Darkstone Code
Chapter 240 - 0238 Speechless

Chapter 240: 0238 Speechless

In the eyes of the working class, the Workers’ Union is their greatest pillar.

In fact, it does seem to be true. With the help of the Workers’ Union, capitalists and politicians have had to draft many policy bills regarding their welfare benefits, protecting their rights and ensuring some security in their lives.

The image of the Workers’ Union on paper is that of a worker smiling heroically towards the sun.

But in reality, the Workers’ Union, to some extent, is both the protector of workers and the partner of capitalists. The widely circulated cases where they stand on the workers’ side and achieve victory are actually against those small local companies without much reputation.

Try tackling large corporations?

Just the lengthy litigation process and costs can make the Workers’ Union voluntarily compromise and choose to give up, so at such times, they will switch roles, taking benefits from the corporate side in the name of helping the workers to seal the deal.

They will "secure" various benefits for the workers, but sometimes they are actually saving money for the capitalists. They have many ways to do this and make workers firmly believe they are rightful, just, and moral.

Among the workers Asir visited, approximately thirty percent have died due to various causes in the ensuing series of complications.

Less than ten percent retain health weaker than ordinary people, while most others suffer greatly from diseases, but these people are helpless.

From the moment they sat in a Workers’ Union office, signed documents in front of the mediator and company representatives, and pocketed hush money they thought they couldn’t get but the company initially planned to give them, they forfeited the responsibility to pursue further.

After spending that money, realizing it wasn’t nearly enough to restore their health, let alone keep them from living in agony, they are already powerless.

These people, rather than saying they are alive, it’s more accurate to say they are dead, their bodies and souls already numbed, also dead.

No hope, no future, suffering day by day in pain, living is no different from being dead, it’s only the innate attachment to life that keeps them holding on.

No one will pay attention to them, society won’t report on them; these matters are brutally suppressed, becoming the foundations beneath this illustrious society, not even at its foundation level.

Have they lost their value?

Not really, when the Workers’ Union, the local government, or some particular people need them, they will reappear in a manner that "shakes society, shakes the world."

They will showcase their pain to gain others’ tears, sympathy, and strength.

But none of this really relates much to them, in the end, they won’t gain much from it, maybe some symbolic donations and treatment opportunities they can’t afford, before returning to their lives, awaiting the day people need them and remember them.

Hundreds and thousands of such or similar occurrences form our society; beneath the prosperity lies no prosperity, but this is life, this is the real world.

"They are too pitiful, Lynch, I..." Asir’s expression was dynamically sincere for the first time, possibly his immigrant status made him empathize inexplicably, "I know I’m not supposed to say this, but can we help them?"

Holding a cup of coffee, Lynch actually preferred its aroma to tasting it. He sipped a little, then put the cup down, looking at Asir with a half-smile until the latter lowered his head and apologized to Lynch for his impulsive words.

"Mr. Lynch, sorry, I shouldn’t affect your judgment."

Lynch pursed his lips, his expression remained largely unchanged, he neither accepted the apology nor declined, instead he asked a question unrelated, "Asir, do you know why merchants’ ultimate goal is to become capitalists?"

Asir thought seriously for a while, but eventually shook his head, indicating he didn’t know.

Lynch smiled faintly, "Actually, it’s simple. Merchants are still people, with human emotions; they are bound by emotions that constrain their thoughts."

"Only when they are promoted to capitalist status, completely shedding human instincts and impulses, will they not be constrained by human emotions in their actions."

Lynch paused here, "You don’t need to apologize for your thoughts to me. I am not yet a capitalist, nor do I intend to become one."

"I’ve constantly reiterated to you, to my partners, making money is important, but assuming social responsibility is even more important!"

He looked directly at Asir without a high-pitched tone, without manic expressions; everything remained calm as usual, yet deep inside Asir’s stirred emotions, it felt like witnessing a new sun, radiant and glorious!

Lynch gestured vaguely, "Arrange for me to meet these people. I want to go and see them with my own eyes, and by the way, invite some reporters from newspapers, we’re going to make big news."

Though he achieved his goal, Asir didn’t feel as happy as he imagined, instead he was a bit puzzled, "Mr. Lynch, may I have the honor to know why you’re doing this?"

Lynch pondered briefly before smiling and stating, "This is responsibility, Asir, the greater your ability, the greater the responsibility you must shoulder."

"I am a man, not a capitalist, and I won’t do the same things as them!"

Perhaps Lynch’s words touched Asir; very soon, he fulfilled Lynch’s tasks, even exceeding them.

Once again it proves when people act for their desires or goals, they often can exert more effort and energy than for others.

To make this meeting happen, or whatever it might be, he specifically talked to the welfare institution’s director, who agreed without hesitation; he didn’t care about any issue related to exposure.

A foundational charitable establishment like a welfare institution, without exposure, there are no donations, and the director cooperated very well.

On the morning of December 30th, Lynch arrived at this welfare institution with a group of reporters.

Reporters, before coming here, were unclear about what to do, yet they came because it was Lynch who summoned them.

Lynch is an exceptionally charismatic young man, naturally, the money in his wallet holds charm too. Each time attending Lynch’s press conference or something, they get extra perks on their way out.

Don’t overlook those pens, notebooks, ink as trivial, but such little things can very well foster rapport, not to mention they include Interstellar Trade Company’s product vouchers, allowing them to freely obtain a certain level of second-hand product, which appears as good as new.

Only today, from the moment they got off the car, their faces no longer bore previous smiles; what they saw was immensely discomforting, a young female Reporter even covered her mouth and nose, fleeing out of the welfare institution, returning pale after a while.

In front of them were over twenty deformed elderly, some of whom were bloated like a pile of balls, their features severely damaged, crowded together almost as if burned.

Some parts of their skin were split open, revealing rotting flesh or pus, emanating a foul smell.

Some body parts swollen and large while other parts were skeletal.

Some individuals...

It was like Hell here, the faint odor of decay and stench in the air unsettling everyone.

"Gentlemen, this is what I hope you can record and report..." Lynch looked at each Reporter, "I don’t need you to brag about me, nor to hide anything; just use the most authentic language to describe your observations, letting more people know there’s a group like this, and such happenings!"

Next, Lynch kindly shook hands with every elder; although some had lost their hands, even half of their arms, exposing white bones and blackened necrotic muscles.

They emitted strange odors, foul smells, yet Lynch seemed utterly unfazed, sitting with them, asking them some questions.

Behind every deformed elder isn’t just a single person’s tragedy but the tragedy of a group. They mostly came from different production accidents.

Toxic material leaks, radioactive material exposure, machinery malfunctions... behind each accident, the injured weren’t just one person!

Unspeakably tragic?

Appalling?

That’s still not enough!

When nearing the end of visiting these elders, Lynch talked to the reporters about them and what society would eternally remain oblivious to.

"Actually, more people are enduring such torment, but at least they’re alive, have the opportunity to see the light from various sectors of society, while some have passed away in life’s darkest moments as they departed this world..."

In Lynch’s depiction, the Ristone Group became the Demon’s spokesperson, with at least over ten severely injured workers held on until being dragged to death on hospital beds due to the company’s refusal to pay for their medical expenses.

The cause of all this is these people’s medical costs far exceed the death compensation standard established by the Federation.

They prevent those workers from seeing a doctor, even initiating lawsuits to bankrupt their families, just to make them die quickly enough to pay a sum potentially not too much for the company as bereavement compensation.

To save expenses, even demons aren’t as professional as this, and such things happened during what was considered the most glorious era of the Federation.

These Reporters believed they had seen all the world’s ugliness, the dark side, yet even they were shattered by the news they received today!

On December 31, most local newspapers unexpectedly unified their titles, including influential papers like the Sabin Daily!

— "Hell is empty; demons walk the earth!"