Chapter 879: When You Can't Be Filled and The Storm Auge's Death Will Bring

A quiet night.

Admiral Diaz didn't call Lance. Lance knew that this person would be even greedier.

If Admiral Diaz wasn't a greedy person, then there was a high probability that he would have someone send the thing back, instead of keeping it.

As long as he kept it, he was definitely not some kind of a moral saint.

In fact, what moral saints are there in this world? Those who are more glamorous, the filth in their hearts is even more terrible than people can imagine.

Some people's badness is on the surface. Maybe he will bully people, will rob, or do some bad things.

Some people's badness is in their bones, in a place that people can't see.

Their badness has already evolved to the level of "evil."

What kind of a person Admiral Diaz was, Lance was not yet very clear, but he would find out.

He hadn't called him about this model, which meant that this money could still move him.

The morning sun, shining through the gap in the curtains, entered the room. Lance slowly opened his eyes.

It was six o'clock.

The sky in summer brightens relatively early. Reason told him that he should now get up from this damn bed, which had a sealing attribute, and then go and get himself clean, and then go out for a run, until he came back before breakfast.

But his body told him that he couldn't.

He changed his position and squinted for a while more. It was really just a moment. By the time he had opened his eyes and was lost in his thoughts, it was already almost seven.

At this time, it was definitely too late to go for a run. He stood up and walked to the side of the window, and opened the curtains, letting the sunlight from outside spill in.

Bathing in the sun, he stretched. It was another sunny and beautiful day.

After a simple wash, he came to the dining room.

Due to security concerns, Emily and Patricia had continued to stay at the Lawrence Farm, and William had already gone to Lake City. There was no one here, only Lance.

The one who was making breakfast was a hired cook. It was said that this cook had worked for the Empire's nobility.

Don't be fooled by the fact that she looked to be in her forties or fifties. She was definitely a good hand at work!

Lance sat at the dining table and picked up today's newspaper. They were arranged in order, according to Lance's habits and preferences for reading the newspaper.

This was done by the butler.

Lance picked up the topmost Golden Port Today and was soon attracted by the front-page headline.

"The Working Class is Not a Bargaining Chip for Power and Profit," a very attractive headline.

He roughly knew what was going on, and then he shook open the newspaper and began to read it seriously.

Auge was dead.

The skilled tailor from the Labor Federation who had participated in the strike at the garment factory was dead.

His leg, due to the lack of follow-up treatment, mainly because he had no money and had no way to cooperate with the hospital to continue to treat him, had already developed a series of serious problems.

The pain had been tormenting him all along, so much so that he didn't know if it was his leg that was hurting, or his soul. He could only continue to increase the dosage of the painkillers.

He had been tormented into a good-for-nothing by the painkillers and the pain, and was slumped in his wheelchair all day.

In fact, he could move, but he had already given up the struggle.

In July, which was just a few days ago, the hospital had come to find him and had asked him for this month's installment payment, which he couldn't come up with.

After the people from the bank had left, his wife had secretly followed them, and had paid the first installment.

What he didn't know was that Auge had then tried every possible way and had actually managed to get the money for the first installment.

Selling his blood, and borrowing money from his former colleagues.

Then he had gone to the hospital's side and had said that he wanted to give them the money, but their staff had said that his money for last month had already been paid.

This had made Auge very puzzled. He had confirmed with the staff again and again, and had even found the person who had contacted him, and only then had he learned that it was his wife who had paid the installment for June.

A woman, where did she get such a sum of money?

For a rich person, maybe a few dozen dollars was just a small, inadvertent expense, but for an ordinary person, this was a wealth that they might not be able to save even if they ate less and spent less for a month.

Now, his wife, had actually given it so easily?

Countless thoughts were spinning in his mind. He returned home and sat in the living room, silently waiting.

In the evening, his wife had come in with a basket of vegetables. When she saw Auge sitting in the place that was directly facing the main gate, she was a little surprised, but soon she showed a smile and lifted the basket in her hand. "I bought some minced beef and onions today, and also a tomato."

"We can cook some tomato beef soup. Isn't that your favorite?"

Auge did not speak, but just stared at his wife. It was only at this time that he had noticed that his wife's complexion had become much better, and... in her every move, she seemed to have become more confident.

He didn't know what had caused all this, but he knew that something must have happened to his wife.

He just sat there, staring at his wife. She was a little unable to bear his stare. She turned to look at Auge. "What's wrong?"

"Is there something wrong with me?" she asked a little unnaturally.

Auge tilted his head. A wave of pain surged from his body again, as if they had discovered his current angry mood and had suddenly begun to act up!

In his silence, he took out the small bottle of painkillers, took out three pills from it, and with a slightly trembling hand, he put the three pills into his mouth, and then chewed hard.

He supported himself on the armrests of the wheelchair with both hands, his body leaning forward slightly, his head lowered. His body was trembling from the pain.

"The doctor said that if you continue to abuse the painkillers like this, you will only become more and more dependent on them!"

His wife's words made him raise his head. Behind his messy hair was a pair of eyes that were faintly visible, a pair of eyes that were full of confusion, pain, and anger.

"They said you've paid last month's money."

His wife was silent for a moment. "Yes, I have."

"Where did the money come from?" he stared at his wife's expression and eyes, wanting to see how she would lie.

She also indeed did not know how to answer this question. Although she had thought many times that she would be discovered, and how to deal with it, at this very moment, she did not know what to say, or how to say it.

The ones she had thought of in advance had all become meaningless.

"I earned it from my job," she said.

Auge didn't believe it at all.

"You, a housewife who can't do anything, can earn dozens of dollars a month?"

"And our food this month has also been not bad. On what basis did you earn so much money?"

His eyeballs were a little red, which was caused by the blood.

"I do housework for a rich family," in her desperation, she had still decided to use the countermeasure she had thought of before, and she had said the lines she had prepared.

She was a housewife. What she was best at was doing housework, so for a rich person to need such a maid, this was very reasonable.

But Auge still didn't believe it. The two looked at each other, through his hair.

Perhaps from his wife's eyes, he had seen a firmness that did not waver and did not avoid. He was a little less certain.

"You're not lying?"

His wife's voice grew louder. She had found that her husband seemed to have begun to show weakness, so subconsciously, her voice had become louder. "You actually don't believe me!"

Auge shook his head. "You'd better not be lying to me!"

He said and then pushed his wheelchair and returned to his room. And his wife continued to deal with everything on the stove.

Dinner was the best dinner in a long time, a thick tomato and onion beef soup. The onions and tomatoes were completely dissolved in the soup. Auge's wife had also added a little wheat flour to make it look a little thick.

Every spoonful was filled with a large amount of minced beef. Whether you drank it directly, or ate it, or dipped it with a bread roll, it was the best choice!

The family, as in the past, sat together and enjoyed their dinner. The daughter was surprised by the sumptuous dinner today. "Are we rich again?"

She looked at her father with an expectant look. "Did you find a job?"

The corner of Auge's mouth twitched. He lowered his head and scooped up a spoonful of soup with his spoon and put it in his mouth.

The girl looked at her mother with some confusion, and her mother just shook her head slightly.

Although the food tonight was very good, it was also a dull dinner.

For a whole night, the couple did not speak, both of them were thinking about their own worries.

The next morning, Auge sensed that his wife had already left, and he had also quickly gotten out of bed.

He knew that it would be very difficult for him to find his wife, so he had asked the reporter for help.

All of this was a planned script. The reporter would certainly not let go of this important news material. He had driven his car and had followed his wife with Auge.

Not long after, they had seen his wife change into a set of clothes in a small hotel, and then had returned to the street.

At this moment, Auge's whole person had fallen apart.

He saw a man who was even shorter than his wife, with his arm around his wife's waist, go to the hotel next door.

At this moment, he wished he could rush up, but just as he was about to do so, the reporter in the driver's cab suddenly asked, "Do you want to stop her?"

Auge looked at the reporter, very hurt. At this time, he had already realized that perhaps from the very beginning, it had been a "setup." He had fallen into it, and was sinking deeper and deeper.

He looked at the reporter with a kind of a violence after being hurt, but the reporter was not afraid of him, and was also staring at his eyes through the rearview mirror.

"Have you ever thought, if you stop her, how are you going to pay this month's installment for the hospital?"

"Even if you have the money in your hand, how are you going to pay for next month's?"

"Do you want your whole family to be kicked out onto the street?"

"Think about your daughter, think about her life that has just begun!"

As he spoke, a sneer appeared on the reporter's face. He stared at Auge's eyes through the rearview mirror. "Your painkillers, what about them?"

"You haven't forgotten, have you?"

"The painkillers you're taking now are all bought for you by your wife."

"If you go and stop her, everything you have left now will come to an end."

The reporter's words had deeply stung Auge's heart. His hand was on the back of the front seat, and the other hand was grabbing the clothes on his chest. He was gasping for breath, his face pale.

The reporter, however, had no pity for this man. "If you really want to stop her, then you should quit the painkillers."

The reporter felt that if he could, with his personal perseverance, quit the painkillers, this could also be reported as a piece of news, to, in the face of adversity and despair, to stand up again with his personal perseverance.

People would like this story. It might be a little too idealistic, but... at least it would give people an inspiring strength.

Soon he had driven the car away from here and had returned to Auge's home, which no longer belonged to him.

It's unknown if the previous stimulation had been too stimulating. He had begun to feel his body starting to hurt again. He had just taken out the bottle of painkillers when he had thought of the words that the reporter had said.

He gritted his teeth. He had originally planned to throw the bottle away, but for some reason, he had suddenly given up this idea.

After all, it had all been bought with money. He put the bottle of painkillers in his pants pocket.

He glanced at the reporter, as if he were telling the other party that he could get through it.

The reporter just responded with a smile. He had checked the data. For people who had become dependent on painkillers due to abuse, there were indeed some who could quit, but not many.

At this time, Auge could no longer care about these. He began to fight against the pain that was constantly coming from his body.

Even when he was breathing, he could feel the pain from his lungs rubbing against the other parts of his body. It was so clear!

He began to sweat. He just made a clenching motion, and the piercing pain from the joints of his palm had made him tremble and he had opened his palm, not daring to use any more force!

He could clearly feel the pain from his bones rubbing against each other. It was too painful!

His whole body was trembling slightly, but even if he did nothing, he was still in pain!

His femoral head was in pain, his spine was in pain, and there was almost no part of his body that was not in pain. It was too painful!

He subconsciously was about to go and get the small pills, but he had glanced at the half-smile on the reporter's face. He gritted his teeth and continued to endure in the intense pain!

After an unknown amount of time, he had thought that this pain was just in stages, but now it seemed that he was wrong.

This pain was continuous. He didn't know when it would end. Maybe in the next second, but maybe never!

Even his breathing had begun to have a burning sensation. He couldn't take it anymore!

He endured the intense pain, took out the small medicine bottle, shook out four small pills, and then stuffed them into his mouth.

Five minutes later, he felt as if he had returned to the world from hell. Just not being in pain, it was so comfortable!

If he had known a certain bakery owner who had already lost his human form, they would definitely have had a common language.

After being comfortable for a while, he had fallen into a deep self-blame and regret. Why, why couldn't he have held on?

Maybe in the next second, everything would have been fine, but why hadn't he held on?

He gave himself a slap, and then sat there in a daze.

Before he had the ability to solve the problem of the painkillers, it seemed that he really had no way to stop his wife from walking the streets, because without this income, he couldn't even afford the painkillers.

However, he believed that everything would be fine. As long as his leg injury was healed, he would go and find a job, so that his wife would not have to walk the streets.

In the evening, Auge's wife had brought back some good food. Auge had almost opened his mouth several times, but in the end, he had held it back.

The family had finished their dinner in a dull atmosphere. Auge had gone to bed early. He felt that he was a clown, and he also hated himself. He couldn't face his wife.

Whether it was because of anger, or because of guilt, he couldn't!

For several days in a row, Auge had begun to gradually accept this result. His wife had become a prostitute.

He had heard from the reporter that his wife could earn at least a dozen or so a day. This had not only made him astonished, but it had also seemed to make him be able to barely accept his wife's doing this job.

After all, the money that those johns had given was really a lot.

If there were no accidents, perhaps next month, the month after, he would be able to accept all this, but an accident still happened.

In the afternoon, his wife had run back from outside, and then had locked herself in her room and had not said a word.

Then his good friends had also come to the door with two people. As soon as they had seen Auge, they had said loudly, "Did you know?"

"Your wife is walking the streets!"

The old-fashioned apartment building did not have any good soundproofing. Soon the people next door had all known about this. They had poked their heads out and were listening to what was happening here in the corridor.

At this time, his ears were buzzing. He could only see his friends talking there, but he couldn't hear a single sound.

Soon the few people had left, but outside the door, there were pairs of eyes that were looking in, and their meaningful gazes.

He had even seen the "something-is-about-to-be-achieved" smile on the faces of a few of the middle-aged and elderly neighbors!

A man's, his only remaining, dignity, had been fiercely thrown on the ground, and had been rubbed back and forth.

In the evening, after his daughter had come back and had also learned of this, she had gotten angry in the face of her daughter's questioning, but this had also made his daughter run out. She couldn't accept this!

Her mother had become a streetwalker. Tomorrow the whole school would know. She could even imagine that those bad boys might go and find her mother to have a transaction, and then to use this to humiliate her!

She couldn't stand this. She wanted to run away from home!

Auge and his wife had had a fierce quarrel. Soon his wife had also left home, leaving only him sitting foolishly in his wheelchair in the living room.

The empty home was like his empty heart. He held his forehead and covered his eyes, and began to cry his eyes out...

Everything was only one step away from the final sublimation!

The reporter had dialed the editor-in-chief's number, and then he had temporarily left Auge's room and had come to the street downstairs.

He smoked a cigarette and watched as a few unusual-looking men entered the apartment building. About seven or eight minutes later, with a dull thud of a heavy object falling to the ground, Auge had appeared in front of him in another way!

All of this had been faithfully published in the newspaper by the reporters. Of course, they had not mentioned that someone had helped Auge to walk the final part of his journey.

After reading the entire report, Lance let out a light sigh. He was also an unlucky bastard.

Who's a good person to offend? To offend him?

Lance could predict that this report would shake the entire working class of the Federation!

They had regarded certain people as the same class, as worker brothers.

But those people had only treated them as a bargaining chip for power and profit!