"That's right, we're civilized!" , Lynch took a step back as he straightened his collar, "Is there anything else, if not, I'll be off, I've got a lot to do!"
Michael couldn't help but step forward again and growl in a low voice, "This is between us, you don't fuck with my family, you're breaking the rules!"
"Rules?" , Lynch said with some doubt on his face, "I'm not in your industry, I haven't dealt with you much, are you sure those rules you're talking about are appropriate for me?"
He said and smiled, "Of course, I'm a law abiding citizen, I don't need you to remind me of that, so if you have nothing else to say, I'm going to leave."
He looked at Michael and the two stared at each other for about three or five seconds before Michael moved out of the way and Lynch brushed past him with a slight nod of greeting.
Watching Lynch's departing back, Michael displayed his credentials inside his lapel before backing his car off the sidewalk and in no time at all pulling into a parking space in front of his house.
He quickly returned home and saw his wife tuning in to the daily afternoon sitcom and quickly walked over to hug his somewhat surprised wife, "Nothing out of the ordinary happened just now, did it?"
"I mean no one has come knocking on the door or invaded our yard, right?"
His wife is several years younger than he is, which is why so many people want to get into the Federal Revenue Service every year; they have the highest salaries in the government system, the best benefits, the most favorable work environment and treatment, and all sorts of unexpected perks.
This has made every Federal Revenue Service worker a meat and potatoes like presence in the marriage market, and whether they are men or women, they are able to find the person of their choice.
Most men will go for a younger lady, and it's not uncommon for them to be three, five or even ten years younger than they are.
Michael's wife is six years younger than him and he has always cherished his wife.
"No, no one's coming, I've been sitting here all afternoon seeing the TV, I'd have noticed if someone came."
Coming in through the front door right into the living room, where if someone knocked on the door or entered the yard, the intruder was perfectly visible through the brightly lit windows in the wall, the afternoon was very calm, so calm that she was on the verge of falling asleep.
Michael sat on the couch with his arm around his wife's shoulders, not knowing how to talk about the fact that he was going on a business trip, much less how to tell her wife to watch out for Lynch who might show up again.
On the other side, after a few rounds outside and buying some electrician's supplies Lynch returned to his temporary place of residence, he pulled out the key and was opening the door when the guy coming from behind suddenly closed in on his side and a sharp object was pressed against his waist.
A voice with a strong odor of bad breath followed in his ear, "Where's my money?"
There was only a slight pause in Lynch's movements before he proceeded to open the door, and he pushed it open and took a leg out toward the inside while saying, "If you don't want someone to call 911, you'd better come in here with me, and if there's any problems we can work them out through communication."
In this process of less than five seconds Lynch had already locked the identity of this guy behind him, thanks to the accumulation of so many years in his previous life, this body that was only twenty years old full of energy and everything was still at its peak gave him an indescribable feeling of pain, everything was within his grasp, he had not perceived his own power as clearly as he did now.
The man outside the door was a little hesitant, but he still followed, more than two thousand dollars was not a small amount of money for him, he was surprised that this young man Lynch was not afraid of the knife in his hand.
The room is not big, a bedroom attached to the door, an inner room used to freshen up, the room vaguely smells of ... shit, the newspaper head raised an eyebrow, he thought it would be cleaner here.
That night Lynch came back and rinsed for a long time before settling the feces and water that had completely penetrated his pants, except that the smell couldn't be dispersed to this day, and even though it had been rinsed out many times and perfumed, there was still some stench that couldn't be hidden.
"You and Michael are your own business, not mine, give me back my money!" , the newspaper head gestured the dagger in his hand and reiterated his point.
After the newsboys went back he collected those newspaper packets from the newsboys, and it turned out that there were only two thousand dollars or so, almost two thousand six hundred or seven hundred less, which was not a small amount of money, and with his earning power of selling newspapers, it could be his income for several months.
He wasn't going to let the money just disappear into his world, he'd gone to Michael, who'd said he had nothing to do with it, and he'd have to come to Lynch now, maybe the young man was a little better to talk to.
"I just want my money back, you understand, and none of it has anything to do with me!"
Lynch sat down on the bed after simply cleaning up, he crossed his legs and rested his hands on his knees, he could tell that the newspaper head was nervous, he was a bit incoherent and kept emphasizing the dagger in his hand, but in reality he may not have been that scary.
His eyes fluttered, his lashes fluttering slightly, his gaze focused most of the time on the ground between the two of them, and he was fearing for himself, this was the first time he'd ever done anything like this, standing on someone else's turf with daggers, asking them to do something.
Lynch could already see how outwardly strong he was, and he chuckled, "You know, even if I killed you right now, the judge wouldn't judge me for anything because you broke into my room with the murder weapon in your hand."
Masthead snapped his head up to look back at the door behind him, the thought popping into his head for a split second that Lynch had asked him to come into the room to talk, not to avoid being seen by others, but to try and backstab him.
He became instantly more agitated and more intimidated as he realized that he had gone from being the hunter to the hunted, which caused his breathing to become so rapid that he had the feeling that he was about to suffocate.
He took a few steps backward and raised the knife in his hand, making a ferocious appearance, wanting to go forward to give Lynch a little color, such as cutting through his clothes, but he was afraid that Lynch would have some kind of backstabbing tactics, so he was a bit at a loss for a while.
Watching this guy fall into a state where he couldn't continue, only then did Lynch point to a chair on the side, "Why don't you sit down and let's have a good talk, violence won't solve anything!"
He spoke sincerely, and perhaps impressed by this sincerity, or perhaps Lynch's calm and collected manner affected the newspaper head, who agreed with him after a moment's consideration and sat down in his chair.
After he sat down, Lynch asked, "Actually, my loss was much greater than yours, I lost five thousand dollars!" The newspaper head revealed a visibly shocked expression when he finished this sentence, along with a hint of "I knew it" realization.
"Have you ever thought that maybe this is a setup?" , not waiting for the newspaper head to respond, Lynch continued to press the issue, "I divided the five thousand dollars among the five kids, they counted it, and I counted it in front of them, this money won't go wrong with me."
"After they left my room, did they go straight to your place, or did they go somewhere else?"
"If they will come to you directly, have you considered whether these newsboys are reliable?"
"If they went elsewhere, could someone outside of you and me have meddled in this?"
Lynch shrugged his shoulders and spread his hands with a regretful expression, "Michael told the others that he didn't get anything from me, but I really did lose five thousand dollars, and I think it's in his hands!"
These words soon set the ill-educated newspaper head to rambling, and to avoid exposing himself, and also to avoid being drawn into the case, he did not indeed appear in the neighborhood at that time, but waited a little farther down the alley.
The newsboy didn't go straight back to wherever he was after they got the money, but went to meet Michael in a room across the road for about a minute or two.
If something happens ... to this money, it could only be out of Michael's hands.
He had some faith in that by this time, and all these newsboys he had sent could be said to be of the kind he trusted, while they talked among themselves about the fact that they had counted the money, and that Lynch had counted it, and then had put in to watch with his own eyes the money being wrapped up the same way as it had been before.
Just as he began to remember these things, Lynch added, "We're all afraid to speak out in fear of certain people, and I'm sure we're not the only ones who are afraid to speak the truth, but those kids may not be afraid to speak the truth either."
"You came to me with a knife, in fact you came to the wrong person, ask the boys again, maybe you'll find something new."
Uneducated people are so gullible!
Once again, Lynch gave a caring, penetrating look.