Chapter 924: Each Side

The middle-aged man across from the lawyer sat in silence; the lawyer was not in a hurry.

He had met many people, all kinds of people, and he knew how to find their weaknesses from their outward behavior.

After about ten seconds, he asked, “How old are you?”

The refugee attacker answered after a few seconds, “Twenty-eight, sir.”

“Twenty-eight—what a good age!”

“Are you married?”

The refugee attacker shook his head. “No.”

“Do you plan to marry?”

The lawyer’s question made the refugee attacker fall silent.

He actually… already had a girlfriend. She was also in the Federation, and they were already living together.

They had never planned to have children. To him, marriage only became real after the wedding and the birth of a child—but he had no intention of doing so.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to; he simply couldn’t.

He couldn’t offer that girl a stable life. He couldn’t ask her to marry him in a makeshift tent by the roadside and give birth to a child there.

She might die.

Although he didn’t know how sanitation and childbirth survival rates were connected, he knew that in such a terrible environment, she might die.

The reason he joined this attack and plan was that Karl promised them money and a stable job.

When asked about this, his expression grew uneasy.

The lawyer noticed the change in his expression but didn’t press further—doing so might backfire.

“Actually, not planning to marry is a good choice, because you won’t have the chance to marry anytime soon.”

“I noticed fewer than forty of you were arrested. Do you know what that means?”

He looked at the refugee attacker, who shook his head; only then did he continue, “It means the thirty-some of you must bear responsibility for eleven deaths and hundreds of injuries.”

“Legal responsibility, moral responsibility—society and Federation citizens will spit on you, despise you—you will bear all the consequences!”

“This means you’re likely looking at a minimum of ten years.”

“And the nature of this case is particularly heinous—the victims are the largest, most influential group in Federation society.”

“The working class.”

“You may not be familiar with that term. I don’t know if your hometown has it, but in the Federation, here—”

“That term means power, and a certain degree of compromise.”

“The Federation government will punish you harshly to appease their anger.”

“You’ll be sentenced severely. Five years is the best-case scenario—if you can somehow convince the judge you’re not one of them.”

“Otherwise, I believe ten years is the most likely outcome.”

“You might even be denied parole reductions—you could end up serving eight, nine, or even the full ten years.”

“How old will you be in ten years?”

He watched the refugee attacker fall silent, then answered for him, “You’ll be thirty-eight then.”

“Thirty-eight, with a prison record, and you don’t seem to have any special survival skills—will any girl wait ten years to marry a man with no money?”

The refugee attacker remained silent; the lawyer kept talking, “Actually, whether she waits for you or chooses to marry you again doesn’t matter.”

“Because you’ll be deported, and during these ten years, she’ll very likely become a Federation citizen.”

“She may have already married a Federation man, built a family with him, and had children.”

Seeing the refugee attacker clench his fists, the lawyer smiled and continued, “You know, many girls will do anything to stay.”

“Some marry vagrants, some marry men old enough to be their grandfathers, some even marry brothers in the same family.”

“She might remember your relationship while being pinned down by some fat, pimpled, stinking man twice her age.”

“No one cares where you go. Your family may have already forgotten you—or lost contact due to some accident.”

“Your entire later life will be ruined, burdened by the negative consequences of losing these ten best years.”

“Your life began its downward spiral the moment you decided to serve time—the end of that road is hell, is the abyss.”

“And you did all this for a promise of a little money, a promise, or some other hollow promise that can’t truly make up for your losses!”

The lawyer’s relentless words made the refugee attacker’s body tense.

The lawyer pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and handed it to the refugee attacker. “Remember what I just told you?”

“We can do the same. We can!”

“We can give you double, triple the money. We can give you and your family stable jobs. We can give you and your girlfriend a stable life.”

“Your children will be Federation citizens—born closer to the finish line than anyone else.”

“The most crucial point!”

The lawyer tapped his finger on the table. “I’ll get the Labor Union and some families to sign letters of understanding and testify in court about your role in this—you likely won’t be sentenced at all.”

“Look!”

“On one side: a long prison term, a miserable life, and changes and shifts we can’t even imagine.”

“On the other: a happy life for you and your family—with no negative consequences, and people praising your noble courage for speaking the truth!”

The refugee attacker struggled internally. Karl had promised him a large sum of money, a good job for his family—a job that would let his whole family live well—and a respectable job for his girlfriend too.

All he had to pay was a “period” of time.

The lawyer added one more push: “You know you’re not the only attacker arrested. You can’t guarantee none of them will cooperate with us.”

“We only need one or two, two or three people—and I’ll only meet with you once.”

“Once you leave here, we won’t meet again. My offer will vanish with that meeting.”

“You have five minutes. Think carefully.”

“Before I finish this cigarette!”

He took another drag; the cigarette was now half gone, making the refugee attacker’s inner torment worse.

After about ten seconds, he licked his lips and whispered, “They told us we wouldn’t be sentenced that harshly.”

The lawyer hadn’t been as calm as he appeared—but at that moment, he truly relaxed. He exhaled, smiling: “When officers trick soldiers into climbing out of trenches and charging enemy lines, they often tell them the enemy has run out of bullets.”

“If you were told you’d spend your ten most important years inside, or longer—would you accept his deal?”

The refugee attacker shook his head. “No.”

The lawyer pressed harder: “You haven’t betrayed anyone. They deceived you first. You don’t need to guarantee anything. You haven’t wronged anyone. You haven’t betrayed anyone.”

“Now, tell me—who organized and ordered you to attack those workers in the protest?”

Minutes later, the lawyer rolled his notes into the shape of a cigarette and slipped them into the cigarette case.

“I’ll arrange your family and your girlfriend first. You’ll see them again soon.”

“Before the trial, we can meet once more—I’ll bring them with me, so you’ll see our sincerity.”

After speaking, the lawyer walked to the door, opened it, and told the guard outside, “This one’s done.”

The guard glanced at him, frowned slightly—this man’s session had taken longer than the others’.

He said nothing, merely noted it silently, then turned to the refugee attacker. “Did he do anything bad to you?”

The refugee attacker shook his head, saying nothing.

The guard said nothing more, lifted his handcuffs, and ordered him to stand. “Let’s go back.”

The lawyer still had to meet several more “suspects.” One witness wasn’t enough. From his own perspective, without solid evidence, even minor evidence couldn’t nail Lans’s people.

He needed more witnesses—to build multiple testimonies and corroboration—to make it useful in court.

He spent the entire day in the police station, including his colleagues.

When the day shift ended, they were ordered to leave the station.

The group returned to Nine O’Clock, where Mr. Walter had them sit down and brought them some alcohol.

As long as you had money, you could always buy alcohol—the hotel provided drink service.

Just like many hotels offered escort services—they did anything, as long as you could pay.

“You’ve worked hard,” Mr. Walter said, gesturing for them to sit and relax.

On the table, besides drinks, there were snacks.

“I’ve arranged a full meal—it’ll arrive soon. Eat some snacks first to fill your stomach. Drinks are unlimited.”

He looked at the lead lawyer, who had already unbuttoned his tie. Maintaining composure all day wasn’t easy or comfortable.

He lifted his glass, took a sip, and seemed to relax instantly. He picked up a slice of bread, wrapped some ham, bacon, and vegetables in it, and took a big bite.

After finishing the bread, he lit another cigarette, drew a deep breath, then exhaled as if releasing all his breath.

“We got five of them. They named a Slade gang leader named Karl—he claims to be Lans’s…” The lawyer’s expression turned slightly odd, as if he was holding back a laugh.

He paused two or three seconds before saying the word—

“Dog!”

Mr. Walter nodded. “This Karl is important.”

The lead lawyer nodded. “Yes. But we have a big problem now.”

“Even if they testify against Karl, we can’t take any real, effective action.”

“Because every level of Licale State is filled with Lans’s people—or even those not directly tied to Senator Cleveland won’t dare to offend them.”

“So getting close to the truth here is nearly impossible.”

Mr. Walter shook his head. “What if we could get Karl tried in another state?”

The lead lawyer was surprised, but quickly realized it didn’t concern him: “If we can ensure he’s sent to a neutral state, we can extract many valuable secrets from him.”

But how many “neutral” states were there really?

In the political climate of the Federation, so-called neutral states and swing states are, at bottom, regions that have never developed excessive dependence on the Federal government.

They possess the capacity to resist the Federal government!

Otherwise, they wouldn’t even be allowed to remain neutral—they’d have been forced to take a stance under Federal fiscal and policy pressure.

The political forces in these states are relatively independent; they don’t rely on Congress or the Presidential Palace, so transferring Karl to these states would achieve their desired outcomes.

These people are extremely formidable—they dare to directly defy Congress’s demands, dare to point their fingers at the President’s nose and curse him, and sometimes even threaten the Federal government.

So they will surely be delighted to see such an outcome—one that brings trouble to the Federal government!

Mr. Walter nodded. “Good. You handle the legal matters; the rest is up to me.”

This matter cannot be resolved immediately—it still requires a trial, during which these individuals will testify against the key suspect, Karl, in court, after which the prosecutor will arrest Karl and launch an investigation.

That is the moment when he must find a way to transfer Karl to another state—not now.

Acting now would be far too prone to error.

The hotel chef had prepared a lavish dinner; the server knocked on the door. Mr. Walter did not stop them, allowing them to wheel in carts of various sizes.

The lawyers were truly famished. They didn’t bother with formalities toward Mr. Walter, went straight to the dining room, sat down, and began eating and drinking with little decorum.

Mr. Walter stood before the floor-to-ceiling window, his face always wearing a smile.

He didn’t think the current situation was that dire—though it was indeed bad, it wasn’t without solutions.

This is precisely what makes human conflict so fascinating: setting traps and breaking them, seeing whose tactics are deadlier and more brilliant!

After the lawyers left, Director Broo called Lans and recorded every lawyer’s afternoon meetings—their identities and the approximate duration of each conversation.

“My jail cells aren’t sufficient to house everyone separately, so I’ve assigned officers to monitor them in the holding rooms—no talking, no fidgeting.”

“Those questioned the longest have been isolated—I believe they’re the most suspicious.”

Lans didn’t fully agree. “It’s also possible they’re acting deliberately. I’ll have Karl identify the traitor—you cooperate.”

Director Broo agreed.

Soon after, Lans brought Karl into his office and told him to sit down.

At this point, Karl was so difficult to identify as a Slader that it was nearly impossible to detect his refugee status.

His refined clothing, the strong confidence born of wealth and power—aside from his slightly darker skin, he differed little from a Federation citizen.

“Our opponents have already visited the police station to see the people you selected. They spent the entire day with them. I don’t believe you can guarantee all of them will stand firmly with us.”

Karl nodded. “What should I do, Mr. Lans?”

“Kill them?”

Lans shook his head. “If you kill them all, some will be driven by fear to join our enemies.”

“You need to find those who betrayed us—and use their lives as a warning to others: keep your mouth shut.”

Karl nodded. “I understand.”

Lans didn’t ask how he planned to do it—that too was a sign of capability.

Half an hour later, Karl appeared at the police precinct; Director Broo greeted him at the door.

That Karl worked for Lans and accomplished such a major task meant he had already caught Lans’s attention—he might one day become one of Lans’s key allies.

He had one special trait no other official possessed: he was a Slader.

Due to the war, vast numbers of Sladers and people from neighboring nations flooded into the Federation. As Slader was among the hardest-hit nations in the war’s early phase and had the largest refugee exodus, its population within the Federation exploded.

If Karl could gain some status and achievements, he would surely attract more Sladers to follow him—that was his advantage.

Sometimes Director Broo even envied these ethnic minorities: if they were bold enough, rational and calm, and had even a little brains, they could easily succeed in the Federation.

Too many people wanted to exploit them!

Whether betraying their own kind or uniting those around them to use them—both were excellent choices.

Soon Karl received a list and entered the first room, where he met the person questioned the longest.

Seeing Karl enter, the man seated in the chair visibly froze—his shock was unmistakable—but quickly he smiled. “What are you doing here?”

Karl kept watching him. He didn’t smile or show any expression—only sat across from him.

He stared at the man, speaking in a tone that wasn’t serious, but casually indifferent: “Why did you betray me?”

The man across from him blinked. “How could that be?”

“This must be their plot!”

“Karl, you have to believe me—I didn’t betray you!”

Karl remained as calm as ever, showing none of the man’s agitation: “But they say you’re planning to turn state’s witness against me…”

(End of Chapter)