Chapter 1338: Chapter 1337: Frequent Incidents
In fact, many people, when witnessing, hearing about, or seeing in movies those car accidents caused by vehicles losing control, might ponder a question.
If it were me, what would I do?
Those without driving skills might quickly dismiss this question, but those with some driving skills would think about how to regain control of the car.
But the reality isn’t so simple.
Due to technological limitations at the time in the Federation, cars didn’t have power steering systems.
Once the steering is out of control, the massive force and direction would jam the steering wheel either left or right. To fight this force physically?
It would be more reliable to open the car door and extend a foot—brake the car by pressing it against the ground!
The Prison Director remained quite calm when the vehicle lost control. He tried to rescue the steering wheel, but it was clear he couldn’t. He did two things next.
The first thing, protect his body, ensuring there’s some distance between himself and the structure of the car.
The second thing, take out his gun and hold it in his hand.
If this isn’t an accident... it certainly isn’t an accident, then the other party would definitely come down to check the situation.
At that moment, it would be the best opportunity to counterattack!
The car lost direction and dashed off the road, the ground outside the roadbed was open terrain, and the side close to the road was relatively solid.
Fortunately for the Prison Director, the car didn’t overturn; after several collisions with rocks, it stopped.
He planned to play dead, but to his surprise, the truck that hit him off the road didn’t stop, and neither did the driver come down.
The truck roared away towards the city, and the Prison Director inside the car even forgot to note the license plate!
Could this... could this be an accident?
Or is there something else, some other conspiracy?
He sat in the car pretending to be unconscious, waited for quite a while, and no one approached.
Occasionally, one or two cars passed by on the road, but apparently, those people didn’t have any compassion.
Not only did they not stop to see what happened to this car that had run off the road, they accelerated away from here instead.
These days, once you leave the area illuminated by civilized neon lights, the law loses its effectiveness!
After a while longer, the Prison Director gave up the pretense, got out of the car, and looked around, not seeing anyone appearing to ambush him.
He returned to the car side, regrettably, the car was already immovable.
After the car ran off the road, it had collided with several rocks and couldn’t start again.
He pounded on the roof with all his might, cursing angrily.
To this moment, he still didn’t understand whether this was an accident or a premeditated attack?
But whatever it was, he now had to leave here.
Without a car, he had to walk; on the road, he tried to hitchhike, but people, seeing he was a man, had no interest in stopping.
He walked while making hitchhiking gestures until around five o’clock, when a police car stopped beside him.
"Need help, sir?"
The Prison Director carefully identified the men; they were intercontinental highway patrol officers.
Their job is patrolling the intercontinental highways, more for deterrence than actual work need.
Crime is frequent on the Federation’s intercontinental highways, because these places often have no witnesses, and handling bodies or wreckage is relatively easy.
To reduce crime rates and deter these criminals’ brutal behavior, various states increased patrols on the interstate highways.
After confirming that these two police officers were not impostors, the Prison Director recounted his ordeal.
"Do you remember the license plate of that truck?" Inside the car, one police officer drove while the other took notes for him.
The Prison Director shook his head, "Everything happened too fast, and I was very nervous. I can’t remember what the truck’s license plate was."
The police officer displayed a somewhat regretful expression, "This way, we can’t catch that guy as quickly as possible. Besides this, is there anything else to add?"
The police officer handed the record to the Prison Director. After taking a glance to make sure there was nothing to amend, he confirmed his name with the help of the patrolman.
Soon the city emerged before them, and the Prison Director breathed a sigh of relief. As long as within the city limits, everything would be safe.
After refusing to go to the hospital, the car eventually stopped outside an upscale neighborhood in the city.
After thanking the two patrolmen for their assistance, as the Prison Director was about to leave, the officer who had been communicating with him called out to him.
"My father once told me, making a mistake isn’t terrible, as long as one can realize it in time..."
Upon hearing this sentence, the Prison Director felt a bit baffled. What is all this nonsense? He even wondered if he heard it wrong?
Or perhaps he bumped his head during the collision?
He turned and looked at the officer in the car with a puzzled expression, "Sorry, what did you just say?"
The officer just continued to smile and said, "It’s still not too late to call and apologize now; don’t wait until everything is irreversible, then regret it!"
"Good luck, sir!"
The officer slowly left, the Prison Director stood there for a long time, still unable to understand what the officer’s final two sentences meant.
He instinctively pulled out the business card the officer had given him earlier from his pocket.
This was given to him by the police in the car earlier, saying it was their business card, and he could call them if he remembered any details.
At the time, he didn’t pay much attention and just put it in his pocket, but now, upon taking it out and examining it closely, he discovered it actually had the name "Noel Green" written on it!
A feeling he couldn’t describe filled his entire body, and the business card in his hand suddenly felt burning hot. He shivered and dropped it to the ground.
He knew that the other party was telling him in this way that they could quietly get rid of him or let him be safe, as long as he made the call and then submitted.
If the Prison Director at this moment had been an ordinary middle-class person smoothed by society, he would have submitted.
But he was the Prison Director, an emperor of his own little kingdom; he couldn’t submit so easily.
He looked at the business card on the ground, many thoughts flashed and were extinguished in his mind.
In the end, he picked up the business card, but he didn’t intend to make the call immediately.
He needed to make the Green brothers understand that he would not submit, but rather use another method.
The people on the other side could find people; he could also find people. Everyone would sit down in a relatively equal manner to talk about this matter and resolve it, instead of him submitting.
He returned home, and his wife opened the door for him. Although she was a bit surprised by his disheveled appearance, the fact that he was unharmed was the best news.
He didn’t tell his wife about what had happened during this time, even his disheveled state was explained as the car breaking down on the road.
He didn’t want anyone to worry about him or worry about other matters.
At nine o’clock in the evening, he contacted the Governor’s Staff Officer; running a private prison was not an easy task.
Besides needing money, it also required sufficient connections within the Federation Government and strong relationships in the Ministry of Justice.
Otherwise, everyone knows this is profitable, so why let you do it, right?
After contacting his friends, the Prison Director explained his situation, and they also expressed willingness to help him and the Green brothers. Little Fox to mediate, allowing them to sit down and resolve the issue peacefully.
With such arrangements, the Prison Director finally breathed a sigh of relief.
A portion of his annual income, about one-third, was channeled to various state officials through various channels.
Now that he was in trouble, these people ought to come forward to help him solve the problem. This is the way capitalists and officials get along in the Federation.
At eleven o’clock at night, the Prison Director drifted into a heavy sleep troubled with thoughts.
On the other side, Noel looked at his watch and shook his head.
It was evident that the Prison Director would not call to apologize.
"We’ve been underestimated!"
Fern had one foot on the table, polishing his shoes.
He spent a thousand on these shoes and liked them very much.
Money wasn’t important; what mattered was liking them. Handmade shoes are hard to replicate exactly. He always took good care of these shoes.
After putting down the shoe polish tools, he adjusted his attire, "I think we shouldn’t have given him this chance from the start. It made me miss Millionaire, and today is the monthly final!"
Noel shook his head, "We have to learn to be civilized people, and you can watch tomorrow’s replay..."
The two brothers turned off the lights and left the office one after the other.
The next day, the Prison Director donned his best suit and, with his wife, attended their son’s high school graduation ceremony in formal attire.
The ceremony was divided into two parts: one held during the day with teachers, parents, and students participating, summarizing the students’ development and changes over the past three years and envisioning their future.
Just saying nice things.
Another part is the evening graduation dance, as the young men and women would soon be apart, and they ought to have the chance to release one last burst of passion.
Dancing, followed by intimate personal exchanges or casual encounters, there was always something suitable for them.
This was their last harbor on the journey of life, after which they would face the storm of life.
If one dares to speak up, it’s not out of the question to achieve goals unmet in the past three years.
A bit after nine, the Prison Director and his wife appeared on the high school campus.
This was a private high school, and the expensive emerald-green turf was crowded with parents of graduates. They came from all walks of life, the worst also being middle-class.
For them, this was also a very special experience.
Everyone chatted away; everything was so perfect.
Kesai was preparing his speech draft, as he was about to give a speech as the student representative.
He had been preparing for this day for a long time.
Just then, someone found him, "Someone said you have a package waiting to be signed at the school gate. You need to go there..."
Kesai smiled, thanked them, and left the backstage. He saw the Prison Director and his mother and waved.
He made a gesture indicating he was going to fetch something and walked towards the school gate.
His mother, arm in arm with the Prison Director, had a happy smile on her face, "He is indeed handsome, and he will surely become an extraordinary person."
The Prison Director nodded with pride, looking at his son, at his tall figure, watching him stand at the school gate, signing on a clipboard.
"Yes, he will become a..."
The next second, a car came from seemingly nowhere and slammed into him!
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