Mystery: When the Lost Homelanders Meet the Lost Homeland Call

After the trial, Lynn began his most arduous task: repaying the money.

"This is the hard-earned money the Iron Hammer Gang squeezed out of you. There's a traceable record; we've already checked the ledgers, and you can take it back. Those who haven't paid them yet..."

An old woman walked shakily to the platform and knelt down.

"My lord..." her voice was hoarse, "My eldest son... owed them eight gold pounds... couldn't pay it back, and they broke his leg... later... later his wound got infected, and he died..."

She looked up, her cloudy eyes filled with tears.

Lynn bent down and helped her up.

"Madam," he said gently, "your son's debt is no longer incurred."

He rubbed his hands together, and a ghostly green flame rose from them, licking the stack of papers before quickly turning into a normal-colored flame.

"Treat all debts as if they never existed."

The paper curled, blackened, and turned to ash in the flames. The ash drifted in the morning breeze, settling among the crowd, on the shoulders of those burdened by debt.

Many people in the crowd covered their faces, their shoulders heaving, and tears seeped through their fingers.

Then Lynn took a handful of sour and pennies from his pocket and put them into the old woman's hand.

"This is the money the Iron Hammer Gang took from your house, and we're returning it to you with interest."

The old woman stared at the money in her hand, her lips trembling, unable to speak. She knelt on the ground, hugged Lynn's legs, and cried like a child.

More people surged forward from the crowd.

"My lord! What about my debt?"

"Sir! They've swindled my father out of his house!"

"Sir! My sister has been sold to the East District!"

Lynn raised his hand, signaling for everyone to be quiet.

"Don't rush. One at a time. Everyone will receive justice."

He turned to old Neil and his men and nodded.

"Those whose names I call, come forward. Bring your IOUs, contracts, or any evidence that proves you've been oppressed by the Hammer Gang. If you don't have any evidence, you'll have to spend some time letting us look through the ledgers."

He began to read the names.

"Thomas Gray."

The gaunt middle-aged man stepped forward, his hands trembling so much he could barely hold the IOU. Old Neil checked it, counted out 2 gold pounds and 10 soles from the box behind him, and handed it to him.

  

"This is the 2 gold pounds you borrowed back then, plus the extra money you repaid. Everything the Hammer Gang squeezed out of you is being returned."

Thomas held the money, completely frozen in place.

"This...this..." His voice was hoarse, "This is too much...I just..."

"Here's your money." Lynn walked over and patted him on the shoulder. "They took it from you, and now it's back to you."

Thomas looked down at the money in his hand.

Then, this man, who had been carrying goods at the dock for five years and whose back had never been straightened by debt, suddenly squatted down, hugged his head, and burst into tears.

He cried like a child, cried without any dignity, cried with tears streaming down his face. This was the first time in five years that he felt like a human being again.

The list continued to be read aloud.

One by one, people stepped forward, retrieved their money, and destroyed their IOUs.

Some people received more, some received less, but no matter how much, they all returned it in full.

Old Neil walked up to him and whispered, "Sir, there's still a considerable amount of money in the account. The Hammer Gang's vault, plus the cash and valuables from their various outposts, totals approximately..."

He lowered his voice and said a number.

Lynn raised an eyebrow; this was more than he had expected.

The Hammer Gang had been operating in the dock area for ten years, accumulating wealth far exceeding his estimates. The large sums of cash hidden in wall cracks, under floorboards, and in secret rooms added up to a fortune that would tempt anyone.

More importantly, their business practices are unsustainable and exploitative. Many of the poor people who have been charged money will die that winter, and in the end, when Lynn wants to return the money, there will be no one to take it.

Lynn thought for a moment and said:

"The rest will be distributed among the people, a few soles each. Enough for a few full meals, but not so much that it will arouse the covetousness of others."

Old Neil nodded, understanding what he meant.

If too much is given out, the poor will become easy prey in the eyes of others. A few sulphurs are enough for them to improve their lives for a few days, but they won't bring them trouble.

"What's left after the distribution," Lynn added, "will be used as seed money for the dock area community alliance."

"Community alliance?" Old Neil was taken aback.

Lynn nodded.

"We'll talk about it later."

The process of distributing the money lasted for the entire morning.

Old Neil, with twenty men, meticulously checked the ledgers, returned the money, and destroyed the IOUs. Lynn stood on the platform, maintaining order and ensuring no one was overlooked or took advantage of the chaos.

The money was distributed in the afternoon.

The Hammer Gang's vault was almost emptied, but everyone received a little money.

The expressions on people's faces in the square changed.

When they arrived in the morning, they were still numb, exhausted, and overwhelmed by the pressures of life.

Now, their eyes are shining; they see hope.

Lynn walked up to the platform again.

"Gentlemen," he said, "the Hammer Gang is finished. Their money has been returned to you, their debts have been wiped clean. From this day forward, you owe no one anything."

A low cheer rose from the crowd.

"There's one more thing."

As the cheers gradually subsided, Lynn spoke again.

"I will not kill those whose hands are not stained with blood."

He pointed to the remaining trembling Hammer Gang members.

"But they can't just leave like that. What they owe the dock district can't be repaid with a single beating."

"From today onwards, they will serve the dock area. Road repairs, building repairs, garbage cleanup, cargo handling—all the dirtiest and hardest work will be assigned to them. No wages, no days off, and meals will be provided at the lowest standard in the entire dock area. They will only be released when they have atoned for their sins."

Lynn paused. He knew that at this intensity, it was essentially a slow death sentence, but so what?

Aren't dockworkers working at the same intensity?

This intensity has been maintained for so many years. Gangsters, take a look at yourselves and see if you've been putting in any effort.

"As for when it is considered 'paid off', that's up to you to decide."

A murmur arose from the crowd, but no one objected.

"Furthermore," Lynn continued, "the Hammer Gang has controlled the Dockworkers' Guild for years, turning it into a tool for their enrichment. From today onward, the guild no longer belongs to the Hammer Gang, but to every worker in the docklands."

He took a piece of paper out of his pocket, unfolded it, and on it were the few lines he had just written.

"I will temporarily serve as the guild leader until a new person is elected."

"From today onwards, all income of the guild, including membership fees, management fees, and mutual aid funds, will be publicly accounted for, and everyone must know where every penny goes."

"The guild will no longer charge workers additional 'management fees' and 'referral fees.' All registered workers can automatically join the guild, and workers will no longer be forced to make purchases at designated stores."

"The guild must fight for fair wages, safe working conditions, and basic medical care for all workers, just as they have done for their members in the past."

"For the time being, a group of people I have chosen will serve as managers under me, and this will be replaced in the future."

He put the paper away and looked at the crowd.

Do you agree?

The square fell silent for a moment. Some people heard the last sentence and worried that Lynn might become the next "Hammer Gang," but most of them didn't think that much about it.

The old fisherman and twenty others raised their hands.

"I agree!"

Then more and more people raised their hands and shouted "Agree".

The sounds grew louder and more synchronized, eventually coalescing into a deafening roar.

Lynn stood on the wooden platform, looking at the gray sea of ​​people gathered together, and a strange feeling suddenly welled up in his heart.

He recalled the Lost Home sailing through the towering waves of the boundless sea. He remembered the captain standing at the bow, looking at the storm ahead, and saying to the crew, "We are going to prove that humanity will not stop because of fear."

Now, he stands here, facing a different kind of storm.

A more complex and difficult-to-confront storm, woven from human nature and institutions.

"I'm setting sail again, Captain."

-

The crowd in the square gradually dispersed.

Old Neil led his men to pack up the stall and count the remaining money and supplies, with Lynn also helping out.

"You did well today," Lynn said. "It went more smoothly than I expected."

Old Neil thought of something: "The Kingdom government will find out about today's events sooner or later. Those whose names you read out of the list—the sheriff, the councilors, the tax collectors—they won't let this go. They'll find a way to retaliate, they'll find a way to take back the Hammer Gang's power."

"It's okay, they won't make a move right away."

"As I just announced, from today onwards, I am the new president of the Dockworkers' Guild. The Hammer Gang's affairs will most likely be judged as an 'internal gang fight.' They don't have the keen sense to interpret the significance of my judgment."

"Sir," Old Neil hesitated for a moment before finally asking the question that had been bothering him, "You said you wanted to become the guild master, but do you really intend to manage these affairs long-term? Don't you... have more important things to do?"

Lynn glanced at him and said slowly, "Old Neil, do you know that power abhors a vacuum?"

Old Neil paused, then said, "You mean...?"

"With the Hammer Gang gone, a 'management' position in the docks is vacant. If I don't take it, it won't be long before someone else does. A new Hammer Gang, a new underworld, a new bloodsucker." Lynn's tone was calm, as if he were stating something perfectly ordinary. "Rather than letting some unknown thing emerge, I'd rather occupy it first. At least I can guarantee that while I'm in this position, the people in the docks won't be bullied."

Old Neil nodded thoughtfully.

"But this is only temporary. I can't stay here forever. What this world needs to change is the entire set of rules that govern it. Just when the sluggish government machinery has caught up," Lynn chuckled, "a new organization is about to be born."

"A community alliance?" Old Neil paused for a moment, then said in a low voice, "Can it really work?"

Lynn glanced at him.

What do you think?

Old Neil thought about it.

"I don't know," he said honestly. "It's too big of an idea. To let people who can't even read manage themselves... I don't know if they can do it."

"They can do it," Lynn said. "If you give them the chance."

"Community alliances are just the beginning. They let ordinary people know that they can manage themselves."

Old Neil listened in silence.

"Once the community union has established itself, and once those ordinary people have learned how to hold meetings, how to vote, and how to fight for their rights, then I, as the 'guild leader,' can step down." Lynn turned to look at Old Neil, a slight smile playing on his lips. "At that time, I won't have to worry about these trivial matters anymore, and I can focus on researching my more troublesome problems."

Old Neil couldn't help but laugh: "What you call 'trivial matters' are huge to the people in the dock area."

"Yes," Lynn sighed, "That's why I say there can't be a power vacuum. Because where there's a power vacuum, bad things will grow. And once bad things grow, it's hard to uproot them."

He paused, then added, "Like the weeds in your garden. You have to pull them out before they take root. Once they've taken root, even if you pull them out, the soil will still be full of their seeds."

Old Neil paused for a moment, then asked, "Sir, you've also grown flowers?"

"No," Lynn answered honestly, "but I've seen barnacles grow wildly at sea. Once they take root on the hull, cleaning them can be deadly for the sailors."

Old Neil nodded, accepting the analogy.

"Let's settle the accounts first. There are still many properties that need to be taken over. Hopefully, we can get those things done by next Monday."