Blackstone Code-Chapter 497: Advising You to Be Selfish

“How do I convince them?”
As the car moved forward, Governor Drag’s mindset shifted quickly. “There will definitely be resistance. Not everyone believes following the Federation is better.”
These governors had once been local emperors, but now were restricted by the Federation and the Joint Development Company. Psychologically, they still leaned toward opposing them.
Drag, like the others, wouldn’t want to follow the Federation or trail behind Lynch if there was a chance to expel the Federation or regain some autonomy.
Living at someone else’s mercy was nowhere near as comfortable as ruling as a local emperor.
But many things left no choice. He had accepted that. His only hope now was to survive the power transition safely and then quietly retire as a wealthy citizen of the Federation.
After all, as a Federation citizen, he would soon receive a generous pension, enough for a comfortable retirement…
Well, that was a joke. The wealth he was taking with him would let him squander till death. The thought of a simple life was just a prayer born of fear.
If he survived this disaster, even living as an ordinary man would be fine—but that was impossible. Survival meant adapting fully.
Lynch pursed his lips. “Tell them now is a good time to move assets. Before the Federation reacts, secure your escape route.”
Drag looked stunned. He didn’t understand if Lynch was bluntly telling the truth or hinting he already knew about the secret asset transfers.
This uncertainty made Drag uneasy, unsure how to respond. Was Lynch implying something?
Lynch glanced at him, a faint smile playing on his lips. “Don’t worry. You’re not the only one. Many privileged and ruling classes are transferring assets.”
This news came from Mr. Herbes, who was gathering large amounts of Valier cash for Lynch. Before the contract was signed, collecting more meant bigger gains if they won the bet contract, multiplying his investment.
Even a thousand Valier was valuable to him now, far from the millions he normally dismissed.
Coincidentally, Nagaryll’s rulers were quietly moving money abroad. As an international banker, money laundering and currency transfers were routine for Herbes, so he casually shared some of this with Lynch.
No secrets here. He had to explain why the amount he was collecting now differed from before, so if trouble arose, he could clear himself.
But poor Nagaryll rulers thought they were discreet, moving money overseas without anyone noticing. They didn’t realize the Federation had known for a long time.
Herbes’s massive cash movements drew attention from the Federation’s six major banks. To banks of that strength, Herbes could only comply; disappearing quietly wasn’t an option. He had to be transparent.
Once the six banks knew, the entire Joint Development Company knew, and naturally, the Presidential Office knew.
So many knew, yet the rulers themselves thought they were being secretive.
“Don’t worry. This is actually good. You can tell them at the meeting that raising Valier’s value will let them exchange their money for more foreign currency. If trouble comes, they’ll still live well abroad.”
“People should be selfish when it counts. Others’ happiness isn’t yours. Only when you’re happy can you truly be happy.”
Drag thought long and hard, then nodded. “I know what to say.”
Lynch nodded approvingly. “Looking forward to your good news…”
They fell silent. Lynch pondered other matters; Drag worked on how to phrase things smoothly.
After all, he was a Federation citizen secretly embedded in Nagaryll’s ruling class. He had to show loyalty to the Federation without exposing himself—a big challenge.
But, as always, those involved are the last to know the truth. He didn’t realize others were also bought by the Federation; selfishness wasn’t unique.
The car stopped slowly outside City Hall. After parting ways, Lynch’s convoy quickly left. The meeting was calm, but precautions remained.
Lynch was likely the last to arrive; others, including small merchants who couldn’t afford risk, had come early to get firsthand information and network.
The noisy meeting room buzzed with people sharing opinions, forming small groups around key topics—like a lively, leaderless salon.
Such an atmosphere was enviable, especially for scholars and experts who thrived by showcasing their strengths.
Suddenly, someone at the back stood and exclaimed, “Mr. Lynch has arrived!” like dropping a bomb, silencing everyone instantly.
The room fell quiet. Lynch smiled and greeted the man. Everyone seated stood up, regardless of age.
With respect and awe, they faced Lynch, lowering their heads and addressing him as
Mr. Lynch.
Walking among them, Lynch pulled out a cigarette. Several lighters were offered. Casually, he lit his cigarette and thanked them.
The lighter owners bowed, honored. No one found it excessive; it was normal.
It felt like walking on clouds, angels dancing alongside.
The heartfelt
Mr. Lynch
was the world’s finest greeting.
His smile spread, soothing some restless spirits.
“Gentlemen, what were you discussing?”
A group considering themselves higher status approached first as a social courtesy.
Those less confident remained, waiting for a second chance.
The most prominent men now surrounded Lynch, like ancient jesters seeking favor—though more restrained.
The eldest stood and said, “We were discussing possible actions by the mayor and local government, Mr. Lynch.”
Lynch nodded noncommittally. “After the unrest, City Hall must implement policies to calm and encourage. This is a good opportunity for us…”
Silence remained as all listened.
“If City Hall fails to effectively address investor panic, development and industrialization will be a farce.”
“I speak only for myself…” He smiled. “But maybe we’ll get a big surprise on taxes!”
The faces around showed surprise. When someone of Lynch’s stature mentioned a
big surprise,
it wasn’t about saving a trivial fifteen-point-three-five tax. It was something substantial.
For merchants—especially those from the Federation—two things had long been their biggest headaches, limiting their growth and profits.
The first was labor costs. They were simply too high.
The second was taxation.
If labor costs could be minimized and tax policies offered significant relief, it would be a celebration for merchants coming to Nagaryll.
Expressions grew lively and excited, shifting from previous anxiety to calm.
“And it’s probably more than that…” Lynch added.
As he flicked ash from his cigarette, someone cautiously asked, “Mr. Lynch, do you have any insider news?”
Insider news was both coveted and feared by merchants, especially in Eminence. Sometimes a single tip could easily sell for fifty thousand units.
But not all tips were accurate or valuable; credibility depended on the source.
Lynch didn’t deny this. Before these still-restrained capitalists began reckless expansion, he needed to establish his authoritative image. “I played a role in this. Local government officials value my opinions highly!”