Most Middle Class communities have excellent service companies, from cleaning to security, including a community hospital and doctors, providing full care and services to residents.
For these services, people living in these communities spend quite a bit each quarter to enjoy them, but their expenditure is worthwhile, as it grants them a level of "dignity" and "decency" evidently higher than the lower class.
Lynch had just ridden his bike from the main road into the community entrance when the Security Guard at the booth stopped him, "This is a non-public area, you can't go in..."
The sky was already getting dark, and the Security Guard initially didn't notice Lynch's attire. As Lynch got closer, he saw Lynch's outfit - a typical electrician.
Generally, many Middle Class communities have their own electricians. The electricians' salaries are not paid by the service company but by the community homeowners collectively, and they also pay the service company an additional part as management fees.
The advantage of this setup is that if any household's electrical system has an issue, an electrician will quickly appear to solve the problem. However, this has led to some other issues, such as dissatisfaction from the power company.
What originally should have been the power company's business was taken by the service companies. They certainly wouldn't ignore it and found a way to recoup losses, which was aging and inspection of electrical circuits.
The service company did not acknowledge the power company's demands, and the power company used various means, mainly phone intimidation, to tell those communities with electricians that their circuits were facing aging. Some community owners refused to inspect the circuits, resulting in a fire, and several went to meet the Lord, etc.
In the end, most owners would request the power company to inspect and were willing to pay an additional fee for it - without realizing that the bill would be delivered to their mailbox by the service company before the cycle ends.
Some people read every expense's purpose; these are those Middle Class who have begun to feel the pinch. Most normal families don't care about these small amounts.
That's why lines and equipment in Middle Class and some top communities are wrapped with a layer of lead seal prohibiting dismantling, which only power company personnel can remove. If any part is dismantled for inspection, the entire community's owners will have to foot the bill.
This doesn't apply to all communities; some communities' service companies don't offer electrical services, which is a normal phenomenon.
Lynch stopped his bike and raised the clipboard in his hand. The repair order on the front page made him appear more official, "I'm here to inspect the lines; someone said they saw signs of aging and cracking..."
The Security Guard frowned, knowing these were the power company's tricks. But that wasn't his concern; he had no reason to offend people over company matters.
He waved his hand, advising Lynch not to disturb the residents here before returning to the booth, diligently guarding his post.
Lynch effortlessly found Michael's house. Next to his yard stood a utility pole with a lookout place resembling a medieval ship tower where people could stand, which was the main inspection site.
There was a box there, containing some power equipment. The opening was sealed with lead strips that required special tools to cut to open.
The numbers on these lead strips were used as a basis for charging the service company. Normally, electricians present numbered lead strips to the service company for record-keeping and then bring them back to the power company.
With ease, Lynch climbed the raised sections of the utility pole. From this vantage, he could clearly observe Michael's entire house.
One must admit that this bastard had picked a great location. It appeared to be a three-story standalone house of about two hundred square meters, with front and rear yards. Although there wasn't a swimming pool, there were some small landscaping features.
Occasionally, people passed through here and glanced up at Lynch busy at work, quickly withdrawing their gaze without stopping.
The weather was getting hotter, indeed the season for frequent line inspections. Every summer, fires from aged circuits occurred almost weekly across the entire Federation.
In upscale communities, it's normal to have inspections monthly, especially during those hottest days with peak electricity usage, when problems easily arise. Almost daily, someone checks.
Around ten at night, Lynch hadn't seen the informer show up; he was preparing to leave. At that moment, a sneaky shadow crept from the back of the community.
The informer had wanted to come for a while, but the problem was he was stopped outside. Given his cheap clothing and reeking of alcohol, he certainly couldn't be a resident here, and the Security Guard responsibly barred him.
Considering the periodic Security Guard patrols, coupled with drinking for boldness at night, the informer dozed off in the roadside shrubbery while waiting for a chance.
If not awoken by the temperature and mosquitoes, he might have slept until morning.
With no chance to enter through the front gate, he circled to the rear.
There actually was a booth at the back gate with a small road directly to the main road. Yet, as this path was at the back and people were used to entering from the front, this gate was closed.
Cars couldn't enter normally, and pedestrians couldn't either. But such lax measures didn't stop someone with hands and feet. The informer easily climbed over, waited for two patrols to pass, learned their intervals, and snuck near Michael's house.
At that point, the street lamps couldn't send light to anyone level with them due to the shades, concealing Lynch who stood atop the pole. In darkness, unless one draws very close, no one guesses there's someone hiding in the shadow.
Lynch watched the informer stealthily flip over a hedge about one point two meters tall, leaping into the yard, skulking a round along the house, trying each touchable window to open.
Maybe it was due to the safety or women's inherent carelessness, on the west side of the house, the informer joyfully found a window to open.
The window quietly pushed open without a sound. With a thrust, he squeezed his upper body through. Lynch saw all this but remained still, waiting.
Time passed slowly, the serene night sky shining with stars and silent beauty. In the darkness, Lynch's gaze stayed fixed on that house.
From the informer's entrance to now, almost ten minutes passed. Couldn't this idiot even manage such a small task?
After another minute or two, the second-floor light suddenly turned on. A shadow appeared behind the not-so-lightproof curtains, its curves suggesting a woman. It lingered at the window a while before disappearing.
A few seconds later, Lynch heard an exclamation!