Chapter 24: The Birth of Power Often Relies on Dominating Violence

After several days, the hatred in the dealer’s heart did not fade; instead, it grew stronger with time.

Whenever he got drunk, he recalled the humiliation, harm, and control Michael had inflicted on him that night.

He only wanted a soulmate like most normal people. He hadn’t done anything wrong. The girl didn’t resist, but Michael suddenly appeared.

Michael kicked the dealer and trampled on what was most precious to him, refusing to give him clothes—all in front of his foster daughter.

Later, his foster daughter disappeared somewhere, and Michael held many pieces of leverage over him. Remembering every time Michael beat or scolded him and took his money only deepened his hatred.

Especially this time, losing thousands made him feel thoroughly humiliated again, and it involved his control over the children in the building.

Now all the children knew that a man named Michael had taken the dealer’s money. He was under pressure; even the older kids’ expressions changed toward him.

He gradually lost control over the children, especially last night when, drunk, he tried to beat them but the two oldest grabbed his whip and pushed him out.

This loss of control terrified him more. Everything he had was built on absolute control over these kids. If he didn’t change, he would soon become one of those failures he despised, forgotten in history’s dustbin.

“Will it fire?” the dealer asked the man hiding in the shadows, who was counting cash without responding.

After counting a roll, the man nodded. “No problem, I’ve tested it. You can try too. It holds four bullets. If you want more…” He pulled out a gun. “Two bucks per bullet.”

The dealer twitched, silently pocketing the gun. This modified starter pistol had no serial number, making it untraceable.

Many underground arms dealers preferred such weapons to avoid being implicated.

“That’s it. Money’s good. Anything else?” the young man in the shadows asked. The dealer shook his head. They greeted briefly, then the man disappeared into the alley.

The sky darkened. Pocketing the gun, the dealer felt a new kind of power—very different from before.

Before, his power came from being an adult stronger than children, which let him control them.

Now, this power let him take lives at will. This supreme control over life made him feel like God.

Anyone who displeased him could die with a trigger pull. This reckless dominance excited him.

Carrying ham slices and complimentary small whole wheat buns from a deli—a promotional tactic to boost business by offering a small bag of four fist-sized buns with certain meat purchases.

This business model was spreading from big cities to smaller ones. People hadn’t noticed, but financial and economic specialists had.

Economic slowdown made social competition fiercer and more brutal. The nation’s financial development slowed—a problematic but rational phenomenon.

Eating salty ham, buns, and cheap liquor, the dealer got drunk again. Meanwhile, an unknown impulse took over his mind.

He recalled being kicked out of the dorm last night by those kids he called dogs. Smiling cruelly, holding his whip and a bottle, he staggered back into the dorm.

Minutes later, a dull gunshot rang out, silencing the usual noise. Then came the sound of a whip striking flesh.

But this time, no one cried. Everyone bit their teeth tight, which twisted the dealer’s impulse further.

No tears?

Then I’ll beat you until you cry!

The night passed quietly.

After a day of work, Vera mastered her tasks well. After Lynch finished a deal, he greeted her and left early for other matters.

He had to hire a lawyer to register patents, find a factory to make his coin dispenser, and was curious about the dealer’s strange behavior last night at dinner. He wondered if the dealer was about to act, so he needed to finish his own plans first, like planting his ring in Michael’s room.

Many things to do, one step at a time.

Near noon, Lynch went to a modest law firm in Sabin City—not the most famous or successful, just affordable.

A professional accountant might make you worry every day, but a lawyer can make you worry for months or more.

Consultation fees were just part of the total cost. They started charging from the moment you left, plus material fees if you took documents, plus expenses for thirst or hunger—unavoidable costs. Lynch only needed a regular lawyer.

“Hello,” Lynch entered and was politely invited to sit. The lawyer pressed a button on a small double-faced clock, starting the timer.

Then the lawyer said, “If the secretary wasn’t lazy, she told you it’s twenty-five bucks an hour, under an hour charged as one hour, right?”

Lynch nodded. The lawyer smiled more. “So, how can I help you?”

“I want to register a patent.”

The lawyer was briefly surprised, reevaluated Lynch, and thought Lynch should be discussing possible crimes like assault or robbery at his age, not patents. He double-checked.

Lynch nodded again. The lawyer began, “Well, honestly, we don’t have a patent lawyer, but we can—”

Before finishing, Lynch stood up. The lawyer also stood and eagerly tried to keep the business, “We can give you a discount. Trust me, registering a patent doesn’t need much expertise!”

Because each state and region has different laws, documents approved in one might fail in another.

No lawyer claims to be all-knowing; they specialize—criminal lawyers handle crimes and sentencing, family lawyers deal with marriage and divorce, economic lawyers handle financial disputes, and patent lawyers focus mainly on building patent barriers, tech monopolies, and infringement cases.

Yet people are stubborn—like choosing to wear dress shoes instead of slippers, even though both serve to go outside.

Every lawyer’s job is to secure clients and generate profits for the firm.