"Sir, would you like a newspaper?"
A young boy wearing a dirty baseball cap and carrying a large leather satchel appeared in front of Lynch.
The boy looked to be around eleven or twelve years old. He gazed at Lynch with a hint of expectation, opening his satchel to reveal the newspapers inside.
These children are all managed by various "paper heads." This term doesn't refer to newspaper headlines, but rather the controllers of the newspaper boys.
These handlers, through certain connections or methods, tightly control the mobile newspaper selling markets in some areas. There, only their newspaper boys can sell papers; outsiders are not allowed in, and newsstands are excluded.
Every morning, they gather outside the newspaper office to load the still warm papers onto carts, pull them back to their "base," and then distribute them to the young boys before driving them onto the streets.
Each child has a sales quota, a minimum threshold. If they fall short, they face beatings or starvation. Only by surpassing the quota can they eat, but there are no rewards beyond that.
Orphanages and some impoverished families have already taken the wages for their work. All they can do is work as much as possible in exchange for shelter from the elements and two meals to keep them alive.
Some may see this as Hell, but compared to those living in even more desperate Abysses, these children might as well be in the Celestial Kingdom.
Lynch took a one-dollar bill from his pocket and selected two newspapers. Locally published papers cost fifty cents each, while nationally published ones are a dollar each.
The newspaper boy continually thanked Lynch for his patronage, even taking off his cap and bowing. To Lynch, spending one dollar on two newspapers is an unavoidable part of life, yet it's the redemption this child yearns for every day.
The boy was about to leave when Lynch called him back.
"Sir, is there anything else I can serve you with?" asked the young boy.
Kids like him often adapt to society much better than those with decent family conditions who are still in school. Looking at the youthful yet prematurely matured face adorned with smiles, Lynch felt a bit melancholic.
It's the worst of times, yet also the best of times.
He asked, "Do you want to make money?"
The boy immediately nodded, "I dream of it, sir, but I won't do anything illegal."
Where there is light, there will be darkness. If darkness makes the light brighter, then conversely, light will make the darkness darker.
Some exploit children to sell papers, while others exploit them for crime. These aren't secret rumors. During this period of societal prosperity, everyone is blinded by Wealth.
No matter what the task, if money can be made, someone will do it.
Lynch shook his head, "Do you have ninety-seven cents?"
The newspaper boy hesitated but quickly pulled ninety-seven cents from his pocket. His pocket contained some loose change, arranged by the handlers in each boy's backpack before they set out.
This money does not belong to them. Upon returning, the handlers would tally the money, and if anything was lost or less, a beating or starvation would ensue, making the kids very sensitive to money.
Seeing the ninety-seven cents - all in coins - in the boy's hand, Lynch took out a dollar and placed it in the boy's left hand, taking ninety-seven cents from the other hand.
"Sir, it's missing three cents, let me find them for you…" The newspaper boy assumed Lynch wanted change, as city transport generally uses ten and twenty-five-cent tickets, for distances under and over five kilometers respectively.
Whether a bus or metro, no change is given. If you pay fifty cents, they'll give you two tickets rather than one with change.
This is why many people carry some change to avoid losses.
Lynch stopped the boy, repeating the question, "Do you want to make money?"
The boy couldn't yet react, but the opportunity to benefit so openly made him uneasy. He hesitated before nodding, "I do, sir, I dream of it!"
The smile on Lynch's face was like the rising sun to the boy - not blinding, with gentle warmth that could tear through the darkness and illuminate the whole sky!
"Do you have ninety-seven cents?" he asked again.
Briefly bewildered and shocked, the newspaper boy quickly pulled another ninety-seven cents from his satchel, holding them in his palm.
His face flushed, visibly excited, nervous, apprehensive, yet also doubtful, his clear eyes watched Lynch, wondering what this man intended.
Lynch took out another dollar, placed it in the newspaper boy's hand, and took ninety-seven cents from his other hand, smiling subtly as he asked, "Do you want to make money?"
The newspaper boy was trembling with excitement, nodding repeatedly as he gathered all the change to make ninety-seven cents, "It's all here, sir..."
Lynch counted twelve dollars and placed them in his hand, pocketing all the change, "It seems you only have this much."
The newspaper boy was thrilled, although he only exchanged fourteen dollars worth of change with Lynch, and his income already had forty-two cents, close to half a dollar.
You must understand, no matter how well he does at his current job, he won't get a penny, as handlers turn all rewards over to the orphanage.
This newspaper boy grew up in the orphanage. According to the orphanage, they should do something for the orphanage that raised them without asking for anything in return.
Typically, if they aren't adopted by age ten, the chances of adoption drop significantly, except for some girls, adopted for different reasons and purposes.
However, the orphanage doesn't interfere much. After age fourteen, children can refuse adoption, and after sixteen, they must leave to survive on their own.
In other words, boys over ten are essentially considered "peripheral" by the orphanage. Adoption subsidies and donations from these children become scarce, so they must work.
They need to work to compensate for the orphanage's years of raising them, whether right or not. It doesn't matter; no one cares. People only focus on matters affecting their personal interests.
After being pushed out by the orphanage, figuring out how to quickly integrate into society and secure shelter is the most distressing issue for these kids.
If they can get some money before leaving, not much, just enough to get by for a short time, they'd have a chance to survive.
Lynch's exchange of small money allowed the boy to discover a bright path, just like he asked—do you want to make money?
And his own answer—to dream about it!
After safely pocketing the money, the newspaper boy hesitantly asked, "Sir, will you be here tomorrow?"
Lynch nodded, "I'll be here before lunch. If I'm not, I'll appear the next day!" He tapped his wrist, "You still have enough time..."
These kids, beginning to understand society, immediately grasped Lynch's meaning. About ten minutes later, a crowd of newspaper boys gathered, with more continually arriving.