Chapter 68: Michael’s End

During the few days Lynch was renovating his new house, the Michael case took a new turn.

The first to speak out was not Lynch, Michael, or Director Johnson, but Michael’s close partner.

This partner had worked with Michael for twelve or thirteen years and was deputy leader of the Sabin City Tax Bureau investigation team. Many saw him as Michael’s best friend; they shared everything.

No one expected him to be the first to confess details previously unknown to the media.

According to the partner, the conflict between Michael and Lynch began with an accidental collision.

“When Michael and I were walking down the street, Lynch was pushing a cart full of dirty laundry on the sidewalk. Michael pointed at Lynch and said, Hey, look at that kid. Let’s get him.”

The partner appeared deeply regretful before the camera. “I thought he was joking, but he was serious. Without any cause, search warrant, arrest warrant, or legal papers, he attacked Mr. Lynch.”

“He told me to search the cart for evidence against Lynch while he dragged Lynch into an alley and beat him.”

Reporters gasped, struggling to comprehend what kind of hatred would drive an adult to such brutality against a young man.

One reporter stood up. “Unnamed partner, did Michael and Lynch know each other before? Did they have a grudge?”

The partner shook his head. “They didn’t know each other. Whether there was a grudge, I don’t know. Maybe only Michael knows…”

He then described Michael’s violent acts, including threats and beating Lynch until he bled.

These accounts highlighted Michael’s brutality, confirming media suspicions that he was a violent officer who routinely used force and intimidation against innocent civilians.

Director Johnson later appeared, admitting professional negligence. He had hoped Michael would change and thus indirectly tolerated Michael’s behavior. Johnson took full responsibility for this failure.

Friends, partners, subordinates, and acquaintances of Michael were interviewed by the media, mostly describing him as having a severe violent streak and a quick temper.

When reporters visited Michael’s father, the old man drove them away with a double-barreled shotgun. This incident turned Michael’s family into a new media focus under the headline How Violent Can One Person Be?

Public discourse shifted away from whether Michael had abused his power, focusing instead on his personal character.

Many asked Michael’s friends and colleagues why they hadn’t warned him earlier about his temper. Several said they were afraid Michael would hit them.

The sudden change in public opinion pleased the federal tax bureau. No longer did politicians shout about restricting law enforcement powers; everyone blamed Michael, which was exactly what they wanted.

Less than a week after Lynch bought his house, the Michael case went to trial.

Lynch, as a primary and known victim, was required to appear as a witness.

The trial was closed to the public to prevent media interference and ensure a fair process, a request issued by the Department of Justice to Sabin City court.

Because this was a minor assault case, no jury was involved—only the defendant, his lawyer, and the judge.

The courtroom was sparse. Lynch watched Michael, freshly scrubbed but looking pale, worn, and disheveled.

The judge asked over a dozen questions. Michael refused to answer a few but mostly responded and pleaded guilty.

He was sentenced to 87 months—seven years and three months.

Given Michael’s former law enforcement status and the people he had imprisoned, for his own protection, he would serve time in a stricter state prison outside the city.

Michael was surprised but did not appeal. The judge allowed sentence reductions, meaning he wouldn’t serve the full term.

Federal law permits various methods to reduce sentences to under three years. The tax bureau would recruit Michael under a “special talent conscription act” and relocate him, effectively freeing him.

The actual imprisonment time would be under three years, a guarantee personally made by Director Johnson, removing any appeal incentive.

Appealing could lead to a worse outcome in state court, where judges might view it as defiance and increase the sentence or restrict reductions.

With the trial over, the media promptly reported the verdict. Within a day, the entire federal community knew.

After brief public outrage, attention shifted to new topics.

Director Johnson received praise from the state office; Michael’s partner was promoted to full leader; team members shuffled; behind-the-scenes players quieted down; the public left satisfied after watching a drama unfold.

Everyone departed contentedly—almost comically so.

“Mr. Lynch!”

After shaking off persistent reporters and walking about a hundred meters, two dirty boys in worn baseball caps blocked Lynch’s path. Lynch recognized one—the newsboy who once exchanged 97 points for one Sol.

He casually put his hand in his pocket, where he kept a pen. He flicked off the cap—a gesture recalling someone saying, “A pen is like a knife,” before taking down an opponent. Lynch wasn’t sure if he was that fierce, but it gave him confidence.

That night, watching these kids stab the newsboy, Lynch realized the hidden ferocity beneath their pitiful exterior.

“Need something?” Lynch smiled, always smiling like the sun was shining.

The boys exchanged a glance. One patted his backpack. “Sir, I’ve got a lot of change here. Need some?”

After the newsboy’s death, these kids were momentarily relieved, but only temporarily—their situation soon worsened.

They had to pay wages to the families or orphanages that employed them and maintain some social connections.

They could keep the wages owed to families and orphanages, but they had no control over the social ties, and thus stopped receiving newspapers. The press refused to wholesale to underage newsboys.

Meanwhile, the scrap yard started dropping prices. What used to earn them twenty to thirty Sol a day dropped to just a few or a dozen.

Arguing led to refusals to buy, causing panic. If they couldn’t solve this, their guardians would send them elsewhere. They desperately needed a way out.