Chapter 391: 393. Chapter 387: The End

393. Chapter 387: The End

Lans, who had just walked out of the cemetery, let out a soft sigh. A child barely in his teens having to shoulder the heavy responsibility of leading a family—this was just too…

He didn't know how to put it.

From a rational standpoint, this was clearly the wrong choice. Francisco was far too young, while his uncles and aunts were in the prime of life and very capable.

This would lead the Pasreito family toward an even more desolate decline—one that would be very hard to reverse!

People were willing to listen to Paul because Paul had already been an adult with a certain record of accomplishments when he inherited the position.

Setting aside his uncles and aunts, at the very least Paul's brothers and sisters accepted him, which was why he could sit firmly in that seat.

But now, who would accept Francisco?

This was bound to plant the seeds of problems, which would then escalate and finally erupt.

But people are not rational creatures. After Paul's death, Alberto, who had been the recipient of Paul's kindness, wanted to protect his son and have his son regain control of the family. This couldn't be called wrong—only difficult!

So difficult that it might reach the point where he had to make enemies of everyone else in the Pasreito family!

But this was Alberto's choice. Lans would only support him, not deny him.

Everyone has to make choices when facing one crossroads after another. They have their own reasons and resolve for doing so. Others can't change that, and neither is he someone who can be changed.

Lans lit a cigarette and exhaled along with the stale air in his chest.

Laun drove the car over. After Lans got in, he asked, "How's things at the docks?"

Today was "payday." Over the past few days, some workers had already been willing to accept the current IOUs and return to their jobs.

This was also why Lans hadn't let the refugee workers reach full strength, because the dock management company would certainly still hire a considerable portion of these workers.

But there were also some people who, under the lobbying of the Labor Federation, the Dock Workers' General Union, and other unions, were trying to continue the strike and protest.

The dock management company hadn't been idle either—they had simply removed these workers from the worker roster.

In other words, these people were no longer dock workers!

They even had people go tell these striking workers that if they wanted to receive their wages from the previous half month, they would have to sign a "Waiver of Rights."

Simply put, after signing this "Waiver of Rights," they would lose the right to sue or otherwise take action against the docks.

The dock service company used half a month's wages—or a bit more—to completely buy out their right to sue the dock service company.

Naturally, no one would sign that. So if they didn't sign, they wouldn't get paid!

Lans's people and the police were both watching the docks. Once a problem arose, it had to be snuffed out!

Senator Cleveland also knew this. Everyone actually knew it, including the people at the Labor Federation, and even some of the workers themselves.

But now, they had no way back!

Laun said as he drove, "I just heard there was some disturbance. Still not clear what happened."

Lans thought for a moment. "Drive over there. Just to the entrance."

The convoy quickly merged into the traffic. Meanwhile, the atmosphere at the docks had already reached an extremely tense point!

Lans had provided five thousand jobs, and over a thousand people had stayed on their own accord before that. This meant that now, out of every two people, one could not return to the docks!

The initiative was now in the hands of the dock management company. They certainly wouldn't let people back just because "you want to come back"!

They would weed out the troublemakers and keep only those workers who were still decent.

Precisely because of this, many of the workers who weren't being taken back by the docks had already begun confronting the dock management company's people.

This included those former worker representatives!

Big Hu Zi stood in front of the newly arrived manager, the spittle flying from his mouth landing on the manager's face. "On what grounds are you not letting me go back to work?"

The manager merely looked at him with a forced smile. "You've been fired by the company. You're no longer our employee. There's no place for you here!"

"Fuck, I don't agree with what you're doing!"

The manager took out a handkerchief and wiped the spittle from his face. "That's your problem. I don't care!"

Just as he was about to turn and leave, Big Hu Zi suddenly grabbed him by the collar. "Until this is sorted out, you're not going anywhere!"

Other workers, including the worker representatives, also began to shout. All these troublemakers had been fired—this was something they couldn't stomach!

Big Hu Zi grabbing the manager by the collar was like a drop of water falling into a pan of scalding hot oil—in an instant, the already tense situation escalated!

The disgruntled fired employees overturned the tables used for signing. Some of them even picked up things nearby and began attacking the dock management company's people.

The situation here instantly spiraled out of control!

The manager took a punch to the face, but he wasn't scared in the slightest. "You're going to regret this, you know?"

Big Hu Zi cursed him while landing a hook that nearly made him curl up in pain, feeling sick and dry-heaving.

But he showed no sign of backing down, repeating that one line over and over—you're going to regret this!

The first to enter were the police. The dock management company might not be a particularly well-known enterprise federally, but in Jingang, it was one of the very few!

Their influence over this city was enormous. Charlie still needed to rely on their support—how could he possibly refuse their request?

These police came in quickly with riot shields and batons in hand. Without caring who was throwing punches, they raised their batons and started swinging at anyone fighting!

In an instant, these troublemaker workers were battling it out with the police!

A reporter excitedly kept pressing the shutter.

The weather was nice today; even without supplemental lighting, he could capture all the changes across the docks. He knew he had a big story in his hands!

But just as he was muttering to himself about the news report he'd send out along with these photos, suddenly the camera in his hand inexplicably felt lighter.

By the time he reacted, it had already been taken by two young men who looked… a little hard to mess with.

"No photography allowed here!" One of the young men fumbled with it for a while. He had never used this kind of camera before, then asked, "How do you get the film out?"

At that moment the reporter came to his senses. "Fuck, I'm a reporter from The New Paper. You're obstructing my freedom of the press!"

He also tried to grab the camera back. The young man, who still couldn't figure out how to remove the film roll, stepped back two paces, dodged his arm, and then smashed the camera in his hand hard onto the ground.

These small cameras were very precise instruments at the time. The people who made them might never have imagined they would be used in such a scenario.

So they hadn't made special provisions for drop resistance, which caused the camera's parts to scatter all over the ground.

He bent over with a smile, found the film, and pulled it all out. "They said this would do it?"

The reporter stared at his actions in disbelief. "What the hell did you just do?"

This camera was his most treasured possession—he'd spent a fortune to buy it—and now these sons of bitches had wrecked it!

His face flushed red as his blood pressure spiked, and he was about to charge forward in a rage, but suddenly stopped, because another young man had flipped open his coat, revealing a gun holster underneath.

The Great Equalizer can make most people come to their senses at the last moment. He slowly raised his hands and began backing away.

At that moment, an even louder clamor came from the distance. The reporter suddenly turned to look toward where the conflict was erupting—a large group of young men with red armbands on their sleeves, carrying the sailing team's baseball bats, had appeared on the dock.

Just like those police, they were viciously attacking the workers who were stirring up the conflict and unrest!

These people were more ruthless than the police, and more brazen than the police!

The already tense situation changed dramatically in an instant; the workers completely lost their ability to fight back and were beaten to the ground!

Some still resisted, only to draw even more people ganging up on them!

Everyone knew these people weren't police, but no one could say it out loud.

When he turned back, one young man had already moved on to the next "reporter," while the one left in front of him nudged the fragments on the ground with his foot and offered him a piece of advice—

"Get lost!"

Lans's car was parked just outside the dock. He watched the conflict on the dock without any emotional fluctuation.

Before this, he had actually sympathized with the dock workers. Even when Senator Williams proposed killing some dock workers to escalate the conflict, he had taken the initiative to use other methods to reduce the workers' casualties—although a few still died in the end.

But if they had done it their way, the casualties might have been even higher.

Mass incidents are extremely hard to control. Once the collective emotion erupts, individual rationality gets crushed to dust beneath the will of the group!

Lans isn't a saint—he just felt there was no need to go that far. He hoped these people would firmly stand by his side and become his helpers.

But the moment he turned around, these people abandoned standing with him for the sake of profit—just because they could work one less hour a day and earn a few dozen more in wages each month?!

His friendship isn't that cheap!

But he wasn't angry either, because these dock workers were just ordinary people.

Ordinary people are all around us. They might act sycophantic, sucking up to their bosses.

They might act completely checked out, only doing their own job and not asking about anything else.

They're keen on grabbing small advantages, only able to see the immediate benefits in front of them while ignoring the long-term gains.

That's what ordinary people are like. You can't demand that everyone be smart or rational, so Lans felt it was perfectly normal for them to stand on the other side for such small benefits.

Since they're ordinary people, then you have to deal with them using methods for dealing with ordinary people!

These baseball-loving young men immediately changed the situation on the dock. Under the coordinated siege with the police, it wasn't long before the workers couldn't hold out any longer.

They began running toward the outside of the dock, while some ducked deeper into it. Soon the scene was completely under control—the workers were either pinned to the ground or lying there.

As a whistle sounded, the young men with red armbands receded like a tide, vanishing from the dock quickly and in an orderly fashion, leaving behind only the police with their shields and batons.

Now the approved reporters began snapping photos frantically. These were reporters that Senator Cleveland and the Bay Area had pulled in through connections—they would report what they had "seen" in a "fair and impartial" manner.

What remained in their camera negatives was only the imposing, magnificent police, and the rioters whose uprising had failed!

Watching everyone quickly disappear from the dock, Lans raised his hand and tapped on the partition of the cab.

The convoy slowly started up and eventually left the area.

The former dock workers lying on the ground moaning, and the new dock workers standing in the distance watching them with cold indifference, formed a stark and powerful contrast!

A "legitimate reporter" captured this moment—a single wire fence, separating two worlds.

On one side, cold, expressionless faces; on the other, features contorted by pain.

On one side, standing; on the other, lying down…

The big-bearded man who had started the trouble was gasping for breath. He was pinned to the ground by four or five police officers, who were putting handcuffs on him.

He was already bleeding from the head, his eyes were swollen, and there was a dark bruise on his cheek.

By now he couldn't speak, even though he felt he was having trouble breathing!

"It's over!" The mayor said, rubbing his temples after hearing his secretary's report. "Simple, direct, brutal, yet reasonable—that's the senator's solution."

He looked at his secretary and continued his analysis. "Lans, the police, the Bay Area, plus the news propaganda—he wants to use this method to tell these people that resistance and struggle are meaningless."

"Those ordinary people can't win a lawsuit against them. From the Attorney General to the Chief Justice, they're all their people—how could they possibly win?"

"Use other methods?"

"Lans's people already control most of the port district and the entire Imperial District. In other words, if they really want to do something, they first have to move out of these two districts!"

"Real estate in Jingang isn't cheap!"

"Those tycoons in the Bay Area represent the most stubborn and orthodox forces in the Federation. They can connect with every level of society—these people have no way to fight back."

"They'll soon sign, take the money, and accept their fate, just as they wish!"

He smiled as he spoke. "But there's a high probability we won't need to use this method—at least not now, because we can't unite so many forces."

"You can't make the gangs, the police, and those people in the Bay Area all dance to your tune, so you can't reach his level."

"But Owen, don't be discouraged—one day you'll be able to do it!"

A gleam appeared in his secretary's eyes. "I'll work toward that goal!"

The direction he spoke of was the senator.

The mayor was gratified by his statement. He turned to look at the bright sunshine outside the window. "I don't have much longer to be active in politics. I've been thinking about something lately—giving you one final push."

The secretary showed a somewhat sorrowful expression. He knew the mayor had already been abandoned by the higher-ups, and his future was bleak.

Up to now, Senator Cleveland hadn't contacted him at all, nor asked him to step forward for anything. From this, one could see how badly Congress—or rather, the Socialist Party—felt about him now!

They certainly did want to grab the massive profits of Jingang, but they didn't want him to destroy the place!

For those at the top, every tool only gets one chance.

As long as you fail this one time, or prove difficult to handle, there won't be a second chance. They'll just throw you into the trash can and toss you out.

Because they have countless tools waiting in line. They don't need to do what poor people do—fix up a tool when it's not working well, polish it, and keep using it.

"You can't do it, but someone else can!"

"Go find out, and put out a press release. Even though we've been sidelined, you still have to do what you're supposed to do."

"The one who's been sidelined is just me, not you!"

A little later, the secretary issued a notice on behalf of the mayor, the general meaning being that some former dock workers had come into conflict with the dock management company over a dispute.

After receiving the report, the Jingang City Police Department quickly arranged police forces, swiftly resolved the conflict, and arrested the person who had first provoked the dispute.

The City Hall would investigate them, and ultimately press charges against them for the crimes they had committed…

The docks fell completely silent!

The next day, as newspapers carrying the related news and accompanying photographs began to be printed and sold, more people learned through the papers about the small disturbance that had occurred the day before.

The official government had already characterized the incident as "a riot by unemployed people dissatisfied with society," and emphatically declared that the strike in Jingang City was over.

Vorn also appeared in the newspaper. He stood together with Dave and the executive director of the dock management company, the three of them clasping each other's hands in what looked like a very uncomfortable pose.

The reports stated that, under the arrangement and promotion of the Jingang City Dock Workers' Union, the workers' strike issue had been satisfactorily resolved.

The workers had already obtained what they wanted, and had all returned to their jobs.

The Labor Federation called it "a disgusting conspiracy," but it didn't have much effect, and the nationwide strike they had tried to promote could not be pushed forward any further.

As for the public, they believed what they saw with their own eyes, and they believed what those in authority said!

There were indeed plenty of workers working at the docks—if those arrested were dock workers, shouldn't there now be no one working at the docks?

Although there might still be some twists and turns in this matter, those twists and turns were no longer so obvious.

Even the Labor Federation side soon gave up on continuing to speak up for those people.

Right now the Federation's real economy wasn't doing so well, and many people cared a great deal about their own jobs. Not everyone could empathize with others' plight and pay the price with their own lives and work!

On another front, Congress had also put tremendous pressure on them, forcing them to handle the matter coldly.

Apart from those worker representatives who had been detained and were about to be sent to court and prison, and those ordinary people who had suddenly lost their jobs, for the people of Jingang City, the docks hadn't changed much from before!