Illegal Immigrants Have No One to Protect Them

"Quiet! Shut your mouths—all of you! You! Don Quixote Cervantes! Stand right there and don't move!"

A burly white foreman, easily twice as wide as Don Quixote, shouted through a megaphone.

Afterward, he shouted it again in Spanish.

"Leto!" Don Quixote refused to back down. "Why are our wages being delayed by a week? Do you know we all have credit cards to pay off? We all have rent to pay!"

"Listen, all right? This wasn't my decision!"

Leto irritably waved the walkie-talkie in his hand, the megaphone making the people around him's eardrums ache.

"The company's financial system was hacked. The corporate accounts and payment gateway are both locked down, so there's no way to issue payments this week!" he shouted. "You'll get your back pay next week! Now, everyone get back to work!"

After he repeated it in Spanish, furious curses erupted from the crowd. Several workers from Latin America and Mexico clenched their fists, but seeing the private security guards among the crowd with batons at their waists, they hesitated.

"Murder!"

Don Quixote said.

"What did you say?!"

"Murder! You heard me," Don Quixote shouted, pointing at Leto. "Can't you see what kind of people are standing in front of you? We're living, breathing people! In this damned, people-eating New York, in this damned Queens, whose refrigerator has enough food for a whole week? Who can afford next week's rent?"

A Mexican worker in his thirties beside him tugged at Don Quixote's sleeve. "Don, you're moving out soon. You don't need to worry about us—"

"We get paid weekly! Our lives run in seven-day cycles!" Don Quixote suddenly turned and shook off the worker's hand, continuing to roar recklessly. "If they don't get paid today, their landlords will throw them out tomorrow. That same night, they'll have to line up for that damned food relief line stretching three blocks, just to get stale, expired bread!"

"How are people supposed to live like that?! Should they go rob someone? Sell their blood again? Or send their wives out onto the streets?" he said. "If you don't pay them today, will even half of them still be here to collect their wages next week?"

"That's none of our company's concern," Leto said stiffly. "I told you, the accounts were hacked! With people taking leave, missing work, and working overtime, there's no way to sort out the numbers. I can't pay you."

When Li Wei had met Don Quixote, Don Quixote had at least been doing relatively well. He had desperately rented a basement on a monthly basis, largely because he was a top student at the University of Chicago and understood how terrifyingly large a snowball interest and compound interest could become.

Most workers like him, however, had been soaked in happy education since childhood and were barely literate. They could only see what was right in front of them.

Weekly rental housing, weekly paychecks... all kinds of bizarre bills.

The lives of people paid weekly were balanced on an extremely fragile point. One straw was all it took to make that balance collapse.

For example, a delayed paycheck could very likely leave them unable to pay next week's rent and get them thrown out. Then they would sleep under bridges or in subway stations, be driven away or beaten by homeless people or gangs, have their belongings stolen, and rapidly worsen because medical care was difficult to access.

Even if they received their wages the following week, it would be hard for their lives to return to their previous balance.

Don Quixote was furious, and the workers behind him also began shouting and cursing angrily.

Opposite them, the private security guards hired by the construction company silently stepped forward, swinging their batons.

Just as Li Wei was about to step forward and stand beside Don Quixote, a ding sounded in his mind again:

[You have received a mission: Aid the Weak and Defeat the Strong]

[A knight must possess a just heart that perceives the truth. Assist the knight Don Quixote in uncovering the truth, help the workers resolve their immediate problem, and drive out the greedy.]

[Mission reward: Free attribute point +0.1]

Li Wei pursed his lips, looked at the furious workers and the numerous security guards, thought for a moment, then pushed through the crowd and walked forward.

He patted Don Quixote on the shoulder, telling him to calm down.

Don Quixote had just clenched his teeth and prepared to step forward. When he turned around and saw Li Wei's face, he froze in surprise. "You... why are you here?"

"You didn't answer when I called," Li Wei said, waving his phone. "I came to see what you were doing."

"We'll talk about moving later." Don Quixote tried to shield Li Wei behind him. "Leave first—"

Li Wei pushed aside Don Quixote's arm. "Uncle, let me talk to him."

Don Quixote looked at the fierce-looking Leto, then at the well-proportioned Li Wei, and without another word dragged him behind himself.

He shoved hard, only to find that Li Wei's body was rooted to the ground like a load-bearing wall. Even using all his strength, he could not move him.

"It's fine," Li Wei said. "Let me handle it."

Since the system had said that Leto was a greedy man, Li Wei's [Eloquent Speaker] would most likely work on him.

And if Leto refused to listen, Li Wei happened to have plenty of strength.

"Mr. Leto," Li Wei said, "I'm speaking on Don Quixote's behalf. Could we talk in private?"

Leto frowned as he sized Li Wei up.

Li Wei's appearance, bearing, and manner of speaking were completely out of place at this construction site reeking of sweat and dust, and it made Leto feel inexplicably uneasy.

He waved a hand, signaling the guards to move aside, then led Li Wei into the metal prefab shack nearby.

Don Quixote wanted to go inside with Li Wei, but the guard at the door stopped him.

The moment they entered, Leto said, "Kid, I don't care who you are, but the system really is down! No one is getting paid this week."

Li Wei coughed twice, and [Eloquent Speaker] activated on his attribute panel.

"Mr. Leto," Li Wei said, "I think the wages will have to be paid eventually. Otherwise, those workers won't survive. You don't want that either, do you?"

Leto's expression suddenly went blank, and his tone became slow and heavy.

[Eloquent Speaker] had taken effect.

"No," he said slowly. "I want them to be unable to come collect the money."

Li Wei paused. He had not expected Leto to give such an answer.

"Why?" he pressed. "What benefit does losing workers bring to a construction company?"

"They're just workers, like cockroaches in a sewer," Leto sneered. "New York has so many legal and illegal immigrants, so much labor. Everyone wants to come to America, wants to come to New York. If they don't come tomorrow, we'll just recruit another batch. Plenty of them are illegal immigrants, or don't have work permits and aren't allowed to work in construction at all. Even if we withhold their money, no one will care."

"Who would care? The union? Immigration?" he said. "Besides, the company's system really was hacked some time ago. It still hasn't been fixed."

Li Wei thought for a moment and came up with a way to slightly distort Leto's perception.

Don Quixote waited anxiously outside the door, his mind constantly imagining all kinds of terrible scenarios.

He suddenly hated himself for letting Li Wei be alone with Leto. Leto often found excuses to dock his pay, and Don Quixote knew Leto's character all too well.

"Don, listen to me," the older worker from earlier quietly came over and spoke in a low voice. "There aren't many guards here. Should we get a few people together and—"

He pointed at the metal shack.

"No, Jose," Don Quixote said with a frown. "What if my nephew gets hurt?"

"No matter what," Jose said through gritted teeth, "I have to get the money today. My wife's baby is almost due. She can't keep going out to see clients, or she'll miscarry."