Chapter 69: Lynch, Shining and Radiating Like the Sun

The newsboys who stopped Lynch only realized after killing their boss that their suffering wouldn’t change simply because one oppressor was gone.

Many people say life’s pain is like having a stone on your head—remove the stone, and life gets better. Some even misleadingly claim that those who exploit them are the very people who pay their wages and support their families.

Maybe that’s partly true, but not entirely.

The boss is dead, but the kids’ situation hasn’t improved, because the true oppression comes not from the boss, but from a society centered on profit.

In fact, without the boss, their lives might get harder. Without his connections and the intimidation he commanded, the kids lose access to resources they once had—resources they saw as ordinary, even as sources of their suffering.

They can’t buy newspapers. In an era where print media still dominates, newspapers rarely have trouble selling out their daily print runs, meaning a part of the market is now vacant.

With the boss gone, other bosses try to take over his share, squeezing into his territory and market. Through deals the kids don’t understand, their newspapers end up sold to others.

New newsboys they’ve never seen appear nearby, waving fresh papers smelling strongly of ink, taking the earnings that should have belonged to the kids.

Moreover, recycling stations, which had good relations with the boss for various reasons, now shamelessly lower prices to maximize their own profits.

The kids have no way to fight back. Those who exploit them enjoy their gains without worry.

The kids always thought the boss was the root of their nightmare, but now they realize how shallow their understanding of society was.

The money left by the boss can sustain them for a while, but if they don’t find new income, it will soon run out.

A few older kids believe it can’t go on like this. If they can’t provide money to their parents or the welfare home, they will be taken away, scattered, and sent elsewhere to suffer more exploitation.

So they must stand up and earn income. They’ve already defied fate and overturned one stone; now they must keep fighting until the thick clouds part and they see the blue sky.

They approached Lynch, thinking it the simplest option they could imagine.

Lynch looked at the two kids and shook his head slightly. “Sorry, I don’t do that kind of work anymore.”

With many finance companies and laundromats being shut down, more people realized someone might be tampering with coins. The coin exchange business had just peaked before plunging.

Also, with Mr. Fox’s large cash withdrawal proofs from banks, Lynch no longer needed such outdated methods to legitimize his money.

Though the two kids tried to appear casual, their disappointment was clear.

The older kid asked nervously, “Mr. Lynch, you’re a good man. Is there any work we can do?”

He added quickly, “We can accept less pay than regular workers. Just enough for food and some pocket money—we don’t ask for much.”

Reality is ironic. Having moved one stone, they now seek another to willingly place on their own shoulders.

Lynch smiled faintly—his kindest moments came when he smiled. His smile transcended race, gender, age, education, and comprehension. It soothed anxiety and bridged strangers.

“I do have some work that needs doing, but…” His smile grew gentler. “…I know your boss—the one who ran your operation. If you want work, have him come talk to me. That’d be better.”

“I know you’re employed by him. If I deal with you directly, he might not take it kindly. I don’t want anyone hurt over this.”

Listen to that! Kind-hearted Lynch is truly a good man. Everyone’s harsh judgments come from misunderstanding. His serious look made the older kid’s expression stiffen.

Everyone knows, including Lynch, the boss is dead. He was stabbed to death on the road out of town that night by these older kids. Yet Lynch still insisted on mentioning it. His simple purpose: to make the kids realize that before they can interact as equals with adults, they need a bridge.

Before, that bridge was the boss. Now it’s gone, and they must find another or become that bridge themselves—whatever it takes.

The younger kid, seeing his older brother hasn’t responded, though most would already call him a little adult, is still just a child.

A prematurely matured child’s mind can never match a quick, thoughtful adult’s. So he said something he shouldn’t have:

“The boss? He’s gone!”

The older kid’s face froze in shock. He grabbed the younger one’s hat and bowed to Lynch as they prepared to leave.

“Mr. Lynch, we’re sorry to take your time…”

Besides those older kids, even the younger kids in the dormitory don’t know the boss is dead. It’s a secret—a secret only among the older kids.

The Federation does have juvenile protection laws, but they protect innocent, normal minors.

For criminal minors, especially in severe cases like murder, the law doesn’t advocate protection. Sentencing is complex, involving psychologists, and meant more as rehabilitation than simple imprisonment.

Society often praises juvenile offenders who mechanically give the expected answers, celebrating another humanitarian victory for the Federation.

Anyway, as the two kids were about to leave, Lynch stopped them.

“Gone?” he raised an eyebrow. “Did he run off? Michael was sentenced; he shouldn’t have fled.”

This sudden angle stunned the kids. Lynch even offered a way to cover up. The kids, knowing the secret but thinking Lynch unaware, suddenly thought—maybe he’s not so dumb.

They followed his lead. The younger kid fell silent, and the older one nodded:

“Yes, Mr. Lynch, our boss ran away…”

Lynch nodded approvingly.

“Looks like life’s been hard for you lately?”

The older kid nodded repeatedly.

“Yes, sir, life’s been tough.”

Kind and approachable Lynch sighed.

“I like kids, and I have a kind heart. I have a job here you might like.” He seemed to forget he was only about twenty himself.

But his mature appearance could pass for twenty-four or twenty-five—someone that age sees these kids as just kids.

“Your kindness shines on people like the sun!”