Darkstone Code-Chapter 933 - 931: Hell Neighbor

From initially wanting to hijack Lynch, to now standing in this room, wearing dolphin hero underwear, saying "I want to survive," this doesn’t actually require much inner struggle.

Every path seems to lead nowhere, he must choose one that lets him keep moving forward.

Surrender is shameful?

No, it’s the dead who are shameful. As long as you’re alive, there’s a possibility to become a hero.

Sanchez looked at Lynch, hoping his words would move Lynch, but Lynch wasn’t so easily swayed.

"Do I look like a fool?" Lynch retorted, "The General is your father, I don’t think he’d kill you."

Sanchez was silent for a moment, "My uncle thinks so too."

Lynch chuckled a couple of times, "You’re quite humorous, that’s good, Federation people love humorous people, tell me about your father, that General."

There was some sarcasm in those words, Sanchez pretended not to hear it, or even if he did, he didn’t care much.

"He’s a very strict person...", he began to recount stories about his father.

Indeed, he was a very strict person. Sanchez joined fighting at the age of fourteen. As the General said, as the eldest son, he had to adapt to harsh living conditions.

Almost every so often, every few days or a week or two, there would be conflicts with other forces.

Back then, the General was just a small-scale warlord with only over a hundred men. So when he had a son, the son also had to go to the battlefield as a combatant rather than sit back and enjoy the harvest that came with others’ deaths.

In the General’s view, anyone was pretty much the same, son, brother, family, these were just tools for him to achieve his power goals.

To some extent, his harshness towards family was more like managing regular soldiers—by being strict to the point that even family wouldn’t be spared, people understood what rules meant.

"...I promised him I’d handle these things, but evidently, I failed."

"I can’t guarantee whether he’ll kill me because of this, nor can I be sure whether my siblings will secretly execute me before he chooses to trust me again."

Throughout Sanchez’s description of his father, he never once said the word "father," nor mentioned his name, always referring to the man as "the General."

Here, in Mariluo, this has always been the case, there isn’t much family affection between them, only obedience dictated by blood ties.

"I don’t have the courage to bet they’ll all forgive me, nor can I hijack you to force you to hand over what I want, so I’m standing here like a clown begging for a chance to live."

After Lynch had listened, he paused for a moment, "That really is a brutal and dictatorial General. Through your description, I can feel the Mariluo people’s and Mariluo people’s suffering in this turbulent situation and under warlord rule."

Outside the villa, the FBI’s cars had arrived. They took more than three minutes talking, slightly earlier than Lynch’s estimated five minutes.

This is understandable; after all, Lynch is a wealthy man, and this is a rich area. If the FBI Director doesn’t want to change jobs, he must show respect and reverence to the wealthy.

"Mr. Lynch...", Sanchez’s tone was a bit panicked. Once the FBI takes him away, he’ll surely be expelled from the Federation.

The only place left for him to go is Mariluo.

He really doesn’t want to go back; after his mission failure, he can already imagine the General’s volcanic eruption of anger.

He’s messed up everything, and with the disruption of financial aid, the General’s force will soon become unstable.

Armed factions not getting paid on time will definitely cause trouble, and historically, only money can make them comply, loyalty is something they lack.

These troubles will become increasingly terrifying, eventually toppling the General to the ground, so Sanchez is certainly responsible for this.

Lynch was still contemplating, Sanchez urgently shouted another phrase, "Mr. Lynch, I swear what I’m saying is true."

His expression, his emotions, all failed to maintain composure; he was terrified.

The footsteps outside grew closer, and the villa door was pushed open. Over ten men, obviously FBI investigators, appeared together, led by the Director of the Bupen City FBI, who personally took charge of this case.

Upon entering, he presented his credentials, "I’m the Bupen City FBI Investigation Director, this is my ID, I’m here to take away the wanted criminal Sanchez..."

Lynch shook his head and stood up, "Sorry, Director, Sanchez can’t be handed over to you just yet, I have other uses for him."

Sanchez, so tense he almost wet himself, breathed a sigh of relief, he felt he had convinced Lynch.

The Investigation Director frowned, "He’s a wanted criminal across the Federation..."

The warrant was requested to be issued by the Security Committee; each time a Federation-wide warrant is released, it actually damages the FBI’s reputation.

Upon seeing a nationwide warrant, people’s first impression is that the FBI are like pigs who only eat and sleep, incapable of doing anything well, ignoring criminals who become societal issues.

But in fact, sometimes issuing such warrants isn’t their own request, but other agencies asking them to assist in publishing.

Ultimately, they bear all kinds of disrepute themselves.

If they could quickly capture Sanchez, it would greatly help restore the FBI’s image.

Moreover, he didn’t think Lynch could stop him.

He spoke, tilted his head slightly, and gestured for his men to bring Sanchez over.

But Lynch took out his credentials from his pocket and handed them to Austin, asking her to show them to the FBI Director. 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝙚𝙬𝓮𝙗𝒏𝙤𝒗𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝒐𝓶

The FBI Director, somewhat puzzled, took the credentials. He then looked up at Lynch and began to examine them seriously.

Every executive department of the Federation Government adds some anti-counterfeiting measures to their credentials. After all, in this era when communication technology is not yet advanced, relying on a verbal description of someone’s appearance to verify their identity is far less reliable than other anti-counterfeiting methods.

Lynch’s credentials were genuine, and no one knew he had this identity.

The FBI Director dared not make a fuss, returned the credentials to Austin, and gave Lynch a meaningful look, saying, "Let’s go back."

One investigator seemed unwilling but was glared back into submission by the FBI Director.

This is the authority of the Security Committee. If not for a group of people watching the Security Committee, perhaps the Security Committee could have obtained the privilege of acting first and verifying later.

After retrieving the credentials, Lynch instructed someone to keep an eye on Sanchez, then returned to the study and called Mr. Truman.

Mr. Truman had just returned home and was lying in the bathtub to relieve the fatigue from a busy day of work. His servant brought the phone to the side of the bathtub.

"It’s me..."

"Lynch?"

"Yes."

"Is there something urgent you need to discuss, calling me so late?"

"Sanchez came to me with his hands raised high, wanting to see me. I chatted with him for a bit; he is a person of value."

"Value?", Mr. Truman stood up from the bathtub upon hearing this. He carried the phone towards the outer room of the bathroom, where a servant was wiping his body.

Of course, he wore briefs, though why he wore briefs is another matter entirely.

"Tell me more."

"We all know that the more chaotic Mariluo is, the more valuable and meaningful it is to us. Right now, it is too stable, which does not align with our political interests in the North."

"Aside from that, we need someone among the major warlords to stand unconditionally on our side."

"Don’t hang up the phone, I’ll go to the study to discuss with you," Mr. Truman casually said and hung up.

After about two minutes, some static noise came through, followed closely by Mr. Truman’s voice, "Still there?"

"Yes, I am."

"Earlier, when you said we needed a warlord on our side, did you mean Sanchez’s father?"

Lynch’s answer was quick and firm, "Of course not, we need a warlord completely belonging to us. A general is not the best choice; in fact, he’s the worst. He is difficult for us to control."

"But we have a very good target."

Mr. Truman pondered and said, "You mean Sanchez? Why do you think so highly of him? I have read his file; he is ruthless but nothing more."

He felt that Sanchez wasn’t a very smart person, which did not align with Mr. Truman’s criteria for employing people. He was a smart man and knew how useful smart people could be.

Sanchez is too dumb.

But Lynch’s view was just the opposite, "Because he is not smart enough, we can control him better."

"Mariluo now needs transformation, a revolution—a child standing up against a tyrannical father, hoping to resolve the hatred between two ethnic groups. How do you feel about this theme?"

Mr. Truman listened seriously, and he thought seriously, "This theme sounds like it suits the taste of those in Congress, but it’s clear that Mariluoans and Marilorians would not think so."

"The hatred between ethnic groups cannot be simply laid down. This won’t succeed."

Lynch smiled and added, "But the Federation will support him, with our backing, he has the foundation."

"We don’t need him to truly achieve this; we only need him to appear like he is working towards establishing a peaceful and orderly society capable of harmonious coexistence."

"The major warlords of Mariluo are sitting still, and it’s too dangerous."

"One is about to fall, and perhaps soon, there will be a second and third."

"Once someone unifies Mariluo, our pressure in the North will double."

"We need a perpetually chaotic Mariluo, not a Mariluo baptized by fire and blood. Such a Mariluo would be a nightmare!"

Mr. Truman followed Lynch’s deeper thoughts; it’s a turbulent country with constant civil wars. From teenagers in their teens to people in their sixties, everyone can take up arms and shoot.

Fighting is ingrained in their bones; perhaps they are weak now, but once unity is achieved within Mariluo, the Federation will have a hellish neighbor!

Having some thoughts, Mr. Truman asked, "Where is Sanchez now?"