After being hit by a bullet, a person does not die immediately.
There is a process from life to death. Once, Gafura's biologists conducted an experiment. They promised death row inmates some benefits to accept their research.
The most famous was the beheading experiment.
Generally speaking, after beheading, the decapitated head of the executed felon would roll a few times. If this were a myth or a legend novel, there might be a black dog running away with the head.
But this is a story of research. People fixed the heads of the death row inmates on a stand, and then a blade quickly severed the connection between their heads and bodies. At this time, scientists would ask questions, and the inmates would find ways to answer, such as looking to the left or right for different options.
The purpose of this experiment was to prove that even after the head was chopped off, a person would not die immediately. It sounds boring and somewhat cruel, but it did indeed provide many necessary insights for the field of biology.
Most of the decapitated felons retained their thinking ability for some time. They could answer two to three questions, then truly entered a state of death as blood in the brain was depleted and drained.
So after being shot, Mikhail did not die immediately. He clutched his chest and fell to the ground, looking painfully at the police chief, at this guy who once groveled in front of him.
Gunshots could be heard from other parts of the basement, and a woman's scream also came, but all of this fell into silence within seconds.
"The Provincial Governor knows you once made things difficult for Mr. Lynch. For the sake of Nagariel and the Federation's friendship, for the friendship between the Provincial Governor and Mr. Lynch, he asked me to convey his apology to you."
The police chief tugged at the corner of his clothes to make them neater. He adjusted his utility belt, making himself look alert at all times.
With each breath, Mikhail felt his breathing grew weaker. With a feeble voice, he said, "But it was... Drag's son who made me do it, not my idea."
"But Mr. Lynch doesn't know!" The police chief raised his gun at him. "Anything else you want me to pass on? If not, I'll now send you back to the embrace of God."
Mikhail didn't expect to survive. He could feel the blood seemed to be flooding one of his lungs, and he could now only breathe depending on the other one. With such terrifying blood loss, in the underdeveloped medical facilities and technology of Nagariel, he simply could not survive.
He showed a schadenfreude smile, perhaps it was schadenfreude, as he looked at the police chief, "Now it's me, next it's you!"
The police chief was startled for a moment, then he pulled the trigger without hesitation. Bullets successively pierced through Mikhail's once arrogant face, shattering it until he heard the click of an empty chamber. Only then did the police chief realize he had emptied a clip of bullets.
His expression was somewhat sluggish. Only after a moment did he holster his gun, shook his head at the unrecognizable Mikhail, "I'm not you. You have value to be used, and I'm just a dog."
With that, a look of either regret or luck on his face, he left the place.
The smell of blood had already spread, and the people in the basement were as dead as they could be.
Seeing those subordinates with guns in their hands, the police chief straightened his utility belt once more, "I've inspected it. Mayor Mikhail has been attacked and killed by thugs. This is the most severe case ever encountered in Mengwu Province. I swear to God here, I must catch those murderers!"
With traces of blood still on their faces, their pockets bulging, and the barrels of their guns still hot to the touch, the excited police officers stood straight and loudly echoed the police chief's pledge, ensuring the case would be solved as soon as possible.
The sunlight streaming in from outside the basement shone on their wide-brimmed hats, and the police badges were exceptionally bright at this moment.
The news of Mikhail's attack and death was not immediately disclosed, and even Drag and Lynch did not begin to address the unrest outside. They were still waiting.
Both Drag and Lynch were actually well aware that by instigating the local lower class against the middle and upper classes, the ruling class, it was essentially to entirely reshuffle the deck.
The Federation people have come. This is not akin to mutual greetings describing fresh events occurring around; it's a concrete phenomenon.
The Federation came with a formidable posture that most Nagarielians couldn't even comprehend. The first step these people took upon arrival was to reshuffle. Those middle-upper classes who held numerous resources were unprepared and would be wiped out, just like what's happening now.
Outside, the city was engulfed in flames, and the unrest had begun to spread to other places. Those who failed to gain any advantage here among the lower social classes started heading to other cities in search of opportunities, and this turmoil, triggered by unrest, might spread throughout Nagariel.
This might be what some people wanted. When they still didn't know how to proceed, Lynch started the fire.
Back in his room, with the help of the maid, Lynch removed his clothes and entered the bathroom.
It must be said Drag knew how to enjoy himself, though this also correlates with the local traditional culture.
The bath, forty to fifty square meters in size, was filled with hot water carrying a faint sulfur smell, sourced from an underground spring. Its comfortable design featured a recess allowing Lynch to lie without sinking. Lying inside, he enjoyed the cool breeze. The tropical jungle at night was not far away. Apart from some annoying mosquitoes occasionally flying by, it was nearly perfect at this moment.
He slightly closed his eyes, feeling the heat and comfort brought by the hot water flowing over his body surface, which made him feel so comfortable that he wanted to take a nap.
He was contemplating the situation here; breaking the local inherent structure of rule and ruling class was a plan he and the United Development Company decided before coming.
If these past ruling classes who haven't joined the United Development Company aren't taken down, in the future they might waste a lot of time and energy on local factional struggles.
So now the best approach is to provoke conflicts right from the outset, forcing locals to take sides.
Those willing to cooperate will be granted Federation citizenship, which is actually crucial. As long as they become Federation citizens, we don't need to worry about them abandoning cooperation with the United Development Company for various reasons.
You should know, when the locals realize their rulers have also abandoned them, their faith and gods, their rule will come to an end.
The rest is to eliminate those standing on the opposing side, perhaps clueless about their passive alignment, unaware they don't have choices, oblivious to so much.
But that's not the point; the point is the space, the new space released will see a batch of new Nagariel people replacing these individuals, becoming the new privileged class or ruling class with the help of Federation people, the Federation will…
Hiss...
Lynch's muscles suddenly tensed but soon relaxed.
He didn't open his eyes; he was just preoccupied thinking about the work ahead, so he didn't notice the second person who entered the bath.
The ripple caused by the body moving stirred the otherwise calm water surface into ripples, and the maids standing outside the bath watched everything unfold with red faces, feeling somewhat shy but also curious.
Lynch's breathing was a bit heavy, and after a while, the ripples gradually settled.
"How much did little Fox offer you for the role?", Lynch asked, his voice somewhat hoarse, "Do you have water?"
Soon, a maid arrived beside him with a tray, containing four drinks: alcohol, fruit wine, juice, and floral tea.
He hesitated for a moment, choosing floral tea. Alcohol isn't a good thing, although many like it; he has seen those addicted to alcohol.
Many think alcohol addiction is just shaky hands; it's not actually the case. It's just a side effect, as alcohol ultimately claims lives, destroying brain cells massively!
Juice is too sweet, favored by youngsters, but Lynch, as an "old man," prefers a milder taste.
Penny, somewhat tired, lay beside him, her face flushed as if the twilight had left its mark on her cheeks, breathing heavily, "Thirty thousand, the broker company will take two-thirds; the rest is mine."
Lynch was surprised as he looked at the girl, "They value you greatly to give you this much; I thought it would be a bit less."
From a regular person with no entertainment industry experience to a star, the broker company has to pay many costs in the process.
Time, money, network relations not everyone can succeed, not everyone can make the broker company profitable, so initially a large portion of the artist's income goes to the broker company.
Until the artists start gaining popularity, they keep adjusting the shares till they only take five to ten percent; given Penny's current influence, she shouldn't get as much as one-third.
Penny pouted, turned to grab a tropical fruit from the fruit basket by the bath, took a bite, and juice splattered, "Because they think I can become a big star, so the initial contract given to me was slightly higher than others' level."
She then leaned over, tilted her head, and stared at Lynch's handsome face floating in the water, somewhat lost.
However, she quickly regained her senses, biting her lip and asking, "How was it this time, did I mess up?"
Lynch thought for a moment and evaluated, "Initially, to be honest, you were a bit inexperienced but you improved later on; I can give you a passing score."
"What?"
"Just a passing score?"
"I think I did well this time!"
If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.