Blackstone Code-Chapter 463: Then I Convince Myself

Faced with a question he had pondered for days, Mr. Herbes shared his view. “I believe Lynch has already built a position in the foreign exchange market, though I don’t know exactly how much. This fits his behavior and motives.”
“He’s not relying on the cash exchange rate fluctuations to profit; he’s using his foreign exchange accounts. With proper operations, he can earn just as much—and more stably.”
“He has a large amount of cash on hand and can do whatever he wants, including influencing exchange rate movements.”
Whether they agreed or not, attention soon shifted. Someone asked, “Mr. Herbes, you haven’t told us yet—how much does Lynch want to borrow?”
Herbes smiled slightly. “Ten billion Valier.”
Everyone in the room straightened slowly, gasping quietly, like fresh bamboo shoots shooting up overnight after the rain.
Suddenly, Lynch’s unusual actions made sense—they simply showed he didn’t have enough liquid funds.
Ten billion Valier equals roughly seventy to eighty million Federal Sols. Even a world-class tycoon couldn’t produce that much cash on short notice—not because they lack the wealth, but because pulling that much liquidity at once would disrupt normal operations.
If big corporations can’t do it, Lynch certainly can’t. That’s why he has to borrow instead of exchange.
With that question settled, expressions relaxed. Now they focused on what Lynch would offer as collateral and the interest terms.
“Lynch holds a batch of bonds. I’m not sure if you know about them,” Herbes briefly explained their origin and why Lynch had them.
Everyone admired Lynch’s sharp eye—he had bought these bonds when their value was at its lowest.
Even if he redeemed them now at 60% of face value without promised interest, the income would be around fifty to sixty million—a substantial amount, though realized over a long period.
The Royal Bank of Gephra had to stretch to provide such a sum, especially with several new military projects underway.
The rulers’ halls in Gephra and the Federal Congress were said to be among the world’s cleanest and most transparent places—no secret could hide. Meetings held in the morning were known worldwide by afternoon.
Even if they exchanged only small amounts of bonds annually for Lynch, it was still impressive income.
“If Lynch uses these bonds as collateral, I think that’s appropriate,” someone quickly agreed. Specific figures would be negotiated after their decision.
“What about interest, Mr. Herbes?”
At that moment, a flicker of greed and cunning flashed in Herbes’ eyes. He licked his lips and said, “When Lynch and I discussed the bond valuation, we had some disagreements. That led to a betting agreement I must explain.”
“I believed the bonds shouldn’t be valued at face value, but Lynch thought otherwise, and we each voiced our opinion.”
“In the end, I agreed to lend him money at face value,” he paused as someone tried to interrupt, raising his hand to stop them, then continued, “and we signed a betting agreement.”
“Before the loan contract is fully executed, if Gephra declares willingness to unconditionally redeem these bonds—at least those Lynch holds—then this loan will accrue no interest.”
There were quiet gasps; no one expected such a foolish condition. But then their shock turned louder.
“However, if after the loan contract is complete Gephra adopts no new policy for these bonds, then the bonds will be transferred to me—or us—as full interest!”
Breaths quickened. A group of vultures wasting no time weren’t here to discuss art—they were here for profit.
“All of them…?” The hesitant voice asked. “Bonds worth tens of millions of Federal Sols—all of them?”
Herbes nodded, confirming, “Yes, all bonds pledged to us become interest payment.”
Everyone’s expressions changed. If they had previously thought Herbes and Lynch’s deal was a strange game, now they understood why Herbes insisted on inviting them and discussing this project.
Everything else faded in importance. The key was this betting agreement: if successful, their returns would be at least 50% or more.
In an era where annual returns under 20% still earned the crown, a few months’ chance at 50%+ return was worth any risk.
If they lost, it was just interest lost—money sitting idle in their own banks won’t generate profits anyway. But if they bet wisely, sudden wealth was possible.
“I have about 700 to 800 million Valier in cash,” someone quickly calculated after the brief pause. “I’m in.”
By then, no one cared whether Lynch’s unusual moves had deeper meaning—this was a gamble that wouldn’t lose.
If they won, they’d be free from profit pressure for two or three years.
If they lost, it was just lending money for a time, and they’d still profit from exchange rate gains—a no-risk, guaranteed-win deal. Why not?
Why are there fools in the world? Actually, no one is truly foolish. For Lynch to raise such a sum, he must pay a price—otherwise, who would lend him so much cash?
All the previously questionable points suddenly made sense, and excitement filled the room. Even the man who had complained about the stench smiled genuinely.
Later, good news reached Lynch: the cement plant was under construction, and he received a message from Mr. Truman—Preyton had been caught.
The news was uplifting, and surprisingly, Preyton not only didn’t resist but cooperated fully with the Security Committee, greatly improving Lynch’s chances of success for his upcoming plans.
Even if Preyton hadn’t been caught, it wouldn’t matter much—there were many
Preytons
inside the committee, and many associates had been arrested by the Federation.
They could reconnect through those channels.
And even if they couldn’t, other means could force the Emperor of Gephra to compromise. Politics never has only one path.
Of course, having Preyton cooperate personally made things smoother.
Two pieces of good news at once lifted Lynch’s spirits, making even Herbes’ old face more agreeable.
“I can raise about 8 to 9 billion Valier in cash, but more than that would be difficult,” Herbes said bluntly, no secrets about the numbers. “You’re investing heavily here; nearby countries are watching.”
To some, the Federation’s development of Nagaryll seemed like plunder; to others, they envied Nagaryll for being plundered.
Sometimes reality shocks you, yet it’s true.
Valier used to be worthless—no one wanted it. Except for trade with Nagaryll, almost no one held this valueless currency.
But now, it’s stabilized with upward potential. Banks once eager to sell now say they don’t have enough funds. Herbes thought he could raise 10 billion Valier but now saw he couldn’t.
Although short of 10 billion, it was close enough. Lynch nodded. “The transaction will be in the Federation. No problem?”
Because banks hadn’t stocked enough Valier, Lynch’s cash needs couldn’t be met through interbank transfers by just increasing numbers in his account. It had to be a cash transaction.
Lynch’s demand increased risk, but for these international bankers, it was manageable.
They had their own armed forces but often sent batches of money to the Federation—this was something they did regularly.
“Now, let’s discuss the next steps…”
This negotiation was only a rough outline of the contract. More detailed discussions would happen at their next meeting.
Meanwhile, Herbes and his team needed time to raise the funds.
The money wasn’t stored in one place; it might be spread across several locations or held by different people. They needed to gather it, consolidate it, calculate a precise total, and determine how the shares would be divided internally.
If Lynch lost the betting contract, they would have to negotiate how the bonds were distributed—who gets more, who gets less.
Until these issues were settled, Mr. Herbes couldn’t discuss anything further with Lynch. This was just an update on the progress and a rough overview, nothing more.