Chapter 916: The value of a corpse and the drawing of a pie

It had been some time since Mr. Richard's wife had shared dinner with him.

Men are always like this.

When they grasp power and possess wealth, they lose their families; this is inevitable.

When you are focused on one thing, it is difficult to attend to others; career and family both require a great deal of time, making them hard to balance.

For a man like Mr. Richard, who manages a massive company in trouble, he needs to handle many things every day, as well as social engagements, maintaining relationships, and everything else.

That he could return tonight to share dinner with her, rather than attending a "New Year's Eve party" hosted by some big shot and returning the next day smelling of women's perfume—

To Mr. Richard's wife, this was already deeply, deeply moving!

She had prepared a lot of delicious food, and besides him, their daughter was also home today.

"It has been a long time since our family spent a key holiday together."

She leaned close to the table, holding a knife in one hand and a fork in the other, her face full of smiles; in this moment, she seemed to be the happiest person alive!

Perhaps because the exhaustion on his body was melted away by his wife's heartwarming smile, a smile also appeared on Mr. Richard's face, and he made a promise he didn't truly mean.

"From now on, we will spend all important days together!"

Perhaps he himself knew that this promise would not come true, which was why he spoke it without the slightest hesitation.

He couldn't do it, but a short-term "white lie" was something he could manage.

Let's just get through a wonderful night!

"Really?" His wife was so happy she was about to cry; she left her seat, walked to Mr. Richard's side, and hugged his shoulders. "I'm so moved!"

Mr. Richard felt even more guilty, and even a bit awkward. He looked at his girl, made a helpless expression, and then he too put down his knife and fork to hug his wife, murmuring, "Everything will be alright."

The two held the embrace for about ten seconds before his wife let go and returned to her seat, and the family began to enjoy their New Year's Eve dinner in harmony.

Just as it was approaching eight o'clock, they had almost finished eating, and the atmosphere of the entire dinner was excellent.

Mr. Richard displayed all the humor and wit he used in the business world, making his wife and daughter unable to stop laughing.

For a husband and a father, this was undoubtedly the best reward!

Perhaps seeing that his father was in a good mood, Mr. Richard's daughter gathered her courage and said, "I'm seeing a boyfriend."

Mr. Richard froze for a moment. He glanced at his wife, who seemed to have known about this for a long time, and then his gaze moved back to his daughter. "Don't tell me I'm the last person to know about this!"

His daughter was a bit nervous, but she still nodded. "You're always so busy, and it's hard for us to meet or sit down and talk."

"I wanted to tell you a few times, but you told me to tell Mom."

Mr. Richard vaguely remembered this. He tapped his forehead. "My God, what have I missed?!"

He looked at his daughter. "Alright, tell me about that boy first; I have to confirm he's worthy of you."

This sentence made his daughter breathe a sigh of relief, and she began to speak well of her boyfriend.

Just at this moment, the doorbell suddenly rang. Mr. Richard glanced at his watch; it was eight o'clock.

The smile on his face grew even wider. Seeing his wife about to get up, he took the initiative to stand. "I'll go. Maybe it's someone delivering documents for me; you know, I've been very busy lately!"

He gave the mother and daughter a reassuring look and then hurried to the door.

He ordered a large bouquet of flowers, ninety-nine of them, and then there was a necklace, placed right on top of the flowers.

He wanted to give his wife a romantic New Year's Eve, full of sweetness, one where she could recall what happened on this day every New Year in the future.

The doorbell rang ding-dong a few more times. He strode over while saying, "Coming, coming, don't be so impatient, brother!"

He pulled the door open without any hesitation and saw a guy standing outside wearing a thin cotton jacket.

He was wearing a baseball cap. The light from the doorway shone down, and the protruding brim blocked the light, leaving Mr. Richard with only a dark, shadowy, and indistinct facial outline.

His gaze fell on the other person's hands. The man's hands hung naturally at his sides, wearing kidskin gloves—

As for why he knew they were kidskin gloves, it was because he had a similar pair himself.

Kidskin is very thin, with either a layer of velvet inside or nothing at all, which allows it to fit the user's hand to the greatest extent. Especially with some highly skilled leatherworkers, they could make it so one wouldn't even feel like they were wearing gloves.

Mr. Richard discovered a handgun in the man's right hand.

He froze for a moment, and then a chill exploded inside his body in an instant!

He found it difficult even to open his mouth to speak!

The next second, the man at the door raised the handgun. At this moment, the desire to survive overcame the brain's control over the body; Mr. Richard lowered his body and turned to run.

But his speed was far inferior to the speed of a bullet.

The sound of the bullet was very soft because it was a small-caliber pistol equipped with a silencer; there was almost no sound from a few meters away.

Of course, this also meant the effective lethal range of this gun was very limited, only fifteen meters.

Fifteen meters would certainly not be enough for field combat, but inside a room, fifteen meters was absolutely sufficient.

Three bullets hit Mr. Richard; two hit his head, and one hit his back.

With a thud, he fell to the ground, but he did not die immediately.

Although his brain had suffered heavy trauma, his remaining thinking ability and consciousness still existed. There was no change in expression on his face; he tried to open his mouth, wanting to shout, but couldn't.

The mother and daughter in the room heard the sound of a heavy object falling in the hallway. Mr. Richard's wife asked subconsciously, "Honey, what's wrong?"

"Do you need me to help you with something?"

She said this while standing up and walking toward the door.

Hearing the voice, Mr. Richard, who was already on the verge of death, felt his eye sockets fill with tears in a very short time.

In his life, ever since he grew up, he had never cried again.

Sometimes he would think that perhaps if his parents, his wife, or his children died in an accident, he wouldn't cry either.

He felt he was a person of naturally cold temperament; he was good at acting, and sometimes he would act as a very emotional and warm person.

But deep down, he knew he was indifferent.

He had always thought so, until this moment.

Perhaps he really was crying, or perhaps his brain had been damaged, causing his tear glands to contract uncontrollably.

In any case, his eye sockets were filled with tears.

He opened his mouth, the muscles on his face completely distorted, and his consciousness became unstable and hazy. He watched that shadow get closer and closer, watching a pair of slippers appear in his line of sight.

It's over!

There was no screaming, only a thud as his wife fell before him, and then he saw a pair of black leather shoes enter the room from before him, followed by a few more gunshots.

About twenty seconds later, the gunman walked out of the dining room. He noticed Mr. Richard's eyes, which were still trembling.

He walked over, stepped on Mr. Richard's neck with his foot, and then emptied all the bullets into his head...

The blood on the floor slowly spread into the room, and eventually, Mr. Richard's blood mixed with his wife's.

The next morning, people at the company couldn't see Mr. Richard come to work. Because things had indeed been too busy lately, they could only call Mr. Richard.

Unfortunately, no one answered the phone. Later, the company's board of directors felt something was wrong and took the initiative to call the police.

Soon, the police arrived at the place where Mr. Richard lived and discovered the corpses of him and his family in the room.

The case soon shocked the upper-class circles of the entire city. After all, Mr. Richard was considered one of the members of the upper class, and his death made some people sensitive and vigilant.

In the subsequent investigation, the police obtained a piece of news of unknown authenticity.

The company claimed that before Mr. Richard was murdered, he had transferred a sum of funds, and now that sum of funds could not be found. As for whether Mr. Richard had actually transferred this sum of funds, it was not important to the board members; they were just making use of waste.

Who killed Mr. Richard?

The board of directors and the major shareholders had some guesses in their hearts; it was nothing more than those few people who were most likely.

The insurance company, Lanse White, and the workers who were injured in the factory fire and did not receive compensation.

Only these people had the greatest grudges against Mr. Richard and were most likely to come to his door to kill him.

And the small-caliber pistol used by the killer screened out the ordinary workers; they found it hard to get a small-caliber pistol, which required either a lot of money or some opportunities and connections.

Of course, the board of directors did not completely rule them out; what if there were people with military backgrounds among these workers who did not receive compensation?

However, they mainly focused on the two forces: the insurance company and the Lanse family.

As for whether they wanted to avenge Mr. Richard, they actually had no such thoughts at all.

They were capitalists, and the purpose of everything capitalists do revolves around profit; if there is no profit in what they do, then they won't do it!

They participated in the investigation just to know who was behind it.

Mr. Richard's death also caused some of the actions of Jinbiao Wine Industry to stop completely, including the lawsuit against the insurance company.

Although this part of the newly appointed president would continue to pursue it, they had relaxed a bit for now; perhaps they would have some new ideas.

After all, it was already the New Year, and the New Year should have a new atmosphere.

Federal people spent the first day of the year in a happy atmosphere, but in Lapa, people were constantly falling down because of hunger.

It wasn't that they were really starved to death, but that they had eaten some things they shouldn't have, or died from attacks by predators in the jungle.

Because people were too hungry, they could only go into the jungle to find some food, which disturbed the predators in the jungle, as well as poisonous animals and plants.

Someone ate a mushroom and soon closed their eyes and returned to the embrace of God.

Someone touched a beautiful frog and ended up falling in the jungle due to cardiac arrest.

Someone accidentally stepped on a snake, and the snake gave him a bit of venom that was worth the same as gold.

People died every day in the process of looking for food, and people's dissatisfaction with the Lapa government had reached its limit!

Under such circumstances, Diego gave a public radio speech, and the entire Lapa territory and surrounding areas could receive the whole process of his speech.

In order to let more people know what he was going to say and when he was going to say it, they notified them three days in advance.

At two o'clock in the afternoon on January 1st, Diego appeared outside the Presidential Palace, and the high-power radio station also began to work.

"Citizens of Lapa, I am your president, Diego..."

He said a series of names afterward, as well as two pronunciations that Lanse was not sure about.

According to the locals, these were names in the local language family, and there was no accurate translation in the common language.

Diego announcing his full name and local pronunciation on such an occasion was actually declaring his legitimacy and authority.

This was like an ancient emperor who, if he was not in his castle but outside, would emphasize his surname when he needed to negotiate—Royal Family!

Diego did exactly that; he emphasized these things to get the people not to oppose him, at least not strongly.

After all, he and his family had ruled Lapa for a long time and still had a certain ruling foundation.

Among the ruled, there were always some who were addicted to kneeling; they liked being ruled, exploited, and oppressed. If there were not a few big mountains on them, it was as if they wouldn't know how to live.

There would always be people who took the initiative to find excuses for his brutal rule, so sometimes ruling is an art, requiring the ruler to have political skills and a clever brain that transcend ordinary people.

But it's not always like that!

There are always people who don't need to use any brains to rule a group of people who also don't have any brains.

"I feel deeply pained about some things that have happened in Zhuolan recently. What good people we have?!"

"It is just because they were bewitched and deceived by some people that they ended up standing on the opposite side of us, of the people, and paid a heavy price."

"I believe that most people are kind, and I also believe that we can solve the current predicament."

"We have recently completed the first round of consultations with the president's cabinet of the Republic of Jiede regarding the food issue."

"We will receive no less than 350,000 tons of food aid, which is enough to help us hold out until the end of winter..."

Actually, it was 500,000 tons, but he didn't say it too fully. It wasn't that he and his ministers wanted to embezzle 150,000 tons, but that this part would not be announced to the public for the time being.

If there really was an environment or place that needed this part of the food, then they would take it out, which was equivalent to a final preparation.

As for how 350,000 tons of food could be enough for so many people to hold out until spring?

That was not Diego and the cabinet's problem; it was the people's own problem.

According to one pound of food per person per day, it certainly wouldn't last until spring.

But what if a person only needed one pound of food a week?

Wheat can be mixed with more water; it doesn't have to be something that chokes you to be food; thin gruel is also food.

Plus some other things, such as coarse plant fibers that are not so easy to digest, can also help you hold on.

He also talked about the idea of providing more job opportunities. He told the people that the Lapa government was negotiating with the Federal government on the development of local resources.

Once the negotiations were settled, there would be at least hundreds of thousands of new job positions, and they would be high-paying job positions.

Besides this, there were also opportunities to work in the Federation.

Because a large number of young people were conscripted into the army and went to the front line or were waiting for the front line's call at military bases, there was a large-scale shortage of the young labor force.

Some work was fine for old men to do, but some work, especially heavy physical labor, was best done by young people.

They needed this type of worker, and Lanse could ensure that at least 50,000 to 100,000 people would be recruited to work in the Federation.

Behind 200,000 job positions, there might be 400,000 to 500,000 families, which could radiate and cover a population of at least three to four million, causing their lives to undergo huge changes.

Diego's cabinet had also discussed this issue; at least one-third of the Lapa people would go from "destitute population" to "poor population," and a small part would become richer than the poor.

In this way, it was equivalent to the Lapa regime "coercing" these vested interest groups, and they would become firm supporters of the Lapa government.

They were richer and more capable of action than others, so they would become the best protectors of power.

Lanse listened to Diego constantly describing a beautiful future on the radio. He was sure that Diego must have been reading from a prepared speech, and this speech was not written by himself.

He didn't have this level; if he had this level, Lapa wouldn't be in such a terrible state today.

Lanse's attention slowly withdrew from the radio, and he glanced at Gomez, who was standing in the corner. "Can you confirm the route and time of this train?"

Gomez bent his waist and lowered his head. "Of course I can, Mr. Lanse!"

"Although Diego is a bit suspicious of me, he can't find anyone else suitable right now, so he arranged for me to receive the first batch of food."

A smile appeared on Lanse's face. "Do it well, Gomez."

"I know you want to touch the power of this country, but it won't belong to you, and it's impossible for it to belong to you, so you don't need to think about it."

"If you cooperate well with the work I give you, I will give you the opportunity to go to the Federation when the time comes, as a Federal citizen."

"Being a rich man in the Federation is better than being a president who is like a punching bag in Lapa, isn't it?"

There was not the slightest unhappiness on Gomez's face. "That's what I think too, Mr. Lanse."

"Then the food on this train?"

Lanse gave him a map. "Draw that railway line, and then write down the time."

"You'd better think clearly before you put pen to paper, because you only have one chance!"

"Don't waste it!" ===== CHAPTER 917 =====