick, even in a seemingly wealthy country.

Johnson needed someone to help them. At first, he considered soliciting donations from the tax bureau, but eventually gave up on the idea.

Regardless, after Michael became a suspect, the betrayals from colleagues and subordinates created irreparable rifts.

No matter who forced the decisions, reconciliation was impossible.

Forcing people to donate to Michael by authority would breed resentment—not just toward Michael, but also toward Johnson himself.

In the end, Johnson turned to Lynch and secured the money.

Twenty thousand Sol again—enough to cover one to two years if carefully budgeted.

He believed Lynch would provide more if asked, which made his feelings toward Lynch conflicted and complex.

He should despise the villain, yet he couldn’t. It was confusing and contradictory.

Once he had the money, Johnson immediately went to the bank. Since it was a transfer check, it required processing.

Johnson understood Lynch’s intention to leave a paper trail as insurance.

Watching two thousand Sol appear in an account not in his name but under his control stirred mixed feelings.

He withdrew five hundred Sol, pocketed it, then went to pick up Michael’s wife.

That afternoon, they would go together to get Little Michael released and have a meal, discussing his future plans.

Not long after, Johnson leaned against his car, smoking, deep in thought. Michael’s wife came out of the house.

He looked up, stubbed out his cigarette, and approached her.

She had put on a beautiful dress to greet Little Michael. The recent hardships had left her pale, but the prospect of welcoming a family member brought a faint, almost sickly blush to her cheeks.

Johnson might not appreciate this kind of beauty, but he sensed her helplessness and need for help.

He opened the car door for her to sit in the passenger seat, making conversation easier.

After all, looking into someone’s eyes while talking is polite; sitting in the back and speaking only through the rearview mirror would be rude.

The car started quickly. Driving while watching the road, Johnson took the money from his pocket and placed it in her hand.

“I know things are tough now. This is some living money. I’ll figure out how to cover Little Michael’s school transfer.”

She didn’t take it at first. Johnson slowed the car, turned slightly, and pressed the money into her hand.

“I don’t know what you’ll think, but the child is innocent. You have to give him hope.”

Money can represent hope—both ironic and realistic.

She was silent a moment before accepting the money, neatly folding it into her bag and whispering a soft thanks.

Johnson smiled slightly and focused on driving. They didn’t discuss lunch; they planned to eat together after picking up Little Michael.

The car soon stopped outside the regional prison. Johnson and Michael’s wife signed some documents about responsibilities and rights, then anxiously waited for Little Michael.

Whether intentional or not, during this tense wait, Michael’s wife tightly held Johnson’s hand, and neither noticed.