Every family has dead ends that other people's eyes don't see, and many people envy Michael's family and his house; after all, being able to move into a middle-class neighborhood at such a young age wasn't an easy thing to do.
But who would have thought that the house wasn't always as intact as Lynch thought it would be.
Some of the outdated appliances have not been replaced until now, some of the wallpaper is faintly yellow with decay, some of the decorative plasterboards are starting to crack, and some of the floors are not as stable as they used to be under the age and insect infestation.
Every family has some similar issues, some just in terms of decorative furnishings and others in terms of family relationships.
It's a good thing that the nature of Michael's job and organization keeps his family from having too many problems with family relationships, and the management in the key departments makes sure that his family is well-fed and clothed, with some extra money to spare.
As long as financial freedom is realized, most of the time relationships between family members are not unpleasant, and feelings or passions are essentially based on material things that may be unnecessarily manic in the eyes of some people.
The zhiya sound of twisting and scraping planks resounded through the empty house when masthead's foot hit a floorboard that Mrs. Michael had failed to replace even after two mentions.
In the middle of the night, if a person rattles from the living room, it's enough to make many people's nerves, which have become sensitive in the darkness, tense up all at once.
Mrs. Michael turned on the light, and she went to the door, her ear pressed against the panel to listen to the sounds outside.
She was the only one in the house today, and the maid wasn't a full-time maid of the live-in variety; their house wasn't a villa, it wasn't an estate, it was just an ordinary single-family house in a middle-class neighborhood.
They didn't have a spare bedroom or washroom for the maid to use, and with their children not returning from full-time private school, she was the only one in the room.
The woman in her thirties listened carefully for a while, and there didn't seem to be any more loud noises coming from the living room downstairs, and the sound she had just heard so violently was like a hallucination that wasn't so real.
Facing the door, she was a little torn between going out and looking around.
Normally Michael would be at home, she had never realized that a large house would bring her a feeling of terrible fear as it did now, just a door away, but it had also become the junction of light and darkness.
Opening the door and facing the darkness head on, not everyone has the courage to do so.
Meanwhile, masthead, gun clutched in his hand, stepped gingerly and slowly up the stairs to the second floor, his gaze menacing and with a hint of madness fixed on the light behind the doorway below a door in the second floor hallway.
The lights seemed to be trying to break free from the small cracks and light up the room to dispel the darkness, but they were too weak, so weak that they could only illuminate the floor less than an inch away from the cracks.
Barefoot and keeping a gentle pace, he slowly made his way to the door of the master bedroom, knowing that the floor he had just stepped on might have alerted someone in the room, and he waited, waiting for the other person to take the initiative to open the door.
After ten seconds or so, Mrs. Michael opened the door with some hesitation, an ugly face took up her entire vision, and a subconscious scream out of fear was punched back less than half a second after it rang out!
Outside the house, Lynch saw two shadows flashing quickly past the window through the incompletely blacked-out curtains, and the sudden loud screaming came to a screeching halt; it hadn't even alerted the surrounding neighbors.
Lynch gathered up the tools in his hands and silently climbed down the pole, glanced twice at the lighted windows, and turned his head toward the front door.
If masthead doesn't come to him and is willing to eat this dumb shit, then there won't be any more masthead or his story present in the whole thing.
But his unwillingness to eat his words and come to the door means that masthead is an unstable element who could very well become a huge problem, especially since his greed has the potential to turn into a dagger stabbed at him in the dark.
Once Michael had taken him into his confidence and convinced him that his money was being withheld from him, there was a good chance that they would work together, and that was not a situation Lynch liked.
When enemies are able to join forces, it means that they are about to face more trouble that they are not prepared for, so he gave masthead a trick.
He was going to teach Michael a lesson that would hurt him enough to get to his heart, but he was also going to clean up Masthead while he had the chance, otherwise Masthead would be climbing all over the police station, and would most likely be able to blame himself for the ones he said he had.
This was one of Lynch's biggest fears; he wasn't exactly a celebrity in the Baille Federation at the moment, and not many people had even heard of him in this small city, Sabine.
A head of a Federal District Tax Office investigation team really shamelessly trying to set someone up may not be impossible to make true, and with a character like masthead cooperating with Michael by way of self-flagellation in the process, there's a real chance that Lynch could get caught by them.
After absorbing a lot of knowledge in that small place, he came to the conclusion that he should try not to let his potential enemies form alliances; the more people there are, the more they are emboldened, and in the end they will turn the "possible" into the "real".
Whether they succeed or fail, it's just an attempt for them, but for themselves, it could be devastating, and the best solution is for them to "fix" them before they make an alliance, so that they don't have the means to become one.
Lynch ran towards the location of the guard post and soon found the security guard on duty, who immediately got his attention after he told him what he had found.
Earlier, after Michael found Lynchover here, he made a point of asking the community service company to take better care of his house, and illustrated his concern about leaving his wife alone in the house after he had to go on a business trip.
For Michael's entrusted service company side to ensure that will do their best to fulfill his mandate, after all, is the local tax bureau investigation team leader, or have some power.
The service company explained this matter to the security guards, and at this time the security guards heard about it where they still dared to be slow, not only did they use the walkie-talkie to summon more people, but those who were on guard duty at the post also immediately ran over in the direction of Michael's house.
The other batch of patrolling security guards had not yet arrived, and he gritted his teeth and rushed towards the door of the room, not forgetting to ask loudly about the situation in the room while doing so.
Sometimes the sounding of the alarm is not to alert the criminal that those who are out to get him are coming, but rather to abort the criminal behavior as much as possible in that way, and the police, or the Bureau of Investigation, they are not that stupid!
Suddenly the curtains of the second floor were lifted, masthead looked at the security guard who tumbled into the yard in horror, glanced back at Mrs. Michael who had lost the courage to resist by his beating, reached out and clutched the gun in his hand, still made the decision to flee immediately.
He hadn't come to get killed, he'd only come to get revenge, and even though he hadn't accomplished what he'd initially planned, he'd more or less gotten his revenge, and there was no need to strand himself here.
He put the belt he'd just loosened back on and rushed straight out of the room and tumbled down the second floor, and before he had a chance to run out, the door to the room was slammed open.
Four eyes, the confrontation at that moment and the sound of a whistle coming from the distance brought masthead right back to his senses, he subconsciously pulled out the gun in his pocket and ran towards the front door while yelling, "Don't make me, get the hell away from the door!"
Faced with the threat of a handgun the vast majority of people would not feel that their flesh and blood could stop the damage of a bullet, the security guard's scalp went numb and he raised his hands ...
A twisted grin crossed masthead's face at the sight, as he once again realized the power of this little cutie in his hands.
Witnessing masthead's departure, the security guard rushed upstairs to look for Michael's wife while using his radio intercom to tell the other security guards about the place.
In less than thirty seconds, the siren of a police car sounded outside the neighborhood - places where the middle class gathered would always have a lot of police patrol cars, and some neighborhoods where the upper class gathered would even have two to three police cars listening outside all year round.
As for some of the poorer downtown areas or slums, of course the officials will never recognize this concept, and in which areas there are not even patrolmen, not to mention police cars.
The society is so simple and direct, how much you are worth, the society will give you the treatment in line with your own value!