Darkstone Code

Chapter 402: 0400 Richard's New Life


Fifteen thousand dollars, plus the money from selling Mike's house, would make about forty thousand dollars.

They would use thirty thousand to buy a new house, and the remaining ten thousand could solve the issue of little Michael's schooling; there should even be some surplus.

Director Johnson was quick with calculations, thanks to his professional skills developed over the years. He was indeed a warrior on the tax work front line, quick with simple numbers.

Miserable in prison, Michael certainly didn't know that his wife was not only pregnant with someone else's child but that the house he bought would be sold by Director Johnson.

This is truly a tragic story!

However, Director Johnson's expression was not as grim. Lynch had helped him a lot, and he waved the check, "Should I say thank you?"

"You can say it or not, it depends on your attitude," Lynch put away the checkbook; it was unlikely that Director Johnson had other issues besides lack of money when he approached him.

After a moment of silence, Director Johnson nodded solemnly, "Thank you, you've been a great help!"

At this point in Director Johnson's life, he didn't have much left to pursue. The state had some plans for him, and by the end of the year at the latest, he would be reassigned to a branch office under the York State Tax Bureau to while away his time.

Johnson now realized that struggling was meaningless. In his life, he might not have done anything earth-shattering, but he also hadn't made any huge mistakes.

The treatment from the higher-ups could be considered relatively fair, and in the coming time, he would mostly be stepping away from his current role, making way for the upcoming Deputy Director, while beginning to enjoy early retirement.

This also meant his income would change; a city's Tax Director and a state office staffer couldn't possibly have the same salary.

The disparity in benefits would be even more significant!

When Lynch asked about his future work arrangements, he smiled calmly, "It is as it is, I don't plan to do anything more. I know I'm not qualified for that. The current outcome is the best I could hope for…"

"What kind of person is the new Director?" Lynch asked as they walked back.

Having resolved his nagging problems, Director Johnson did not mind talking more. "A newcomer transferred from the state office, around thirty-seven years old, full of energy. He reportedly has a decent network within the system. Unlike me, this isn't his final stop."

Glancing at Lynch, he continued, "He's actually quite similar to Michael, eager to accomplish something significant for a better resume. If you have anything…," he smiled and said, "keep it hidden, don't get caught."

Walking from the lakeside back to the roadside, Lynch glanced back at the entire artificial lake and the villa community by the lake.

The place felt desolate, none of its former glory from its development was visible, only decay.

Director Johnson also glanced back, suddenly remembering something, "Oh, do you know Hart?"

Lynch nodded, "He exchanged this property with me for a piece of land."

Director Johnson chuckled, "He ran away…" Seeing no change in Lynch's expression puzzled him slightly, but he did not show it, "He repeatedly sold the houses in his project and fled with the money, leaving a mess. Even our mayor is out quite a bit of money."

This was the first Lynch had heard of it. Perhaps because of embarrassment or other reasons, neither the Mayor nor Mark had mentioned it to him before.

After acquiring land on the edge of the city center, Hart responded to the state government's call to build a batch of public rental apartments for city residents with limited finances.

They would pay part of the rent themselves, and City Hall had a special fund to cover the rest. In simple terms, the rental income from these public apartments wouldn't be less than that of ordinary apartments due to government subsidies, with guaranteed tenants.

These projects were located just on the fringe of the city center, boasting a favorable location.

Under certain regulations, after several years when the policy period ended, these apartments could be bought and sold freely, yielding a large sum when flipped.

Once the apartments were completed, they could promptly accommodate tenants, and later be sold for a good price — a tempting investment for many, with numerous people joining in.

Hart, leveraging his previous local connections, successfully attracted many investors, particularly the mayor and Mark, the uncle-nephew duo, who invested in nearly dozens of apartments collectively.

Their real motive linked back to the mayor. The mayor would support Ferrari in succeeding him, and as compensation, with minor adjustments during city planning, these apartment projects would be shifted into the city center territory, potentially generating millions over time with dozens of properties.

In addition to carefree rental income over the years, they could eventually profit upwards of three million.

In the current economic environment, achieving guaranteed profit margins, ensuring no loss and a certain level of profit was enough to attract numerous investors.

With the mayor and some local elites taking the lead, the middle class followed suit with enthusiasm like the current weather!

And so… Hart ran away, fleeing with possibly over ten million in funds.

Returning from the lake, Lynch turned on the television, watching the tedious news on the local TV channel, his thoughts began to drift quickly.

Sometimes he wondered where Hart might be hiding, or if he was already dead—after all, he took nothing but cash (bank), and whoever finds him would essentially have a moving vault in their hands.

How much they could squeeze out depended on their ruthlessness, and by now, many must have gone searching for him.

Then he thought of some international conflicts.

The next morning, Richard took a train to the capital. He wanted to see for himself who was stealing his money.

...

"Ugh..."

A deep voice squeezed out from his throat as Richard pushed away arms and legs that sprawled over him and struggled to get up.

The room was filled with a rotten stench. Disordered wine bottles were scattered about on the floor, leaving some traces after the liquor dried up.

Cigarettes, Kleve, even Ghost Face Mushroom powder were piled up on the coffee table, while a group of naked young men and women lay tangled together.

The nauseating smell in the air almost made Richard vomit. He hurriedly ran to the bathroom and dry-heaved for a moment but nothing came out.

After showering and rinsing himself off, he walked to the window and yanked open the curtains.

The sunlight immediately poured in, causing the flesh bugs around and on the bed to start writhing.

"Damn it, close the curtains!"

Someone turned over, hugging a pillow to cover their face, facing away from the window.

Others, apathetic like pieces of wood, slowly sat up on the bed, seemingly still confused about what had happened.

Richard slapped his head as he glanced at the clock—it was almost noon.

He was a bit hungry, so he called for takeout. In the afternoon, he had a poker game scheduled.

Soon, the delivery rider arrived with Richard's order. After eating a bit, Richard stood up and left.

The brand-new luxury car shimmered under the sunlight, exuding intoxicating allure. Along the road from the villa, more than one girl tried to chat with Richard, drawn by the car he was driving.

But Richard didn't slow down; instead, he accelerated. Compared to the dull, physiological pleasures, lately he had become obsessed with the poker game, a simple kind of play.

Successful people in the Federation would often gather and play a poker game, trade, pay—call it what you will.

This poker game wasn't strictly gambling; it was more a strategic game portrayed through cards.

There are many similar games, mostly boasting intellect and elegance, not being crude. This is why few are truly addicted to them, as mastering them indeed requires a lot of time.

Of course, in the Federation, there is gambling too; dice, roulette, but Richard had never touched such gambling games.

Thrilling, exciting, full of courage and wit. It was addictive.

The rules were simple: each person only gets three cards, no exchanging, but you could discard your hand. Yet, it doesn't make things any simpler because you can't see others' cards.

Then comes probing, with various strategies—observing the opponent's eye gleam, watching small movements, noting changes in their breathing rate, seeing if there's sweat on their temples.

Next was the most exciting part: having a weak hand didn't necessarily mean losing. There are numerous ways to win even with a small hand.

With a strong hand, you need to devise ways to lure more people into the game to earn more.

An exhilarating game!

The car accelerated all the way until it stopped outside a villa where several cars were already parked. The poker game had begun.

Richard impatiently locked the car and headed inside.

The waiter by the door politely opened it for him. A girl inside smiled and took a check from his hand, giving him a box of chips.

He went to a room on the second floor and sat at a table surrounded by many people, greeting them warmly.

Today, his plan was to "kill" these people, leaving them with no money left even for dinner!

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