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    In front of an open space in the Port District, a middle-aged man with the looks of a “protagonist” walked out from the refugee crowd.

    He had a look that quite fit the Federation’s aesthetic standards for a positive male figure: dark hair, a high-bridged nose that wasn’t aquiline, thick eyebrows, a chiseled jawline, and that killer chin.

    Combined with his slightly stubbled beard and blue pupils, even if he were to audition for a leading male role in Creek Valley City, some production crew would be willing to take him.

    He was wearing tattered but very clean clothes. As he walked out of the crowd, the reporters quickly noticed him.

    Councilman Williams wasn’t coming; he had canceled the afternoon’s event, which left the reporters who were prepared for a good show somewhat disappointed.

    But if they could get some other news material from an interview with this person, it might more or less make up for their disappointment.

    However, they didn’t think this guy could provide any sensational news. They were just a group of refugees.

    The guy walked up to the reporters. When there was still some distance, he suddenly raised his hands high and shouted, “We are dying, please save us!”

    The reporters, who had been somewhat absent-minded, were suddenly jolted. They immediately ran towards that person.

    Seeing these swarming reporters, a smile appeared on the middle-aged man’s face.

    “What is your name, sir?”

    “Hope, Hope Wright.”

    The reporters jotted down his name, and then immediately asked, “Can you tell us why you think you are dying?”

    His face was filled with an expression of begging for salvation. “People are dying. This is the truth.”

    “Hunger, disease, anything can easily take our lives.”

    “I know, we are refugees, we are not citizens of the Federation, but we are also human, and we should also have the right to live in this world!”

    “From the time we arrived in the Federation until now, the local government has not made any arrangements for us. Even the simple shelters built in the New Port District were our own spontaneous actions.”

    “We are like a proper noun that only exists in newspapers or magazines, not real people living in reality.”

    “People’s sympathy seems to be stuck in the newspapers as well, and has not shone into reality.”

    “Every day, in the New Port District, someone starves to death in his own tent, or in some corner, due to long-term hunger.”

    “Someone will quickly finish his short life in a painful struggle due to illness.”

    “Every night, the mournful cries make it difficult for me to fall asleep. I have never understood.”

    “Is it that God has closed his eyes and cannot see our sorrow, or has the sky of the Federation blocked his sight, letting his devout lambs suffer here!”

    “We need help, humanitarian aid, or anything else is fine. I’ve heard that the Federation even has some kind of animal protection association.”

    “The benevolent and kind people of the Federation can give those small animals some care and love, why can’t they give us, who are also human, some help?”

    “We have no other excessive demands. We just want to live…”

    This Mr. Hope’s speech triggered the empathy of many reporters at the scene. The greatest wealth of the lower class is their empathy.

    They can empathize with anything.

    Even if they themselves are very poor, when they see the terrible life of the poorer people, they will still can’t help but breed some thoughts of wanting to help them in the depths of their hearts.

    Just like their sigh after seeing a rich man lose millions in an investment—”This rich man is really not easy.”

    Just like their sadness when they see a politician lose an election by a narrow margin, just like…

    They can empathize with people who are worse off than themselves, and they can also empathize with the rich and powerful who are countless times better off than them but have encountered what people consider to be misfortune.

    Although they are very rich, although they are very powerful, they may not be as happy as I am!

    The people of the Federation, the poorer they are, the more easily they empathize.

    The reporters were not the privileged class or the rich. At the same time, they were more dependent on the resonance and empathy of their readers to gain fame and fortune for themselves.

    This Mr. Hope had hit their G-spot. They were thrilled.

    At Mr. Hope’s invitation, these reporters decided to go deep into the New Port District, which “desperately needs someone to help them,” to see for themselves.

    Just as Mr. Hope said, the federal government just let them come here, and then ignored them, as if they did not exist.

    What the people needed was not the truth, but something bloody, something that could pierce people’s hearts.

    Soon they arrived at the New Port District. The strange smell began to spread. Mr. Hope explained the reason for the strange smell here, which made “not being able to afford a shower” a small news sensation.

    Mr. Hope led them on a very special route. Not long after they had walked, they came to an open space and saw that they were burning something.

    The flames from the large pile of fire were as high as a three- or four-story building. There were also many people around constantly adding firewood to it.

    Before they even got close, waves of heat hit them in the face. Before the reporters had time to ask why they were having a bonfire in the summer, they saw a few people carrying some bodies and throwing them into the fire.

    “We can’t afford a cemetery, nor can we afford the cost of cremation. In order not to let those bodies become a source of plague, we can only solve it this way.”

    The reporters took pictures with serious expressions. Cremation was a new thing, but it had not been recognized by the people of the Federation.

    Because the Bible has always advocated for burial, and believes that burial is the best way to return to the Lord’s embrace.

    And the content about cremation is often related to “purification.”

    Ordinary people certainly do not need to be purified. Only those heretics need to be purified, so cremation is not popular. Many believers believe that they cannot go to heaven after being cremated.

    For the people of the Federation, who almost all have faith, for these people to be burned to ashes after death is one thing, but for their ashes to be mixed with the ashes of others, and not even be able to be put into a separate jar and buried in the ground, they will all surely go to hell!

    This was already the most severe punishment, to go to hell after death!

    Then they continued to walk inside and could see many people who were so thin that they were just skin and bones. They were either sitting or lying on the side of the road. A reporter asked, “Why are there so many people like this here?”

    Mr. Hope explained very calmly, “They are waiting for death, so that they can return to the world faster and more conveniently.”

    Some of the scenes in the refugee area had a huge impact on the reporters. They had never thought that people could live so miserably!

    When they finally saw a woman squeezing blood from her nipple to feed her child, everyone was silent.

    Those reporters began to take money out of their pockets, hoping that the woman could buy some milk powder instead of feeding her child with her own blood.

    “Mr. Hope, I don’t know how to describe what I have seen here today. I believe that everyone who knows what is happening here will face you with a heavy heart, just like me.”

    “You should get help. This is the bottom line of human morality. We cannot break this bottom line.”

    “I will report this news truthfully, to ensure that it is seen by more people, and I will also call on everyone to donate money and goods to help you get through this difficult time…”

    “You are a person of noble morality. You will change the people here and their lives. You will be like the sun, warming everyone!”

    The reporter was really too cultured. The words he spoke were so beautiful, so beautiful that Mr. Hope was almost moved to tears!

    He shook hands with every reporter and said, “I’m not doing this to promote myself or for any personal gain. I just can’t remain silent in such an environment.”

    “No matter what changes happen in the future, good or bad, at least I have tried for the tomorrow and future of each of us!”

    “Thank you, thank you to each and every one of you for having the patience to come with me, to see with me, and to understand the harsh living environment of the people here.”

    “God bless the Federation, and God will bless us too!”

    He piously clasped his hands together. Someone captured this photo. The brilliant sunlight illuminated half of his face. The beautiful side of the city was all on his left.

    And the other half was shrouded in a subtle shadow, merging with the human misery behind him, forming a camera shot with an extremely strong contrast and a powerful impact.

    Soon the reporters left here. The people around who were so hungry that they could barely stand up looked at Mr. Hope. He turned around, and the sunlight came from his left side to his right.

    He smiled, looking at these miserable people, and meeting their eager gazes, he slightly tucked in his chin. “Everything will be alright!”

    For some reason, the people felt a surge of strength from the soles of their feet. They didn’t know that they had become a bargaining chip in a political game.

    But even if they knew, they wouldn’t care.

    At least a bargaining chip can be placed on a velvet gambling table to play a game. People will keep them alive to protect the bargaining chip.

    If they don’t become a bargaining chip, they can only sit on the cement ground, the sandy ground, waiting for the period to draw its last stroke.

    They raised their hands high, chanting Mr. Hope’s goodness. All of this made Mr. Hope feel a trace of joy.

    This was the foundation for realizing his future, it was a bargaining chip. He would become a remarkable person. He firmly believed this!

    With the participation of the reporters and those tragic photos, the front-page headline of the Golden Port Today was occupied by this news the next morning.

    The reporter who wrote this report used the headline, “Our Morality is Dying Along with Our Conscience,” and used a wide-angle photo, putting the fire used to burn the corpses and the people sitting by the fire waiting to die together.

    The dark-toned picture was like a dark cloud pressing on everyone’s heart. With lightning and thunder, the heavy rain came down in a torrent.

    “…People are dying, dying in the beautiful world we have woven. Their deaths have no meaning, will not become nutrients to nourish this land, but will only become an indelible pain in our hearts.”

    “Compared to them who need help, it is actually we who need help more, our conscience, our virtues, our moral bottom line as human beings is wailing, is crying out to us for help.”

    “We are not only saving them, but also ourselves.”

    “Please lend a helping hand, for them, for us.”

    Lance read out the content of this report. After he finished reading, he placed it on the side, then picked up the coffee with milk and took a sip.

    “Next time, if you add milk, you don’t have to add sugar. It’s too sweet!” he commented, and then looked at the ladies and gentlemen at the dinner table.

    Whenever he wanted to enlighten these people, he would find that their eyes were particularly clear, so clear that you could see the bottom at a glance.

    “I… uh, alright, there’s no morning exam today.”

    The people at the dinner table all breathed a sigh of relief. At first, they might have found this a little interesting, but soon they didn’t think so anymore.

    If someone always asks you what you don’t know, you won’t find it very interesting.

    He asked about other things, things that these people knew, and the atmosphere immediately became much more cheerful.

    “Our liquor is selling well in the Bay Area. The price is now 370 a bottle, and there is still more room for it to rise.”

    Derisi was talking about the sales of these “five-year-aged” whiskeys, and the smile on his face couldn’t be contained.

    The cost of these liquors was a little more expensive, but only a little, about thirty to forty. But it could bring in a profit of more than eight times!

    These liquors actually still had some small flaws. Their alcoholic smell was too strong, but Lance was thinking of ways to solve these problems.

    If these problems could be solved, then eight-year-aged and ten-year-aged whiskeys would appear.

    “Besides this, more liquor has appeared in other districts,” he added.

    The only major gang in Golden Port City was the Lance Family, but there were still many mid- and low-level gangs. Every district had them, except for the Empire District and the Port District.

    It was impossible for him to kill all the gangs, because he couldn’t do it.

    Even if he drove out all the current ones, a new batch of gangs would soon rise up.

    The society of the Federation was like a super cradle, specializing in breeding these violent groups. As long as a vacuum appeared, a new group would soon be born, and there would never be an end to it.

    So instead of considering how to find those mid- and low-level gangs every day, it was better to set the rules and let them abide by them. As long as they abided by the rules and made money for him, then he could also tolerate these small gangs.

    Lance thought for a moment after listening. “How many gangs are there here?”

    Elvin gave a number that was unexpected, but within reason. “At least a hundred.”

    Some small families might only have a dozen or so people. Their “territory” might be a section of a street, or a group of seven or eight people running an underground bar.

    This situation was very normal. The number Elvin gave was actually very conservative.

    Lance’s fingers tapped on the table. “Notify these people. I want to talk to them, maybe recently.”

    “Also, have Roger come over…”

    Before ten o’clock, Roger appeared in front of Lance. The old man was getting more and more energetic as he lived.

    There was no other way. The best “panacea” was actually the banknotes in people’s pockets.

    The poor are listless, and the rich are full of energy. There is a reason for this.

    If everything you encounter every day can go your way, it’s hard for you to live uncomfortably.

    But if you have to haggle, get angry, and even have a big fight with your family and friends over one or two dollars every day, then it’s impossible for a person to live comfortably.

    Scientists have also been looking for the specific interference of the mind on the body. They have many theories, but they have never been able to find the key.

    Roger was like this. With money, even his old brother had regained his vitality.

    “I hear you’ve been getting close with a young widow recently?” Lance motioned for him to sit down, took a cigarette, and tapped the butt on the table.

    Roger’s old face flushed a little. “We’re just good friends.”

    Lance did not deny this statement. “So you had a big fight with your son, for this good friend of yours.”

    Hearing Lance say so, Roger suddenly sighed. “I also have the right to pursue happiness.”

    Like most people of that era, his union with his wife was more like two people who needed to bear social responsibility, who had reached the age of needing to bear social responsibility, and then naturally came together and formed a family.

    For those people in the past, to talk about love or affection, it wasn’t that there was absolutely none, but this group of people was still a very small minority.

    Most people were also introduced by others, and then when they got along, they didn’t dislike each other, so they formed a family.

    This is also why most operas talk about love. If the audience had really had their own love, that deep, or rich and colorful kind, why would they pay attention to other people’s love stories and produce some kind of empathy?

    Because they themselves didn’t have it!

    So they would long for those love stories. Of course, there were also some sadomasochistic lovers. They liked the set of a poor boy falling in love with a rich girl, and then breaking them up!

    Roger and his wife had also come together like this. The time had come, and then they had met twice, didn’t dislike each other, and then, under the arrangement of both families, they got married.

    No matter when, Roger had never had a single bit of love for his wife, only family affection. She was a family member, not a lover.

    And recently, this young widow had made him have that kind of impulse, so much so that his old brother, who hadn’t been used for a long time, also became vigorous.

    As for why his son would argue with him, the reason was actually very simple.

    His son was worried that Roger would really marry that young widow, and then a part of the property that originally belonged to him would be taken away by the young widow.

    He was even afraid that his old father could still have children. What if he had another little thing? Then half of it, or even more, would be gone!

    He couldn’t accept this.

    If their family was still poor and not well-off, he wouldn’t care.

    But now that they were rich, on the contrary, some things were not so easy to let go of.

    (End of a Chapter)

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