Blackstone Code-Chapter 484: Everyone Has One Chance

In the study, the two men stared at each other. Mr. Simon was so focused on what was happening outside that he missed a crucial detail: for the first time, the butler met his gaze without looking away.
This was unthinkable in the past. The butler had never dared to look Mr. Simon in the eyes unless ordered to with a command like
look at me
. Only then would they share a brief moment of eye contact.
A direct gaze between two people of vastly different social classes was seen as a provocation from the lower class toward the upper class—something rarely seen, or at least not so openly, in places like the Federation or Gephra.
But in Nagaryll, such defiance was dangerous.
Some described class as a
wall
separating social strata in developed countries. If that was the case in the Federation, then in Nagaryll, class was the entire Eastern Ocean.
Everyone conformed to the behaviors expected of their class, because the cost of overstepping was unbearable for most.
But this time, that invisible barrier had been crossed—quietly.
Without any command, the butler looked him in the eye. It was abnormal, yet overshadowed by the even more abnormal changes in the environment.
“Yes, sir. A lot of locals have gathered outside. They seem to be trying to steal something. I’ve already instructed the gardener to guard the gate.”
Only then did Mr. Simon relax slightly. He used a tone of arrogance to mask his growing unease, much like someone telling a bad joke during a crisis to lighten the mood—useless, but reflexive.
“They’re just trying to steal something?”
“Filthy natives…”
“If anyone comes near, chase them away. If they refuse, give them some spare change. I don’t want them dirtying my lawn!”
The butler lowered his head, a faint, unreadable smile on his face. He no longer looked at the man he had served for half his life. “Understood, sir. Anything else?”
“Anything else?” Mr. Simon’s attention shifted back to the room. “I told you, I’m thirsty. Do I need to say it again?”
His temper flared suddenly, then just as quickly subsided. “That’s all. Go do something. Don’t just stand there!”
As he gestured impatiently for the butler to leave, he once again picked up the receiver. It was as silent as an awkward one-night stand—over before it even began, without a sound.
“Damn it!” He slammed the receiver back onto the base.
Meanwhile, the young master of the house was speaking to someone who didn’t belong there. The visitor wasn’t tall, but there was something striking about him—like a ray of light that instinctively drew goodwill.
“Time is running out. I’m not trying to pressure you, just stating the facts.”
“If you’ve noticed what’s happening outside, then you know—the storm has already formed. Another wealthy neighborhood was looted on my way here. Many foreigners have already…”
He shook his head, leaving the rest unsaid, but everyone knew what he meant. Both the young man and the butler felt a chill in their hearts.
“The dead foreigners are gone, but their wealth—houses, factories, and other assets—will be seized by the mayor or the provincial governor, depending on how much money is involved.”
“I can’t guarantee that the mob won’t come here next. You’ve seen the crowd growing. If someone takes the lead…” The young man’s tone turned serious. “Things will go downhill fast.”
The young master was still thinking, but the butler asked, “Even if our young master does what you ask, won’t the storm outside still come?”
Experienced and composed, the butler responded swiftly and precisely to sudden crises.
If merely switching masters could avoid disaster, then the proposed act held little value to them.
Besides, even if they ignored the young man’s demands, even if someone broke in and killed Mr. Simon, the butler didn’t believe the young master would lose his inheritance.
Everyone knew—he was Simon’s son.
The radiant young man smiled. “No, you don’t understand. It’s not just foreigners. Anyone associated with them is at risk. Everything is out of control now.”
“Most importantly, if you go through with it, we’ll protect you. If you don’t, we won’t do anything.”
The young master finally spoke. “Is this a threat?”
The young man shook his head. “No, this is sincerity—cooperation, honestly stated. Sorry if it’s blunt. To put it simply, if Mr. Simon doesn’t die, you don’t have inheritance rights. Everything still belongs to foreigners.”
“And we won’t protect foreign assets. Those things were ours to begin with—taken through deceit and force.”
“As for what the butler said…” He shook his head again. “In chaos, no one knows what will happen. Some of the people fueling this chaos might do something on purpose. Who knows?”
The young master’s expression grew more solemn. He continued the young man’s line of thought: “Killing an heir in the chaos, turning a fortune into unclaimed property—that gives local officials the perfect excuse to seize everything.”
Then he asked, “What happened to the police?”
He had gone out earlier when the unrest began. Strangely, the police who had been stationed outside were nowhere to be seen—not just here, but seemingly throughout the city.
This wasn’t an isolated incident. Through the conversation, he realized that since the moment a foreign tycoon had killed a maid, things had spiraled out of control. Everything showed signs of orchestration—perhaps the young man was right.
So he asked his final question: whose side were the police on?
The young man shook his head. “At the very least, not ours. That’s why we have to protect ourselves. If you follow through with the plan, you’ll be one of us, and we’ll protect you.”
The young master stood up, holding a tray with tea. “Thank you for giving me a chance. I want to give him a chance too. Fate should be fair.”
It was like he was convincing himself—or affirming a belief. He carried the tray toward the study. At first his steps were hesitant, uncertain. But with each stride, he grew more confident. He had made his decision.
The sudden knock on the door startled the already jittery Mr. Simon. “Who’s there?”
He raised his hunting rifle, thumbed back the hammer. If anything seemed suspicious, he was ready to shoot.
His morals wouldn’t let him trample the law like a native, but against an intruder in his own house—he would pull the trigger.
“It’s me. I brought your water, Father.”
The familiar voice brought Mr. Simon a rare sense of comfort. “Come in…”
He lowered the gun.
The young master was allowed into the room. It was a strange feeling for him. He glanced secretly at Mr. Simon—he no longer had that fearsome dominance. Now he looked like an old lion, with broken teeth, no longer frightening.The young man placed the tray on the coffee table, took out the items, and poured a glass of water for Mr. Simon.
Mr. Simon picked up the glass and took a sip, feeling slightly better. He asked casually, “What’s the situation outside?”
“It’s very dangerous. I heard some wealthy neighborhoods have already been looted. Those families were attacked—possibly killed.”
His tone was neither heavy nor relaxed, completely different from the timid way he used to speak. The change was subtle, and Mr. Simon didn’t notice it.
“It’s that serious…” Mr. Simon looked a bit dazed. He knew the situation was bad, but not to that extent.
The next moment, he grabbed the phone, but the continued silence only deepened his unease. He stood up and began pacing, muttering to himself.
The young man glanced briefly at the hunting rifle on the sofa, then turned his attention back to Mr. Simon. He said softly, “Father, while the chaos hasn’t reached us yet, let’s leave.”
“Leave?” Mr. Simon stopped abruptly and looked at the boy with a puzzled expression. “Go where?”
The young man responded with a hint of hope, “Anywhere. The Federation’s interference here is growing stronger. Have you heard? That man Lynch is now living in the governor’s residence. Even the governor has to accommodate him. You and the others can’t compete with him.”
“You used to tell me about the place you came from—how beautiful and peaceful it was. Maybe we could live there…” His eyes shone with a longing that no one else could understand. It was something that only happened in his imagination—and he had a secret.
In his dreams, he replaced the child who only existed in photographs. He became Mr. Simon’s favorite son. He wanted to replace that brother.
For reasons unknown, Mr. Simon’s mood suddenly shifted. He looked at the young man and said, “We’re not going anywhere. We’ll stay right here. We won’t leave this country.” He paused. “I’m no longer thirsty. You may leave now.”