Blackstone Code-Chapter 487: All Voluntary, Genuine Kindness from the Heart, a Face Toward the Light, Radiant Like an Angel

At that moment, the police chief returned from outside. His face was stern, and the sound of his footsteps once again drew everyone’s attention.
After forcing a rather unpleasant smile, he walked over to the Governor and whispered a on the situation outside.
Things outside were indeed worsening. In just a short time, the unrest had escalated far beyond what they previously knew. More people had been swept up in this sudden wave of madness.
Even the underclass from outside the city had begun pouring in. Not only were foreign-linked businesses being looted and destroyed, but now even the local elite’s shops were being attacked, ransacked, and set ablaze. The situation was rapidly spiraling out of control—truly out of control.
Just moments ago, a group armed with clubs attempted to storm the Governor’s Mansion. When they were stopped by the outermost line of police, these people—who had never before resisted—actually turned their weapons on the officers.
The police stationed there were completely stunned and failed to react, getting beaten to the ground by the mob.
Some officers were left bloodied and unconscious. Others went missing—whether they had fled, mingled with the crowd, or met some other fate was unclear.
The rioters then encountered the second layer of defense—Lynch’s men and the Governor’s own armed guards.
And yet, even when facing armed defenders, the rioters charged forward, perhaps thinking the guards wouldn’t actually fire. And indeed, they didn’t.
None of the Governor’s guards fired a shot. In fact, they kept retreating, giving the rioters space and emboldening them further.
Fortunately, Lynch’s men fired decisively. After repelling one wave of the attack, the mob left behind over a dozen corpses and quickly dispersed like receding tides.
They gained nothing, but also lost nothing—those who died were barely considered a loss, and the living moved on.
These people were loosely organized, with no real ties to one another.
What truly darkened the police chief’s face was that several officers had lost their guns—around seven or eight pistols.
Now, those pistols were in the hands of the mob, and the consequences could be catastrophic.
The Governor glared at him and muttered a few words—essentially ordering him to recover the weapons at all costs.
Nagaryll did not ban civilian ownership of firearms. In this peculiar land, wild animal attacks were frequent—some due to migration mishaps, others simply driven by curiosity about humans as prey.
So while civilian gun ownership was allowed, handguns and other concealable firearms were strictly forbidden.
Owning a hunting rifle was legal. But a handgun? That was a crime.
Because their concealability posed a terrifying threat to those in power—no one could know if someone in a crowd might suddenly pull out a pistol and open fire. Nagaryll’s tropical climate made it impossible to hide a long gun.
Acting on the Governor’s orders, the police chief then informed everyone present of the grim development.
While the others reacted with visible alarm, Lynch remained expressionless and composed, like someone utterly unaffected by external events.
In fact, people from the Federation understood the dangers of handguns all too well. In the Federation, one could walk into any gun shop with a Social Security number and buy beautifully crafted hunting rifles—but not handguns. Their sale and purchase were strictly regulated because of the inherent risk they posed.
At least, those who had handguns wouldn’t use them to rob the poor—they would only target the wealthy.
As the room buzzed with nervous whispers, Lynch raised a calming hand. “Relax, ladies and gentlemen. There’s no need to worry about this…”
He once again drew everyone’s gaze and gently shook his head. “Sergeant!”
A moment later, a fully armed soldier walked in. His presence immediately brought a sense of security.
There was something reassuring about him—his professional gear, the uniform often mistaken for Federal Army attire, his weapon, and helmet. The noisy room quickly fell silent.
Some even whispered, wondering if he had been sent by the Federation military, given Lynch’s rumored connections.
“I know the news just now was unsettling, but don’t worry. Before coming here, I had already anticipated the possibilities.”
“Disease…”
“Sanitation issues…”
“Dietary incompatibilities…”
“And—” he raised a finger, “—unrest!”
“As it turns out, my preparations were not in vain. This sergeant is now providing us with the highest level of professional security. I also want to recommend his company to all of you—Blackstone Security. It works closely with the Department of Defense, the military, and even the President’s office.”
“They’ve taken on more than one international security operation, and to date, they have a 100% success rate!”
Hearing this, the sergeant straightened his already rigid posture even more. No one needed to know that Blackstone Security’s only international mission so far was protecting Lynch—and Lynch was the company’s owner.
Still, the claim wasn’t false. The sergeant stared straight at the ceiling, silently thinking:
This is why Lynch is the boss and I’m just a sergeant
.
Amid the murmurs of awe, all eyes turned to the sergeant.
“This time, we’ve brought a 1,500-strong team to ensure that our partners in Nagaryll can conduct their business legally and without threats to their lives or property.”
“So I’m not the least bit worried about the unrest outside. With Blackstone Security’s protection, I can sleep peacefully—even on a chaotic night.”
By this point, Lynch had laid out all the key points. The man who had earlier donated five thousand glanced at him in confusion and muttered, “We?”
It was more like a subconscious repetition, like someone reading a profound sentence aloud and stumbling upon a new realization.
Lynch caught it and nodded. “Yes, I said
we
. And I won’t hide this from you—I am the Chairman of the Board of Blackstone Security. As for you, because of your generosity and compassion, you’ll be the first to receive our protection.”
“You, your companions, and your local assets—all of it will be rigorously protected.”
“We have an agreement with the Department of Defense: if the lives and property of overseas citizens are under mortal threat, we have the right to shoot first.” Lynch’s voice stirred pride and even a bit of patriotic fervor.
The strength of a nation is first reflected in the experiences of its international businessmen. A strong nation allows its citizens to make bold demands of local officials in foreign lands—something they could never enjoy at home.
After a few seconds of silence, someone raised a check. “Mr. Lynch, on behalf of the Real Estate Development Company, I donate ten thousand Federal Sols to aid the victims in Nagaryll!”
Lynch shook his hand with a bright smile. “Of course. Your kindness has earned you a place. I will personally ensure your protection is arranged first…”
If anyone still didn’t understand by this point, then they deserved whatever danger they might encounter after leaving.