Chapter 239: Numbers and Life

Johny worked at the Liston daily chemical plant. Six years ago, in an accident, he and some coworkers lost parts of their skin.

Yes, skin. The gases from heated chemicals rapidly corroded their exposed skin, causing redness, blisters, and peeling.

The factory claimed the accident was caused by their errors: failure to precisely control dosages, not following standard procedures, not wearing full protective gear, and delayed accident response.

Their explanation seemed reasonable, with rules to back it up. But Johny and some others knew the truth: they followed every step exactly as required. The problem was a batch of new materials with flawed formulas from the lab.

They agreed to the factory’s version because refusal meant no compensation and facing lawsuits.

The company blamed the workers for costly losses—financial, reputational, and human.

Union lawyers told them they might win a lawsuit, but it would take two to three years and exorbitant legal fees—likely more than any payout.

Johny’s injuries worsened. One coworker suffered severe lung damage from panic-induced heavy breathing during the accident.

Eventually, under union pressure, they signed an agreement admitting fault. The company gave them some humanitarian compensation.

That money only covered initial medical costs. Within three months, Johny was discharged. His wife left him, and his children rejected him, calling him a monster and avoiding his desperate embraces.

Now he lived in a welfare home, waiting for death and being paraded out when officials visited to show his misery.

Skin loss allowed bacteria to easily infect him.

At first, he could afford care and ointments, keeping some resistance.

Now, exposed muscles had blackened with dark rings—signs of severe infection. Doctors warned if he couldn’t raise around 200,000 Sol soon, he might die anytime from sepsis or organ failure.

This was the little sunlight he would see.

Lying in the courtyard bed, Johny looked at the gray sky, thankful the company at least provided goggles so his eyes could still barely see.

Soon, he heard the director’s shouting, loud noises, even cries.

What was happening?

The mayor?

The mayor had come?

Johny moved his eyes but gave up. Even if the mayor came, it wouldn’t help him. Better to enjoy what life remained.

Normally, no one would push him outside to enjoy nature.

The next day, January 1, the whole city was shaken by the report Hell is Empty; the Devils Walk Among Us!

People had long known these groups existed but chose to ignore them. Now, confronted with harsh reality, they could no longer look away.

The mayor reacted immediately, canceling all other plans to visit the welfare home victims that morning.

Soon after, social elites, opportunists, reporters, and curious citizens gathered.

Before the crowd and cameras, the mayor expressed deep shock, anger, and distress.

The atmosphere was heavy, but they didn’t know nearby Johny found it all tiresome.

The mayor already knew this but in a different way—before, these people were just numbers in a report, small digits in a file.

No matter how dire their lives, their names didn’t appear.

Anyone seeing 11 injured wouldn’t imagine they weren’t just minor scratches or bruises.

Vivid lives dissolve into cold data, unless seen firsthand.

When Johny came to, he only caught the mayor’s last words: “Investigate thoroughly!”

After a semi-spontaneous speech, the mayor seemed satisfied, showing his resolve. Honestly, before this, he hadn’t planned to confront Neo.

In truth, the shame wasn’t just Neo and Liston’s—it was the unions, city hall, and a cold society.

Maybe for this reason, the mayor hadn’t thought to act, but Lynch had.

Johny had called Lynch yesterday about the matter; Lynch’s answer surprised him.

Lynch said it was better to admit problems than hide them. People admire those with courage, responsibility, and willingness to change, but hate silent perpetrators.

Silence cannot cover their crimes.

More importantly, this makes Liston a negative example. No matter what happens next, people will only rejoice.

Thus, today’s events unfolded. Johny hadn’t noticed that 70% of the mayor’s speech was an apology.

He apologized publicly to those tortured and mistreated over the years, to society, begged forgiveness, and vowed to hold some accountable.

His speech was a success; elites, media, and spectators applauded and waited expectantly.

But everyone’s hopes differed.

Elites hoped Liston would follow EverBright’s downfall—an opportunity for all industries.

Regional pillar companies aren’t purely beneficial. Their dominance exploits local resources endlessly, stifling smaller businesses that can never grow without competing and losing.

Now the burden on capitalists was lifting, and they had reason to celebrate.

As for others?

Reporters rejoiced at the scoop and anticipated huge social impact, personal gain, and influence.

The ordinary people simply hoped to see the wealthy and powerful suffer—nothing more.

Under Mark’s encouragement, a kind of routine began: fundraising.

It seemed that whenever misfortune struck, starting a fundraiser could turn bad luck into good fortune. Johny grew focused, eager to find out how much people would donate and how much he might get for his treatment.

At that moment, the mayor quietly slipped out of sight, moving to the edge of the crowd to stand beside Lynch.

An aide handed the mayor a handkerchief to wipe his hands. The aide had noticed the mayor secretly wiping his palms twice earlier—likely nervous sweat.

“How did you decide to join this game?” the mayor asked curiously. Yesterday’s phone call was inconvenient; some things were better asked in person.

Lynch didn’t joke or evade. He needed to clarify his stance and demands, avoiding conflict with others to help build unity.

“I’m interested in the machines at the Liston factory—the sewing machines, cutting machines, steam irons, and some smaller equipment,” Lynch said, turning to the mayor. “Do you think auctioning these off would be enough to compensate these people for what they’ve endured over the years?”

The mayor twitched, suddenly wary. “What are you planning?”

Lynch shrugged indifferently. “I heard Neo, Liston’s CEO, supports the president’s re-election. Maybe we can use this chance to drop a big news story.”

A knowing smile crept across his face. “People need that.”