Blackstone Code-Chapter 508: You Must Obey

The lawyer sighed slightly as he looked at his distraught client, expressing his regret over the loss of a life. Softly, he said, “Madam, I’ve reminded you before that putting a collar and leash on your beloved dog wouldn’t make it sad…”
He had warned the mother and son multiple times before they arrived.
This was not their country, and people here were unfamiliar with this particular small ornamental dog breed.
In a backward and ignorant society, anything that’s not human can be seen as food. In some extreme situations, even humans might be considered prey. So, putting a leash on a dog is not about restricting its freedom but about protecting it.
However, the lady disagreed, believing that true love means giving the dog freedom; only a free dog is a happy dog. She even insisted the lawyer treat the dog like a person, not just an animal.
Now that this issue was settled, the lawyer felt a bit amused inside.
Yet maintaining his professionalism, he wore a look of sympathy. “The past is over. What matters now is how you can wrest your husband’s inheritance from that illegitimate son.”
“If you get that money, you can find ten or even a hundred similar dogs to fill the void left by the one you lost.”
Something in this struck a chord with Simon’s wife. Her expression shifted, and her gaze focused. “You’re right. I should’ve listened to you earlier—you’re the professional. So, what do we do now?”
The lawyer quickly slipped into his role. “I found out that before Mr. Simon passed away, he had some connection with Mr. Lynch. Lynch is one of the shareholders of the Nagaryll Joint Development Company and is in full charge of commercial cooperation and development in the Mongwu province.”
“He’s very close with the provincial governor. Some even say he wields power almost equal to the governor’s. If we can persuade Mr. Lynch to side with us, that child will have no chance.”
Simon’s son, sitting nearby, repeated, “Mr. Lynch?”
He hadn’t heard of the name. Their country had little international connection with Nagaryll or the federation. Lynch ranked low among the shareholders of the Joint Development Company.
In international business development involving nations as units, Lynch’s small company wasn’t well-known and wouldn’t be prominently mentioned.
Media from other countries typically focus on the top financial groups, ignoring the less influential shareholders.
So it was normal he didn’t know Lynch.
The lawyer nodded. “Mr. Lynch is quite unique and very young.”
“Young?” Simon’s son echoed. “Younger than me?”
He laughed, shaking his head. “Just kidding. How old is he, in his thirties or forties?”
To him, someone managing commercial development of an entire province must be at least in their forties. Thirty sounded too young!
He was just in his early thirties himself and successful but didn’t think he could handle such a big responsibility. So Lynch must be over forty.
The lawyer saw the misunderstanding in his expression but had to clarify to avoid greater confusion in any upcoming meeting. “Mr. Lynch just recently celebrated his twenty-second birthday!”
The room fell silent briefly. Then Simon’s wife looked shocked, asking in disbelief, “How much money does he have? Ten million Gael?”
The lawyer chuckled dryly. These people were something else. He had underestimated his clients’ social level but, considering his commission, tried to explain. “It’s hard to count, but at least in the tens of millions. He monopolizes commercial development and activities in one province. His assets will rapidly multiply many times over the next decade.”
The lawyer himself was impressed. Nagaryll used to be modest; monopolies were limited. But this time it was different.
The entire federation seemed madly focused on developing Nagaryll’s economy and industry. Their frantic worker recruitment showed how the lower classes were growing wealthy fast.
This newfound wealth would fuel market demand. People would spend more on better food, furniture, and more. Federation merchants would make far more profit here than Simon and his circle.
“He must have a good father. That’s one thing he’s luckier than me,” Simon’s son said, still refusing to admit someone else’s superiority. Despite half the money Simon sent home having gone to cover company losses.
He still believed only he was outstanding—starting his own company in his twenties and running it independently.
Lynch’s success must come from his family, his father’s connections—like being the CEO of some major conglomerate.
Simon’s son envied this deeply. If only he had such a wealthy father, he wouldn’t have ended up in this cursed poor place, being pushed out by a native.
He didn’t know his imagined powerful CEO was at that moment gathering dust not far away in a cement factory.
The lawyer frowned. Although he had little relation with Lynch, he knew businessmen of that level could strike across borders against rivals.
They only needed to back powerful opponents to those who offended them—and could even profit from it. Even lawyers hated facing luxury legal teams.
To prevent these foolish mother and son from messing up the plan, his tone grew firmer. “Mr. Lynch comes from an ordinary, even lower-class background. His achievements are all thanks to his effort. If you want to leave here alive with your father’s inheritance, you must constantly show respect to Mr. Lynch.”
He emphasized, “I’m not joking!”
The lawyer dealt with many people and matters daily, far more than this socially limited mother and son. He knew that companies like the Joint Development Company were extremely dangerous at this time.
In Nagaryll alone, countless people would kill for a hundred Gael. Money was never a shortage for the wealthy. If they wanted someone dead, killers would line up from the hotel to the docks, leaving no chance to escape.
After the warning, the lawyer adjusted his tie and softened his voice. “I say this only because I don’t want unnecessary trouble to interfere with our plan. Think about the money Mr. Simon left you—you should know what to do.”
“Rest well tonight. Tomorrow I’ll try to arrange a meeting with Mr. Lynch.”
“And don’t leave the hotel. It’s too dangerous for you out there.”
After speaking, the lawyer left with his documents to contact local connections. His profession still had some value and use in civilized society. Perhaps he could secure better protection for his commission.
As he exited the hotel lobby, a drunken man reeking of alcohol came toward him. To avoid him, the lawyer stepped aside and glanced at the man.
Few here drank to such excess now. The “foreigners” he mentioned were busy networking and making money, while locals lacked money even to get drunk.
The drunk looked at the lawyer, and their eyes met briefly. The lawyer froze, forced a smile, and nodded in greeting.
He quickly looked away, sensing something terrifying in the local’s eyes—a familiar yet unplaceable feeling.
The drunk seemed surprised but soon averted his gaze.
Once outside, sitting in the car as it started and pulled away, the lawyer suddenly realized—the gaze belonged to a killer. He had defended multiple murderers before; the drunk’s eyes matched theirs almost exactly.
There was a cold arrogance in his eyes, one that seemed to hold power over life and death, mixed with a barely contained impulse that sent chills down the spine.
Could something happen?
He thought about it and figured probably not. He had already warned the mother and son, and they were still inside the hotel—a very secure place.
Hotels catering to foreigners always had unique security measures. Some even had certain diplomatic privileges and armed forces. If the drunk truly intended to find that mother and son, he’d have to search every room—and he wouldn’t be able to.
Besides, if he started searching room by room, the hotel guards would likely shoot him on the spot.
The lawyer leaned toward the idea that this local murderer was hiding somewhere inside the hotel. He might have a special status—having killed someone outside and now sheltering here to avoid the police.
That seemed more likely.
He had, however, overestimated his influence on the mother and son and underestimated how fearless some people could be.