"I think I've done enough."

Klein spoke without the slightest fluctuation in his tone: "Sir, sometimes, you can never imagine how important a salary is to a poor person. Even if they are only unemployed for a week or two, their families will experience irreversible and tragic events. Extreme damage."

He paused, and then asked: "I'm curious, why don't you, who are so caring, not add dust and lead poisoning protection equipment in the factory?"

Deville looked at the ceiling and smiled wryly: "That would make my cost unacceptably high, and I would be completely unable to compete with other lead factories and porcelain factories. I don't care too much about the benefits in this regard, and I am even willing to subsidize part of the money , but it�s always like this, so what�s the point? This can only help a small number of workers, and it cannot become the standard of the industry and drive them to make changes.�

"This will lead to me purely spending money to support people. I heard that some factories are still secretly using slaves in order to save costs."

Klein clasped his hands together, and said in silence for a while, "Sir, your psychological problems come from this little bit of accumulated guilt, even though you thought they had faded and disappeared. Originally, this wouldn't be too obvious. Influence, but something irritates you, and all the problems are ignited at once, all ignited."

"Something irritated me? I didn't know there was such a thing." Dwyer said doubtfully but with certainty.

Klein let his body rock gently with the rocking chair, and explained in a calm tone: "You actually fell asleep for a few minutes just now and told me one thing."

"Hypnotherapy?" Deville habitually made guesses and pre-judged.

Klein didn't give a direct answer, and said directly: "You once saw a female worker who died on the way to work in the carriage. She died of lead poisoning and was glazing your porcelain."

"..." Deville rubbed his temples on both sides, and whispered uncertainly, "There seems to be such a thing...but I don't remember it clearly..."

The long-term insomnia made his mental state very poor, and he seemed to have seen a similar scene vaguely.

He thought for a while, stopped squeezing his poor brain, and asked instead, "What's the name of that female worker?"

"Well, I mean, what should I do to treat my psychological problems?"

Klein replied in a low voice and concisely: "Two things."

"First, the female worker who died on the roadside was called Hailiye Walker. You told me that she was the most direct stimulus. Therefore, you need to find her parents and give more compensation."

"Second, widely publicize the dangers of lead in newspapers and magazines, let your charitable funds help more harmed workers, and if you can become a member of the House of Lords, then promote legislation in this regard."

Deville sat up slowly, smiled self-deprecatingly and said: "I will do other things, but legislation, huh, I don't think this is possible, because there are still foreign competitors, legislation will only make these kingdoms The whole industry is in crisis, one bankrupt after another, and a lot of workers are out of work, and the poor organization can't save so many people."

He rolled over and got off the bed unhappily, straightened his neckline, looked at Klein and said, "Hailey Walker, right? I will immediately ask Karen to go to the porcelain factory to get her information and find her parents, police officer , please wait with me and evaluate my mental state at all times."

"Okay." Klein stood up slowly, and took a picture of the black-and-white police uniform.

����

At eleven o'clock in the morning, the living room on the first floor of Deville's house.

Klein, who hadn't spoken much all this time, sat on the single sofa, silently watching a man and a woman being ushered in by the butler Karen.

The skin of the two guests was rough, wrinkles had begun to appear on their faces, the man's back was slightly bent, and the woman had a mole on her eyelid.

They were basically the same as what Klein saw through Hayley, but they were older and more emaciated, so thin that their bones could be seen, and their clothes were old and tattered. It was said that they could hardly live on the streets of Iron Cross Street.

Woo...

In Klein's inspiration, the cold wind began to swirl.

He squeezed the space between his brows, turned his gaze to Sir Deville, and saw a pale, transparent, distorted figure appear behind him at some point.

"Morning, good morning, respect, sir." Hai Liye's parents saluted very cautiously.

Deville rubbed his forehead and asked, "Are you Hayley Walker's parents? Doesn't she have a brother and a two-year-old sister?" JrNovels.com