death of hope

Chapter 25 "Flying Windfall" (25) Bloody Conflict
The special operations team left in an aircraft, and the vehicles that dealt with the funeral arrived shortly after, and cordoned off the scene.

The dark alley was filled with the disgusting stench of garbage and blood. Roy hurried to escape here and came to the broad street.

The nearby street lamps have long been targets for gang members to practice guns. It should be dim, but today it is surprisingly bright and dazzling. The beams of light from high-power searchlights penetrate the mist and illuminate the entire street.

The ground is full of traces of workers' riots;
Pools of uncoagulated blood accompany the corpses, torn flags and armbands are full of radical strike slogans,

The horns that had been trampled and smashed were still blaring electronically, and fragments of explosion-proof shields and riot helmets reflected light...

"You are under arrest, hurry up and get in the car! Don't let me say it a second time!"

The heavily armed National Guard military police escorted the rioters who surrendered with their rifles, and put these rebels on trucks to the detention center to await trial.

Roy continued to walk forward, passing through the heart of the riot, the soles of his shoes were sticky and bloody, and the medical staff were busy cleaning up the scene;

"Hey, help me, this fat man is too heavy! He must have eaten junk food!"

"Help...help me...I'm so cold..."

"Fuck you! Make my mother work overtime, and freeze to death, you idiot!" The nurse scolded.

The dead and the wounded were all carried on stretchers without distinction. The medical staff chewed gum and moved slowly, chatting and working at the same time, not caring about the lives that were passing by.

The armored vehicles of the York City Police Department smashed through the barbed wire barriers set up by the workers, followed by fire trucks, using foam fire extinguishers to deal with the burning tires, and the loud horns on the armored vehicles kept yelling;
"We are the York City Police, here to maintain order!

The rioters have been killed or arrested. This block has been included in the third-level armed control state. Please do not open the shops nearby. Citizens, please pass through as soon as possible and do not stay to avoid danger. "

Despite this, there was an endless stream of people watching the excitement. A couple hugged their children and looked like they were dressed as a family of small clerks with a little savings. The husband pointed to the corpse of a worker leader on the ground:

"Look at this group of idiots, how dare they go against the company. Little Nancy, take care, this is the end of the rebels. They abandon their wives and children to participate in such violent activities. They are really irresponsible men. In the future, when looking for a partner, don't look for poor people! "

The little girl cried and said, "Daddy, it's terrible... let's get out of here... shall we?"

"Hey, look what I found!" The wife handed the child in her arms to her husband, and bent down to pick up the wallet next to the corpse;
"There are 20 yuan in it."

"Not bad, the harvest is not small."

Roy walked past the family with a look of disgust, and cast a pitiful look at the little girl,
He never took part in a strike or a riot, but never took a good look at the cynics.

(These workers may be blindly impulsive, but at least they dare to resist, unlike some chickens who think they are smart.)
Roy walked under a slanted electric pole, was startled by the shaking shoes above him, thought someone had been hanged, looked up and saw that it was a plastic mannequin with red paint written on it. by:

"Go to your XX Sakura Co., Ltd.! Return my hard-earned money!"

An explosion-proof team member in armor came over:
"Hey! Go away! This is not the place for you, be careful to be arrested as a rioter!"

"I'm sorry...I'm leaving now."

"Get the hell out of here!"

Walking out of the heavily guarded warning area, the adjacent block is also a dilapidated scene. There is a sound of "creak...creak" around him. Roy turns his head to look,
It was an old lady in tattered clothes with a hunched waist,
She was pushing a crumbling supermarket trolley filled with soda cans collected from the supermarket rubbish, the creaking sound coming from the broken wheels.

The old lady must be at least 70 years old, with age spots all over her face, skinny, and struggling to move.

This is an old man who picks up waste, which is not uncommon in York City. In fact, the federal government of Tyra distributes a large amount of relief funds every year, but most of the shelters and relief stations in this city have serious corruption.

The money used to buy tents and gruel was used to buy cigarettes, alcohol, and luxury cars. The helpless old people can only support themselves by picking up garbage.

A group of people who were also dressed in rags came over, and they looked to be in their 60s or [-]s. Roy saw tattoos of rotten apples on their arms.

He is a member of the Rotten Gang, composed of a group of older unemployed vagrants. In the violent York City, he belongs to the small gang at the bottom of the food chain, but he still can't afford to provoke him, so Roy hides far away.

The old man walking in the front must be in his 60s, with a white beard and hair, and a strong body. He looks like the little leader of this group of people.

This person caught up with the old lady who was picking up waste, kicked over the supermarket shopping cart, and the cans were scattered everywhere.

"Hey! Old ghost! Who allowed you to come to my site to pick up waste?"

I don't know if it's deafness or something, but the old lady didn't seem to hear clearly. She bent her back and struggled to lift the shopping cart, trying to pick up the cans one by one.

"X you X! Are you deaf?"

The old man stepped forward and pushed the old lady down, and then told his subordinates: "Pack up the things and go to the recycling station to sell the money to buy wine."

Hearing about drinking, a group of old guys got excited, picked up the cans in a hurry, whistled and pushed the cart away.

Seeing everyone walking away, Roy dared to come out from the darkness.

(The weak punches the weaker... This city has degenerated from a civilized society to a jungle where the weak prey on the strong. The city is dead.

Where is fairness and justice, there is no company security that falls from the sky to save her, at least... let me prove that I am still a person. )
Roy helped the old man up and learned that she still had a wife who needed to support her. She didn't shed a single tear from the beginning to the end, maybe the tear glands had been drained long ago.

"Grandma, when you need relief, go to the No. 11 Aid Station on Holy Church Street in DC. The station manager there is a devout Catholic. He is a good man and will help you."

With that said, Roy took out three hundred-dollar bills from his pocket and stuffed them into the old man's palm:
"Go to the bank and change it into change before spending it. Don't be too ostentatious. Don't change your clothes. It's easy to be remembered by the wicked. Don't come to gang sites to pick up waste. It's too dangerous."

"Such a large denomination bill... this... this is too much, I can't accept it..."

"I'm going to immigrate soon. I'm leaving this ghostly place. Do something good before I leave. In the words of the monks, accumulate some virtue so that I can enjoy happiness after death." Roy smiled, got up and left.

"Wait! Boy... at least let me know who you are!"

Roy turned around:
"A man whose humanity has not yet died out."

(End of this chapter)