People are ultimately profit-oriented animals, as long as the animals, it is difficult to get rid of the instinctive tendency, no one in this world can be absolutely rational, often in the face of choice, will choose the most favorable to their own that option.
Unlucky a person, save themselves, but also save the face of the Sabine City Tax Office, more so that all law enforcement system to save some points, how to choose, Johnson's heart has actually long been clear, he just do not want to say it.
The more people's hearts are filled with ugliness and darkness, the more they aspire to purity, but the more they aspire to purity, the more they also want to destroy it, no matter by what means.
Humanity may be called "human nature" because the nature of man is complex enough and depraved enough to set off and give more meaning to the word "human nature".
Chief Johnson took a handkerchief and wiped the sweat from his forehead, Lynch's calm gaze made him feel as if it was like the tip of a needle sticking in his body, making him very uneasy and less comfortable.
He rarely encountered such a well-disguised but highly aggressive gaze, the gaze of a superior, as if he had given himself a condition and knew that he was unable to make a choice on his own, but also pretended to be generous enough to let himself choose, but he was only able to choose this only answer.
It hurt a little, the sweat on his face, more sweat on his neck, maybe it was just the heat in here, or maybe it was the stress of being "alone" and face to face with Lynch that made him feel so much pressure, he suddenly stood up.
There had been a movement to draw his chair away from him and turn away after he had stood up, and the movement paused here, and with a little inexplicable weakness he explained, "I'm going to think about it, yes, think about it ..."
He glanced at Lynch, who made a "go ahead" gesture, he wiped off his sweat while walking out of the barbecue restaurant, he stood on the sidewalk with a wet handkerchief in his hand, looked back at Lynch, who was looming in the shadows of the crowd, his hand trembling slightly.
His hands were a little less obedient, and his sudden irritation caused him to violently slam the slightly heavy and soggy handkerchief in his hands to the ground, and he gasped loudly under his breath, the strange stares of passing pedestrians quickly calming him down.
He slapped his mouth, got into the car, shivered, pulled out the key and shoved it into the lock cylinder, fired it up, put his foot on the gas, and quickly disappeared down the road.
Upon returning home Johnson locked himself in his study, and on rare occasions he took down a bottle of the spirits used to adorn the wine rack, he only drank when he was entertaining, he didn't like to drink per se, which may have had something to do with the fact that his alcoholic father used to beat him and his mother when he was a child after a drunken night out.
Forty years have passed, some things and some people have become the past tense, but some things are as if they are still at that moment more than forty years ago, and have not changed in the slightest so far.
Drink after drink, the strong odor of alcohol accompanied by an equally strong sense of guilt made his mood swings very strong, because his decision would change the lives of three people, even destroy them, but he had no other choice.
Commissioner Johnson is a good man, at least that's what the people at the tax office say, it's his gentleness that has brought him to the Commissioner's position, and it's his gentleness that has stopped him from this moment, but now all that is about to change.
The next day, the director who was seen to be getting by and talking well disappeared and was replaced by a director who always frowned and had a pale sharp feeling in his voice.
The next few days in the public opinion continued to ferment the state of affairs, Sabine City, a small city in the second tier of the Baylor Federation, for the first time became the focus of the whole Federation and even the whole world, and this feeling ... is very peculiar.
Fresh faces appear on the streets of the city's central neighborhoods, always with a microphone in their hands, and interview vans not far from them.
The workers' union even launched a one-day strike over the weekend over the issue, and the Sabine City union management made a point of visiting Lynch to express their outrage at the abuses by law enforcement.
All in all it was an amazing thing and everyone found it refreshing.
In the midst of this novelty, Michael Jr.'s case went to trial, and because Michael himself was now all over the place, and because Michael Jr. refused any visitation, an attorney was appointed on the court's side to act as Michael Jr.'s defense attorney.
After more than half an hour of deliberation between the defense attorneys and Michael Jr. the defense attorneys agreed with Michael Jr.'s move to plead guilty and would try to help him get as little jail time as possible.
For lawyers who already have to rely on court assignments to make a living, win rates and whatnot have long since fallen out of their minds, and it's a day at a time when they can make a living.
In this case, Michael Jr. appeared in the courtroom at the defense table.
Michael's request to sit in was granted; he was, after all, Michael Jr.'s father, and the court allowed him to come and sit in, even though he was now under house arrest awaiting the outcome of another injury case.
Only three or five days of time have not seen, father and son in the courtroom meeting as if a year so long, Michael looked at the haggard little Michael heart like a knife, little Michael reluctantly smiled.
Michael Jr. read a guilty plea that he didn't know where it came from, and at the end of a series of processes, the attorney helped Michael Jr. get a nine-month sentence, and frankly burglary with only a nine-month sentence exceeds many people's expectations.
Citing Michael Jr.'s underage age, lack of any prior criminal history, and the fact that he grew up with a full scholarship and was a good kid with good character, the attorney argued that his burglary was more of a crime of passion with no subjective awareness.
The court, for its part, skimmed through the relevant material and ultimately endorsed the defense attorney's plea, giving a minimum sentence, and it has to be said that Michael Jr.'s ability to receive a full scholarship year-round helped him.
Michael was ejected from the courtroom for disturbing the order twice during the hearing, but the judge could understand his feelings and made a point of granting him permission to meet with Michael Jr. later.
At this moment, Michael held his head in his hands and cried in silent agony, he constantly hammered his forehead, his head with his fists, his palms, as if he was hating himself.
The quiet hallway made his slight drooping sobs much more noticeable, and as he was in agonizing pain, he felt someone sit beside him.
Michael was like a wounded lion, he opened his mouth without lifting his head, and the word "fuck off" tore through his vocal cords and spewed out of his throat, filled with tyrannical emotions.
But the man sitting next to him was unmoved, and the next thing Michael heard was the sound of a lighter striking fire, followed by the strong smell of cigarettes.
He wiped the tears from his eyes and face, not wanting his mess to be seen by anyone else, he was a tough guy, he felt himself to be, and he would tell those around him to get the hell away from him by being a tough guy.
Just as he was about to growl, a familiar voice rang in his ears!
"I wouldn't do that if I were you!"
Lynch, it's Lynch!
Michael would never forget that voice for the rest of his life, and it had become the main source of his nightmares lately, as he glared viciously, with crying red eyes, at Lynch, "You came to see me laugh, and you're proud of it?"
Lynch bristled as he handed over a cigarette, Michael casually smacked Lynch's hand away, the cigarette tumbled and bounced a few times on the floor, rolling under a bench on the other side of the hallway.
"Have you always been like this, thinking that everyone should accept your foul temper?" , Lynch withdrew his hand, which had been frozen in the air for a few seconds, in disbelief, a hint of indifference in his eyes.
His face was smiling, but there was little laughter in his eyes, and grumpy Michael closed his mouth as he lowered his head and looked at his hands, as if he were lost in his own world again.
Lynch looked at him and shrugged, standing up and looking down at him, "I'm just here to tell you that our feud is almost over."
"You will get what you deserve and you don't have to worry too much about your boy, he has plenty of boyfriends in prison ..."
Michael storms up again, his hands grabbing Lynch's collar while Lynch holds his hands up.
The lion is wounded, but it's still a lion.
Lynch, not in the least bit intimidated by the gruesome aura of Michael's body, said in a tone tinged with jest, "I'd let go of my hand if I were you, you and your son have already paid for your transgressions, you need to think of your wife as well ..."
In the next second, Michael's fierce eyes instantly turned pale, although the lion was terrifying, it was ultimately no match for the hunter.
Lynch smiled as he straightened his collar and said, "Well, I've said all I have to say, have a nice vacation, Mr. Michael!"
As the footsteps moved further and further away, Michael turned his head stiffly and watched as Lynch disappeared into the afterglow of the sun on the other side of the corridor, and it was as if his consciousness was also overwhelmed by the light the moment Lynch merged into the sun's afterglow.
It's like ... drowning, so you can't breathe!
Even if that's the light!