Blackstone Code-Chapter 516: I Have My Own Way

When the mayor of Bentley walked out of the tunnel with Lynch, the entire stadium erupted in cheerful laughter. He had already heard the noise outside—he caught the commentators’ slightly snide remarks, and even the final fart joke.
Still, he showed no signs of displeasure. Instead, he laughed along with everyone. A person’s composure and vision determine whether they can have a broad mind. As a mayor, there was no need for him to quarrel with a few commentators.
If he had let himself get angry over some biting, yet not truly malicious, jokes, then that would say a lot about his limits. And someone like that wouldn’t stay in office long—he’d retire early with high blood pressure.
Long-term anger raises blood pressure and can become a lifelong burden.
Commentator One: “Who’s that young guy next to him? His son? Or maybe a nephew?”
Commentator Three: “Looks like Lynch. You know, the youth leader. He’s been getting a lot of media attention this year.”
Commentator Two suddenly interjected, “Because he’s rich. Rich people always have a way of making you feel like they’re right…” He paused. “This is getting heavy. I almost forgot—we’re supposed to be on their side, right? We’re getting paid, aren’t we, guys?”
That timely bit of self-deprecation and deflection pulled the moment back from the edge. The other two commentators breathed a sigh of relief—one of them had almost messed everything up.
As federal citizens, everyone knows you can offend anyone, even the president. You can call him an idiot to his face, and no judge would arrest you for speaking the truth.
But insult a capitalist—a rich person—and even a small smirk on their part can unleash an army of lawyers ready to play a long, painful game of
spot the offense
.
Even something trivial like a slightly crooked parking job can land you in court. Winning the case might not be hard, but the legal fees alone can ruin someone.
Targeting Lynch was a bad move—especially now, when his popularity was high. The media doesn’t just hand out titles like
Youth Leader
to anyone. Even if Lynch had paid them handsomely, he still had to earn it.
Fortunately, Commentator Two realized this just in time. Lynch wasn’t someone you could casually joke about. Politicians might hold back for their public image, but capitalists don’t have to.
After that, he looked at Commentator Three. “Didn’t you study lip reading?”
The laughter from older fans in the stadium suddenly grew louder, confusing many in the crowd who couldn’t see what was so funny.
Only real fans knew the inside joke: in contact sports like football, the confrontation is direct and raw. Players often talk on the field, but no one knows what they’re saying.
To improve the commentary and entertainment value, Commentator Three had learned lip reading and started using it live.
At first, players didn’t know and would curse freely. Commentator Three would then
translate
them word for word, teaming up with Commentator One’s formal tone and Commentator Two’s sharp sarcasm for a hilarious effect.
It’s said the Pro Football League even gave them an award for helping
clean up
vulgarity on the field. Ever since Commentator Three mastered lip reading, players had toned down the profanity. A win-win.
Commentator Three knew this was a setup—to make it look like they were
decoding
Lynch’s words while naturally aligning themselves with him.
It’s like watching two people argue face-to-face. If one yells,
You’re an idiot!
and a bystander repeats it, that bystander is clearly taking sides.
This was a clever way to realign positions, and Commentator Three was quick on the uptake. “Of course. Mr. Lynch just said,
I heard you handed out a lot of free tickets
.”
The stadium director cut to a close-up of Mayor Bentley. He looked momentarily confused, then laughed and waved, inviting Lynch to sit down.
The crowd exploded with laughter. That’s when people realized that some of the puzzled spectators around them were actually there on free tickets—no wonder they seemed so out of place.
Commentator Two let out a breath of relief and gave Commentator Three a thumbs up. Then he leaned into his role again: “You should’ve bleeped that! You’re not supposed to tell the truth!”
Commentator Three apologized earnestly, “Sorry, I finished too fast!”
Before the game even started, the three commentators had turned the stadium into a live comedy show. Lynch found it amusing. “These guys are funny. If they had their own talk show, I’d watch. I like their sharp tongues.”
Mayor Bentley chuckled but didn’t think much of it. The federation already had plenty of talk shows—raunchy ones, intellectual ones, political ones, satirical ones… There was no shortage.
Every year, dozens of excellent new shows emerged. These three weren’t necessarily any better than others.
Of course, maybe he was just biased—after all, they had poked fun at him earlier.
“People in Bentley aren’t really into sports. It’s a bit embarrassing. Even as the mayor, I feel pretty disconnected from the whole fashion scene.” He didn’t respond to Lynch’s question directly, but rather to the earlier one about the free tickets.
“I hope that by investing more in sports, I can steer people back onto the right path. It’s something I’ve felt ashamed about—not knowing how to tackle the problem until now. I’m just starting to get some ideas…”
What he was ashamed of was Bentley’s reputation as the “Gay Capital” of the Federation. Some exaggerated claims even said half of the country’s gay population lived there.
The reason? Fashion.
The fashion industry is dominated by women, whether men like it or not. People would rather see beautiful women on runways than rough-looking men.
This led to more prominent female figures in fashion, along with a surge of feminism. As a result, except for the few men at the top, most of the male workers in the industry served the middle-tier women—and lived in awkward positions.
Men and women are almost like different species. To survive in such an environment, some men started labeling themselves as gay—more feminine in dress and personality, mimicking women in every way. Some even outdid real women.
This blurred the lines between genders and turned Bentley into a mecca for the LGBTQ community.
There had always been talk of change, but doing so was tricky. To completely reject decades or centuries of fashion culture might turn the city into a wasteland.
The mayor saw promise in the rising popularity of sports. Masculine, intense, and powerful athletic events might spark a renewed admiration for masculinity—and possibly help reestablish clearer gender lines.
Whether it would work was anyone’s guess, but it was worth a shot.
To draw in those uninterested in sports, the mayor distributed free tickets to bars and venues frequented by the LGBTQ community and hinted to owners that not giving them away might result in shutdowns.
If people knew, this game could probably set a world record—maybe for
Most LGBTQ Spectators at a Public Event
or
Largest LGBTQ Audience at a Preseason Football Game
. No one could top that.
At the referee’s whistle, the game began. From the start, Lynch’s team—the Interstellar Club—dominated the field. Within the first ten minutes, their opponents were already calling for a substitution.
During the switch, one player even asked their coach if he owed the other team money—why else would they play like maniacs?
Force goes both ways. If you slam into someone, you also absorb the impact. The opposing team thought Interstellar Club had lost their minds. Did they not care about their own bodies?
This was a professional match—every minute on the field meant more money.
Even after resuming play, the Interstellar Club maintained total control. Experts might have found the game dull, but casual fans thought it was insanely entertaining. Some gay spectators even took off their shirts in the cold to catch the players’ attention.
Maybe, in its own way, this would help with Bentley’s
gay problem
.
Once people are fully engaged, the game seems to fly by. When the referee blew the final whistle, the entire stadium erupted in celebration—whether they understood the game or not.