Free Web NovelFive men in shackles sat on chairs. Their hands were bound not by handcuffs, but by heavy iron manacles.
Two thick metal rings, nearly a centimeter thick, locked their wrists. A thick iron chain connected the manacles to their ankle shackles, dragging a 20-pound iron ball behind them.
These restraints were specifically designed for death row inmates. Sometimes, people took certain things far too seriously.
For example, legal professionals believed that suicide was a way to escape punishment. In both Gephra and the Federation’s history, there had been several such incidents.
Faced with unbearable punishment—such as the death penalty—some criminals had chosen to take their own lives.
In response, prison staff would snatch them back from death, carefully nurse them back to health, and once they recovered, hand them a bullet. This grim and puzzling procedure was labeled judicial justice.
Though lawyers and the justice department’s explanations were somewhat strained, public focus remained fixed on whether it was right to take a life—not on the prisoners themselves.
To avoid public backlash, countries began heavily restricting the behavior of death row inmates.
Take the men in front of Lynch, for example. They couldn’t even lift their hands—suicide was virtually impossible.
When Lynch entered the room, the five former partners became visibly agitated.
After a few loud smacks of a baton against the wall, they quieted down.
Clearly, they’d been through a lot.
“What do you want from me?” Lynch asked as he sat down, crossing his legs and staring at the five across the table.
He felt no sympathy for them—just like with Richard. He didn’t hate them, nor did he like them. But pity was out of the question.
The moment they conspired with Richard to secretly move his assets, they forfeited the right to sympathy.
The room smelled unpleasant. Lynch took out a pack of cigarettes. The five men’s eyes locked onto it.
Lynch lit one for himself, then pushed the pack and a box of matches across the table.
A guard helped them light their cigarettes—not out of respect, but to ensure they weren’t hiding anything dangerous.
The man in the center stood out most to Lynch. He was the first to join Richard’s team. Though older, he was quick to learn and had a strong, almost obsessive desire for money. He became one of Richard’s closest allies and served as Vice President of Harmony Capital.
He took a couple of puffs, then coughed violently. None of them had smoked in a long time, and the sudden inhalation triggered a reaction.
After the coughing subsided, he hunched forward, lifting his leg to barely bring his hands to the cigarette.
Holding it awkwardly, he looked up at Lynch. “Mr. Lynch, we applied for extradition… to return to our home country. But no one has responded…”
“Can you help us? Just talk to the embassy. Please.”
His eyes were filled with despair. After receiving no replies to their requests, they realized things were far worse than they’d thought. Their only hope might be Lynch.
The fact that Lynch was even willing to meet them gave them hope—this was their last chance.
Lynch glanced at the guard. They exchanged a brief look, and the guard tipped his hat slightly in a respectful gesture before leaving the room.
This stunned the five men—Lynch had enough clout to dismiss a prison guard?
They didn’t know how much influence Lynch had gained recently. Some even called him the core figure of the new aristocracy.
With that kind of status, making a guard step aside was nothing.
This flicker of hope took root in their hearts. Maybe… they could survive!
But Lynch quickly extinguished it.
“I can speak to the ambassador,” he said, flicking ash off his cigarette. A few specks landed on his spotless leather shoes and slid off.
Looking at them, he continued, “With the election coming up back home, and given the importance of international stability… If Richard were still alive, he might’ve been extradited, and that could’ve given you a chance as well.”
“But he’s dead. The one who made the most noise is gone. Without him, public attention back home never even reached you, so…”
He let out a quiet sigh. “Even if I pass your request along, no one back home is going to care.”
“You didn’t make enough of a mess.”
That’s just how things worked sometimes. The bigger the scandal, the less likely it ended in death—at least not immediately.
It was like taking out a loan from the bank. A businessman with ten million in assets borrows two million—if he doesn’t repay it, the bank will bankrupt him.
But if that same man somehow borrows a hundred million? The bank won’t even dare to pressure him.
They’ll send people to protect him, buy him expensive insurance, and pray he doesn’t die.
As long as he’s alive, the debt is his. No bank manager is foolish enough to assume the liability themselves.
The same logic applied here.
When the Federation’s media reported on crimes committed abroad by its citizens, they downplayed their identity. Only Richard, who had committed suicide, was mentioned in detail. The rest were barely acknowledged.
With no public outcry, the government didn’t intervene. And with no intervention, there was no extradition.
After Lynch finished explaining, the older man broke down. He sobbed uncontrollably, snot and tears streaming down his face—disgusting to look at.
The others were also emotionally devastated, on the verge of collapse.
None of them had expected things to reach this point. At worst, they thought they’d serve a prison sentence if the company’s schemes were exposed. Death had never crossed their minds.
This was the harsh consequence of misunderstanding reality. This was Gephra—a monarchy. The law claimed to be fair, but in truth, the rulers decided what that meant.
Now that someone had to die to appease the defrauded public, it would be them. No one could save them.
The older man suddenly thought of his home in the Federation—his parents, his wife, his child. He completely broke down.
In desperation, he wiped his face with his sleeve, smearing mucus and tears across his cheeks. But he didn’t even care.
“Mr. Lynch, I have money. I just remembered—I still have some, two million Gael. Can it save me?” His eyes were full of desperation.
It was money he had secretly moved. While Richard was transferring assets, so was he. Most of them were.
They were core members of the company. Whether Harmony Capital and Harmony Gold Bonds were scams, they knew better than anyone. So the moment they had money, they started moving it.
If Richard hadn’t tried to push Harmony Capital to go public for even more profit, they might have already left Gephra, resurfacing in some other country, waiting for the next opportunity.
Unfortunately, Richard’s greed brought him glory—and became the executioner that sealed all their fates.
The others started chiming in, each claiming how much money they had. But Lynch remained unmoved.
Everyone has their principles. Lynch had his bottom line. He wouldn’t take their money, because he knew—these people couldn’t be saved.
After a moment’s thought, he pulled out a notebook and a pen. “I won’t take your money. You can give me the account numbers and passwords, and I’ll pass them on to your families.”
“Of course, you don’t have to trust me. It’s no loss to me either way. I know how hard this is to accept, but it’s the only thing I can do.”
Maybe they had cried enough, or maybe Lynch’s words finally made them understand there really was no hope. After venting their emotions, they began to settle down.
The middle-aged man gave his account and password. Then the second, then the third.
They were about to die. Keeping the money was pointless. Better to leave it for their families, give them a new life—that was what they had wanted all along, wasn’t it?
After recording all the information, Lynch carefully put the notebook away.
He sighed lightly. If only they hadn’t been so greedy—things wouldn’t have come to this.
After leaving the prison, Lynch relayed their request to the ambassador. Then—nothing.
Just as he had expected, neither Mr. Truman nor the President made any further response. It was as if nothing had ever happened.
On December 8th, five gunshots ended five lives. Everything set off by Harmony Capital was finally brought to a close.
Time always moves forward, and people always look ahead. Soon, everyone would forget what happened here, forget those who died for one reason or another.
The day after the executions, Lynch boarded a ship eastward with a group of nobles, setting off for the province of Amellia…
No—only some of his things made that trip. After putting the young Count and the others on board, Lynch returned directly to the Federation.
With the election looming, it was best he stayed.
Even if something went wrong, he could still act in time to fix it.
