Chapter 43: Collision Between Dark Clouds

The matter had escalated significantly. Lynch did play a role, involving himself as a factor, but the real catalyst was neither him nor the media.

They lacked the power to shake the official stance. What made the authorities wary were enemies of equal standing.

Not everyone has a “licensed” friend, nor can everyone use such connections to handle affairs. Many are actually on the receiving end of such dealings, which terrified some socially prominent people who had yet to access real power.

Their fear came from the failure of their wealth and influence to connect as they had initially imagined — still running on parallel lines. This meant that if their opponents used powers they lacked, resistance would be difficult.

This group was mainly new capitalists, who had quickly amassed fortunes in a single generation that previously took two or three, but lacked deep roots.

They began to fear the power they had often fantasized about. As many say about caging capital, for these new capitalists without foundation, it should be power that’s caged, not them.

So when Lynch’s incident quickly escalated, it wasn’t because he was extraordinary — he merely provided these people with a blade.

That blade might not tear down the Federal government’s centuries-old fortress, but it could carve deeper marks into its walls.

One day, they would chip away at this invisible barrier, bit by bit.

The pressure from these people forced the Federal Tax Bureau to compromise, since these were also the highest taxpayers.

Sacrificing a low-level investigator to calm the storm seemed like a loss for the bureau, but the real loser was Michael.

As long as the bureau’s enforcement power remained intact, they still had a chance to recover.

Though the situation was clear, Michael’s mind was clouded. The director’s parting words left him in a manic state — the man had asked him to bow to his enemy to gain true forgiveness.

Anyone with worldly knowledge knew Lynch’s apology was a strategic retreat disguised as submission — the weaker he appeared, the stronger the societal backlash.

Now, the task was to convince Lynch to truly forgive Michael, making the issue a minor offense.

Michael’s wife was still hospitalized, with serious injuries on her face and thigh, not yet healed, and also receiving psychological counseling.

This was a huge expense. Michael’s case also required money for defense lawyers and leveraging his status to resolve troubles that only the privileged faced.

Losing his job would instantly ruin Michael’s family. They would soon be overwhelmed by bills, forced to sell their house and move to a cheaper part of town. Their lives would be over.

After smashing a lot of things, Michael left his home in a suit, his head buzzing, ears ringing loudly.

Though neighbors showed concern and spoke to him as he left, he heard nothing but dull ringing in his head.

He forced a smile, got into his car, started it, shifted gears, and slowly drove out of the community.

He was going to see Lynch and settle this. He never thought he would face such a hurdle. After all, he was a vigorous federal tax investigator, with potential for promotion.

He misjudged both himself and others, and now had to pay for his mistakes.

When Michael arrived at the hospital, the reporters had mostly left. Lynch’s cooperation had sped up the interview.

Michael went straight to Lynch’s room. When he entered, Lynch was sitting in hospital clothes, watching TV.

Though looking weary, Michael could see from Lynch’s bright eyes that the exhaustion was fake.

A surge of anger rose inside Michael, but before it could consume his reason, he suppressed it.

Lynch noticed Michael and muted the TV, then looked at him.

Michael felt uncomfortable under Lynch’s gaze, took a deep breath, forced himself to sit on a small chair beside the bed, and apologized sincerely, “I want to apologize for my previous irrational behavior and hope you can forgive me.”

Saying those words was hard — his proud streak was part of his past successes. In the past, he would have rather broken everything than apologize.

But his family was the last straw. He had begun reflecting on his actions.

Lynch shook his head. “You sound perfunctory, without any sincerity. This is the first time I’ve heard such an apology from you…” He looked Michael up and down mockingly. “Like I’m the one begging for your apology — coming in uninvited, sitting beside me, saying nonsense and waiting for my response.”

“I think you’re not here to apologize, but to show off that I’m bedridden while you’re standing.”

Michael’s brow furrowed. He had apologized—what else did Lynch want? But seeing Lynch’s sneer and thinking of his predicament, the rising anger was once again extinguished.

Numb, Michael stood up feeling like an empty shell, disconnected from himself.

He quickly left the room, bought flowers, fruits, and gifts in the hospital lobby, then returned upstairs.

This time he knocked before entering, forced himself to lower his voice, explained his purpose, and repeated his apology: “I sincerely beg you to forgive my rashness.”

Lynch remained unimpressed. “If buying things meant sincerity, there’d be no wars.”

Michael raised his voice, “Then what do you want me to do?” He glared but quickly softened, “Sorry, you know my temper. Tell me what you want clearly!”

Only then did Lynch nod approvingly. “Kneel, sincerely apologize, and beg me to forgive your past actions.”

He sat on the bed watching Michael, who looked incredulous.

They stared at each other for half a minute. Lynch’s gaze was unyielding. Michael slowly understood.

He lowered his head, was silent for a moment, then knelt with a thud, keeping his head bowed, apologizing sincerely and begging for forgiveness.

His voice trembled, suppressing anger, resentment, hatred, and a destructive desire.

Lynch knew this was just a temporary choice, a concession by Michael.

He smiled, pressed the nurse call, and said, “I refuse.”

Michael looked up sharply, shocked as if he hadn’t heard right, wanting Lynch to repeat it.

Lynch seemed to hear his thoughts and said, “I refuse to forgive you.”

Michael stood, approaching the bed with a fierce expression. “You made me buy things, made me kneel. I did everything you said. And now you say you refuse?”

Lynch showed no fear, only asked, “If apologies worked, why do we need law enforcement and the justice department?”

“You committed crimes, Michael. If apologies could erase them, wouldn’t that be nonsense?” He quickly covered his mouth. “Oh, damn, I swore. Aren’t you naïve?”

Michael’s eyes reddened. As his reason neared collapse, two nurses entered the room, stunned, then screamed.