Chapter 1340: Chapter 1339: Proactive Compensation
In the distance, the ambulance drew closer, soon arriving at this sparsely populated intersection.
The ambulance took a detour, but those inside couldn’t tell, as they couldn’t see.
Their emotions were entirely focused on the person needing urgent care, so they wouldn’t immediately notice the detour.
A young man standing by the roadside took off his hat and waved it.
In the direction not visible from another ambulance, a heavy truck began to accelerate.
Coincidentally, the red light flashed, yet the ambulance didn’t stop, and the truck surged forward.
Was it a coincidence or an accident?
The heavy truck tore the ambulance apart from the cab and the compartment!
The compartment was struck and flew out, while the cab remained in place...
Time rewinds to ten seconds earlier.
After comforting his wife briefly, the Prison Director felt hatred seeping from his heart.
He not only wanted to kill old Fox but torture him.
Along with him, his son, the one called young Fox, and the Green brothers—all must pay for what his son endured!
As a father, a mature middle-aged man with rich experience, he knew his son might not survive.
The only thing he could do now, which he had the chance to do, was to avenge his child.
At that moment, he turned abruptly, looking behind him, as a horn blared like a giant beast, his eyes widened.
The vehicle, under his gaze, transformed slowly when the cab and body collided, he even saw tiny fragments break off.
He saw the compartment reshaped into the cabin’s form.
He saw...
Time became slow, as if uncontrollably lifted into the air, suddenly pondering.
When Kesai faced death, did he experience the same slowness and sensitivity?
He tried hard to turn and face his wife, his hand reaching for Kesai’s hand while holding his wife’s tightly.
He regretted it, why didn’t he make that phone call last night?
He knew the world was dark, knew the truth was chilling.
Yet he always believed, naively, that if he integrated with the dark, nothing would hurt him.
It was not until now he realized the black in front wasn’t black.
In the next second, time resumed as normal, he was flung against the opposite compartment, losing consciousness instantly.
In the end, he couldn’t hold Kesai’s hand.
"Boss, the problem’s been dealt with."
The young man who had waved his hat walked into a phone booth and dialed Noel.
Noel was shooting with Fern, standing by the range, holding an exquisite Kleve in one hand and the phone in the other.
The purple-red vest gave off a glorious sheen, fitting snugly against his body.
The translucent shirt seemed to expose his body yet didn’t.
He was dressed entirely in high society attire, took a breath on the Kleve, swirling it briefly in the air before exhaling slowly.
"I heard teachers love having students check their work, maybe you should check yours."
"I hope I don’t hear you saying ’I’m sorry, sir’ over the phone next, understand?"
The person on the other end nodded repeatedly.
Noel hung up and returned to the table, picked up the gun, and emptied it into the distant target.
They transformed from oppressed welfare home children into elite figures.
Even if they just stepped on the threshold!
Noel was smart, smarter than Fern.
Fern seemed a composed madman, appearing normal, speaking methodically, even wearing gold-rimmed glasses.
But he was insane, capable of dismembering people while humming nursery rhymes.
Able to dance while riddling someone with bullets, then tap dance in the blood pool.
Despite feigning being ordinary, he couldn’t change these facts.
Yet Noel wasn’t, he was smart, intelligence was his duty.
He knew bullets killed the simplest and most efficient, but as Lynch said, shootings were always dangerous; only accidents were safe.
The outcomes of shootings and accidents were identical, but a shooting verdict leaves no hope, even with the best lawyer team, once first-degree murder is established.
Even if released, it would be five or six decades later.
But accidents differed; drivers involved in accidents could return after paying sufficient fines within one or two years.
Using one’s mind is far superior to not using it!
Accidents are effective, cost-efficient; why not use them?
"Is it over?"
Watching the handgun with an empty hammer click, Fern looked at Noel, who nodded.
Fern whistled, picked up the rifle, and fired at the distant target until the bullets were all gone.
Once, Fern asked Noel a question, about how long they would keep doing this.
Then Noel beat Fern up and told him that when the gun in your hand starts to have its own thoughts, it loses its value.
As Lynch’s unseen power, the only way they can prove their worth is by consistently solving problems for Lynch.
If one day, they suddenly don’t want to do this...
Moreover, apart from this job, they have no idea what other work they could do.
At the intersection where the accident occurred, the truck driver was blaming the ambulance driver for running a red light, totally unprepared for someone to do that, thinking he shouldn’t be responsible.
As for the ambulance driver—
Yes, he was fine, not only him, but the doctor and nurse as well, just a bit shaken.
They were sitting in the cab of the car; it was the rear that was hit; they miraculously emerged without a scratch!
While defending himself, the driver also accused the truck driver of driving too fast.
Elsewhere, a young man reached the severely damaged cab.
The young man and the woman were already dead.
The IV stand had pierced through the woman’s head, and the young man was torn in half.
The only one seemingly without any obvious wounds was the Prison Director himself.
He was trapped, so the doctors, after checking him, did not immediately perform first aid, instead waiting for the firefighters to come and help.
The young man stepped in and accidentally woke the Prison Director, who struggled to open his eyes and look at him.
His eyes were bloodshot, with the left eye mostly covered in blood, giving him an eerie appearance.
The young man bent down, casually picked up a small iron hammer used for reflection, then crouched down, "You shouldn’t have been so arrogant; you brought this upon yourself..."
He lifted the small hammer and swung it forcefully, with a thud, and the Prison Director’s head could no longer lift.
Then the second blow, the third...
Until the head was dented, the young man discarded the hammer and quickly disappeared into the crowd.
The two drivers, including the doctor, seemed to notice this. They stopped arguing and began minding their own business, as now they no longer needed to draw police attention.
That night, old Fox and the young men who entered at the orders of the Green brothers to protect him were respectfully brought out of isolation by the guards.
Even, old Fox sat in the Prison Director’s office chair having dinner.
"The dinner is abundant and quite delicious, a bit sad thinking I might never taste these delicacies again."
He said with a pleasant smile, picking up a napkin to wipe his beard.
A person needs something to do, or they’ll quickly waste away.
Growing a beard is a good pastime, simple, convenient, doesn’t take up space, and can give a sense of accomplishment.
Every day it grows a bit, you need to continually stimulate the roots for faster growth.
You also have to groom it, preventing it from becoming brittle and splitting.
From a smooth chin to a full beard, it’s quite interesting.
The representative sent by the investors, sitting opposite him, nodded uneasily, "If you like them, I can have the chef leave with you..."
The investors were already aware of how the Prison Director died, or rather, the directors knew.
They investigated the Green brothers, then discovered Lynch standing behind them, and quickly abandoned any ideas of avenging the Prison Director.
That would be foolish; who would sacrifice their future, even their life, for someone who couldn’t read the situation?
It’s not worth it!
So they promptly resolved the cause by releasing old Fox, agreeing to transfer him, and canceled all contracts except the mandatory ones.
Now they only wished old Fox would leave immediately; if he wanted, the prison would arrange people to drive him to Bupen overnight!
Old Fox pursed his mouth, "May I ask where the Prison Director went?"
He knew something had changed, or he wouldn’t be dining in the Prison Director’s seat, but he didn’t know what happened to the Prison Director.
It was mere curiosity.
The person opposite hesitated before revealing, "He was in a car accident; the whole family is dead..."
There was a hint of fear in the eyes of the person speaking.
The method was brutal, wiping out the entire family!
What’s more horrifying is that the police confirmed it as an accident caused by the ambulance running a red light, regarding the deaths...
It was just bad luck for them.
The truck driver was already bailed out; the bail was just one hundred and fifty bucks; the lawyer believes he has a good chance of getting off because it was the ambulance running the red light that caused the crash.
Of course, in order to secure greater chances, out of humanitarian reasons, the truck driver compensated the already deceased Prison Director’s family with twenty thousand bucks.
This proactive attitude might sway the honorable judge.
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