Blackstone Code

To the working class, the workers' union was their greatest support.

In fact, this was kind of true. With the help of workers' unions, capitalists and politicians had been compelled to draft many policies and bills regarding workers' welfare and benefits, protecting their rights and ensuring their livelihoods.

On paper, the image of the workers' union was that of a hero-like worker smiling toward the sun.

But in reality, the workers' union, to some extent, was both the protector of the workers and the partner of the capitalists. The widely known cases where they stood by the workers and won were actually against small, local companies with little fame.

Try going against a large conglomerate?

The lengthy litigation process and costs alone would make the workers' union voluntarily compromise and choose to give up. So, in such times, they would switch roles, accepting benefits from the conglomerates in the name of helping workers to keep silent.

They would "fight" for various benefits for the workers, but in reality, they sometimes saved money for the capitalists. They had many ways to do this and made the workers firmly believe that they were right, just, and moral.

Among the workers Arthur visited, about 30% had died from various complications in the subsequent series of events.

Less than 10% were still in worse health than ordinary people, and most others suffered from diseases, but they had no means to deal with it.

When they spent that money and found it was far from enough to restore their health, it was already too late.

Rather than saying these people were still alive, it would be more accurate to say they were already dead.

No hope, no future, living each day in agony. There was no difference from being dead, only their instinctual attachment to life kept them going.

No one would pay attention to them, and society wouldn't report them. These things were ruthlessly suppressed, forming the foundation of this glorious society, if even that.

Have they lost their value?

Actually, no. When the workers' union, local government, or certain people needed them, they would reappear in a "shocking society, shocking world" manner.

They would show their suffering to gain others' tears, sympathy, and strength.

But all of this had little to do with them. In the end, they wouldn't get much out of it, maybe some symbolic donations and treatments they couldn't afford, then they would return to their lives, waiting to be needed or remembered someday.

Hundreds or thousands of such or similar events form our society. Beneath the prosperity lies not prosperity, but this is life, this is the real world.

"They are so miserable, Mr. Lynch, I..." Arthur's expression was vividly animated for the first time. Perhaps his immigrant status made him feel an inexplicable sense of empathy. "I know I shouldn't say this, but can we help them?"

Lynch held his coffee. He liked the smell more than the taste. After a sip, he put the cup down, looking at Arthur with a faint smile until the latter lowered his head and apologized to Lynch for his impulsive words.

"Mr. Lynch, I'm sorry, I shouldn't influence your judgment."

Lynch pursed his lips without much expression. He didn't accept or reject the apology, instead asking an unrelated question, "Arthur, do you know why the ultimate goal of businessmen is to become capitalists?"

Arthur thought seriously for a while but eventually shook his head.

Lynch smiled slightly, "It's actually very simple. Businessmen are still human, with human emotions. They are bound by their emotions.

"Only when they ascend to capitalists, completely shedding human instincts and impulses, will they not be constrained by human emotions."

Lynch paused, "You don't need to apologize for your thoughts. I'm not a capitalist yet, nor do I plan to become one."

"I keep saying, to you, to my partners, making money is important, but it's more important to take on some social responsibility."

He looked directly at Arthur, his tone steady, his expression unchanged. But in Arthur's excited heart, it was like seeing a new, radiant sun.

Lynch raised his hand slightly, "Make arrangements, I want to meet these people, see them with my own eyes. By the way, invite some reporters as well. We need to make a big news story."

Arthur, despite achieving his goal, wasn't as happy as he imagined, instead feeling puzzled, "Mr. Lynch, may I be fortunate enough to know why you are doing this?"

Lynch thought for a moment, then smiled, "This is responsibility, Arthur. The greater your ability, the greater your responsibility. I am a human, not a capitalist, and I will not do the same things they do."

Perhaps Lynch's words moved Arthur. He soon completed Lynch's instructions, exceeding expectations.

It once again proved that when people acted for their own desires or goals, they would often put in more effort and energy than when working for others.

To prepare for this meeting or event, he specifically talked to the director of the welfare home. The director agreed without hesitation, not minding the exposure issue.

A welfare home, such a basic charity institution, without exposure, would have no donations. So the director was very cooperative.

On the morning of December 30, Lynch and a group of reporters arrived at this welfare home.

The reporters didn't know what to expect, but they came because Lynch called them.

Lynch was a very charismatic young man, and his money was charming too. Each time they attended Lynch's press conferences or events, they left with some extra benefits.

Though things like pens, notebooks, and ink might seem trivial, these small items could win people over, not to mention the Interstellar Trading Company's product vouchers for free second-hand items that looked new.

But today, from the moment they got off the car, there were no smiles. What they saw was disturbing. A young female reporter even covered her mouth and nose, running out of the welfare home, returning pale after a while.

Before them were over twenty deformed elderly people, some with swollen bodies like balls, their facial features severely damaged, squeezed together like burn victims.

Some had cracked skin, exposing rotten flesh or pus, emitting a foul odor.

Others had swollen and large parts of their bodies, while other parts were just skin and bones.

Some…

It was like hell, the faint smell of rot and stench in the air made everyone's heart race with fear.

"Gentlemen, this is what I hope you will record and report..." Lynch looked at each reporter, "I don't need you to praise me or hide anything. Just use the most truthful language to describe what you see and hear, letting more people know about these people and these things."

Then, Lynch kindly shook hands with each elder, even though some had lost their hands, their arms half-rotten, exposing white bones and black necrotic flesh.

They smelled foul, but Lynch seemed unaffected, sitting with them, asking questions.

Behind each deformed elder was not just one person's tragedy but a group's tragedy. Most came from different production accidents.

Toxic material leaks, radiation exposure, machine malfunctions… every accident injured more than one person.

Unspeakable misery?

Appalling?

Not enough.

As the visit to these elders was ending, Lynch talked to the reporters about things unknown to them and society.

"There are actually more people enduring such suffering, but at least they are alive, with a chance to see the light from all walks of life. But some have died, leaving the world in their darkest moments..."

In Lynch's description, Listoan Group became the devil's spokesperson. At least ten severely injured workers were dragged to death in hospital beds because the company refused to pay medical expenses.

The reason behind this was the treatment costs far exceeded the federal death compensation standard.

They wouldn't let those workers get treated, even suing to ruin their families, all to hasten their death and pay a possibly insignificant compensation for the company.

To save expenses, even demons weren't as professional as them, and such things happened in what was considered the most glorious era of the Baylor Federation.

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