Blackstone Code-Chapter 471: No Loss-Making Business Here

Lately, Lime had been trying hard to adapt to his role. He was actually doing well, but he didn’t think so.
A few months ago, he was still struggling at the bottom in Eminence, making a living by selling small, unsellable items.
He had witnessed many upheavals in the industry—most times, when he had to bear the brunt, there was nothing left but foam. Still, he had seen a lot.
He could recount most major events in detail to anyone.
He always believed he would succeed one day, but when that day finally came, he felt out of place.
Everyone he met was better than him—their tone, their thinking, their subtle gestures. These things couldn’t be learned just by watching.
If you couldn’t grasp their arrogance’s essence, you were just a clown. He had tried hard but felt it wasn’t enough because he had a role model—Lynch.
Lynch’s story was legendary—a living miracle who inspired others. He rose from an ordinary person to success, outperforming everyone. People like Lime looked up to him, following his footsteps.
“Traffic, yes, local traffic is a big problem…” Lynch took less than five seconds to steer the conversation back.
But this time, the one leading the topic wasn’t the overwhelmed Lime.
“When we arrived at the hotel, everyone saw it—traffic in Nagaryll is a serious problem. Without solving it, this region and even the whole country can’t develop.”
“That’s why I’m investing here. Of course, don’t misunderstand—I’m not a philanthropist, just a businessman wanting to make money. Nothing shameful about that, right?”
Lynch’s unique humor and style amused everyone. They laughed and agreed, “Of course not, Mr. Lynch. Making money is what we want.”
Lynch pointed to the speaker and shook his hand, “Exactly. Making money isn’t shameful. Our purpose here, unlike some clueless fools back home say, is to contribute.”
“We’re here to make money—and big money!”
“Railways are a very worthwhile investment. I’m sure you all understand that; otherwise, you wouldn’t be paying attention.”
Everyone nodded. They were interested because they knew some insider details about railways.
“We plan to build a comprehensive railway network throughout the Magulana province. Whether for cargo or passenger transport, the province will rely on this infrastructure.”
“With the upcoming major development, the more people use the railways, the more profit we generate.”
Lynch’s voice carried conviction. “Here, we hold the sole legal rights to build and operate railways. Gentlemen, we all know which business is the most profitable, don’t we?”
His smile hinted at a monopoly.
It might not be nationwide, but having exclusivity in a province was no small feat.
Several investors quietly exchanged opinions. Lynch glanced at Lime, who met his gaze briefly before looking away.
Lime’s eyes showed respect and admiration—a feeling Lynch knew well, having once looked at someone that way himself.
Learning brings joy—and wealth.
“Mr. Lynch, we’re not worried about the railway company’s dominance here. We’re concerned the returns might not be as high as expected, and if the wait is too long…” said a man in his sixties, smiling as he glanced around, then back at Lynch. “That doesn’t fit our investment philosophy.”
Beyond return rates, investors care about the speed and timeline of returns. Banks can invest in agriculture with long-term returns and remain patient. Ordinary investors want fast, effective returns.
Lime had been troubled by such questions, but Lynch was not.
“Gentlemen, many focus only on industrial growth when discussing railways.”
“They consider how many factories might invest around the railway and whether freight transport will be profitable. But they, including you, seem to overlook another issue…”
Lynch took a glass of wine from a passing waiter and sipped it, teasing them.
All eyes locked on him, silently urging him to drink faster but maintain respect. Lynch enjoyed the playful tension—it made life interesting.
After wiping his mouth, he smiled and finished, “You’re overlooking the local population, gentlemen.”
“Nagaryll officially has 200 million people, according to the central government. But I don’t believe that’s accurate.”
“Outside the urban areas, many people—called outcasts—aren’t counted in official statistics. They are numerous. I believe Nagaryll’s true population could be 300 million or more.”
“Now, consider this—if each person spends just one Sol per year on rail transport, that’s a 300 million Sol market…”
Lynch dropped a giant opportunity, and their expressions changed instantly.
He was right. Before this, they only considered benefits from companies using railways.
They hadn’t thought about the population’s transport demand. Railways rarely lose money; it’s just about how long it takes to recoup investment.
They were interested but cautious, worried returns might come too slowly.
Lynch’s words opened their eyes to a bright future.
They’d never thought of this before—how much could a single passenger ticket really bring compared to a freight car’s fees?
Before they could fully react to the “300 million a year” figure, Lynch moderated it for credibility.
“Even if not everyone rides our trains, Magulana province alone has over ten million people. That’s still a huge market. Add industrial freight…”
Lynch chuckled softly, “That’s a business that could double every one of your fortunes!”
Scaling down to one-thirtieth still meant tempting profits. Railways don’t have as high maintenance costs here as in the Federation because local labor is cheap. Steel is the main cost.
Once exploration finds iron ore and steel production is solved, steel won’t be an issue. Maintenance costs will be almost nothing.
What remains is pure profit.
The man in his sixties couldn’t help but ask, “Mr. Lynch, we understand everything you said—it’s very tempting. But I have one last question: how do we ensure that people take the train at least once a year?”
Others also turned their attention to Lynch’s answer, eager to know how to get everyone to ride the train.
Lynch smiled confidently and said, “Simply give most of them a job away from home every year!”
The men around Lynch were momentarily stunned, then burst into laughter.
“So that’s it, Mr. Lynch! Your thinking and approach are amazing. No wonder people call you the new generation’s youth leader—I believe it now!” The investor in his sixties praised Lynch highly, even using formal respect.
What seemed complicated to them was just one sentence for Lynch.
Yes, it was that simple: give people jobs away from home. They’ll definitely return at least once a year. If the distance is far enough that walking isn’t an option, they’ll have to take the train.
And this wasn’t just talk. Capitalists hiring workers were happy to use this method.
Although the Federation lacked a saying as insightful as “people away from home are cheap labor,” it had similar proverbs—hiring non-local workers was more stable, avoiding conflicts with local labor unions or clan powers.
Even if not everyone left to work elsewhere, shrinking the number tenfold to three million, then halving it to 1.5 million—
If 1.5 million people worked away from home, each buying two tickets annually for coming and going, that alone would generate at least three million in gross profit.
Adding other revenue streams, surpassing five million in gross profit annually was not a dream. Even with a 15% net margin, that was 700,000 to 800,000 in net profit. As Lynch’s plan to boost population mobility improved, profits would only increase.
The business would break even in a few years and then enter a profitable stage. This venture… seemed very lucrative!