Inviting Lynch to the show was host Ora’s own idea. She believed that by getting Lynch on the program and pushing him to break through his usually calm exterior, making him frustrated and angry, the ratings would rise significantly.
People had moved past idolizing role models. With economic decline and endless bad news, hope no longer grew in their hearts—only destruction.
The show’s purpose was to tap into that deep desire for destruction. Using Ora’s methods, it turned glamorous figures into clowns, gaining social attention and boosting her own influence.
These were real benefits—some directly convertible to wealth, like influence, endorsements, guest appearances, or expressing certain views on the show—all adding to her personal gains.
Countless companies eagerly poured money into advertising on her program. Every episode was a joyful harvest of wealth.
But Ora wasn’t satisfied with past guests; she wanted real heavyweights. After much consideration, she chose Lynch.
The reason was simple: Lynch had no impressive background—no famous family or connections, just an ordinary working-class kid with no backing.
What good was money without support?
Could he withstand an investigation by the tax bureau? Whenever Ora harshly mocked someone and noticed their uneasy glance, she’d casually mention the tax bureau, instantly silencing them. She knew no one could stand up to it.
This time would be no different. Lynch would surely show cracks in his image, maximizing Ora’s gains.
The director, however, had a different view. Ora and the production team had been riding high, largely because her background overshadowed previous guests.
If she invited someone unafraid of her influence, it could end in disaster.
Ora could afford to quit—she’d made enough money and had ample social influence. But what about the crew behind the scenes?
They’d be completely blacklisted, ruined for life.
That’s why he privately warned Lynch to be careful of Ora and her provocations.
Lynch was never stingy with gratitude toward those who helped him. He thanked the director but said he wasn’t worried—he’d seen it all before. He’d stood alone in a tiny cell surrounded by enemies, who questioned him angrily or sternly, but he always met them with a smile.
Compared to those threats and life-or-death questions, a showy host wouldn’t cause him much trouble.
Still, he thought he might need an assistant to handle these small matters.
Honestly, he hadn’t watched much of Ora 90 but had heard the show was famous. The high appearance fee and its reputation were why he agreed. Had he known Ora was difficult, he might have hesitated.
Time passed quickly, and the show began. At the director’s cue, Lynch walked from backstage to the stage and greeted the live audience.
Maybe because Lynch was the guest tonight, many people showed up. Some even stood due to lack of seats, exciting the staff—this was the first time attendance had been so high, with more still arriving.
Lynch greeted the enthusiastic crowd warmly, earning cheers in return.
Once seated on the sofa prepared for him, he finally took a serious look at the host.
Ora was a refined woman in her early thirties, like many female hosts—knowing how to highlight their charm without being trendy or outdated.
She looked about an eight out of ten—though how she looked without makeup was uncertain. For now, she was fine, with a decent figure.
Ora was no ordinary host. She started sharply: “Hello, Lynch.” He greeted her back, then she suddenly asked an unexpected question: “I noticed you’ve been looking at me since you sat down. Do you think I’m attractive?”
She provocatively showcased herself, prompting whistles from some male audience members. For most, the host’s looks weren’t the main focus anymore; it was her role and the psychological effect she had.
Lynch nodded honestly. She hadn’t asked if he liked her, just if he thought she was good-looking. Lynch, straightforward and honest, replied, “Pretty good. I think the audience agrees.”
Cheers and whistles grew louder. Ora shifted her pose to emphasize her strengths, then sharpened her question: “So you like dating older women? Are you a
problem boy
?”
Problem boy
didn’t refer to one specific issue but a general type of troubled youth. Compared to other countries, the Federation’s teens faced more hardships. There was always a group that people couldn’t understand—those who were withdrawn, violent, hysterical, neurotic, homosexual, or even incestuous or engaged in bestiality. Collectively, they were called
problem boys
, with corresponding
problem girls
.
Ora was steering public opinion, implying Lynch might have a mother complex—a potential media explosion. Whether Lynch cared about any harm was another matter.
Sometimes being too harmless was a problem. Lynch wondered if he should change tactics to appear more aggressive, so no random troublemakers would pick on him.
As he pondered, Ora quickly asked, “Are you avoiding the question?”
The audience cheered, likely excited at home too. Ora glanced at the ratings light above—the numbers had clearly jumped two minutes ago and kept climbing.
The director breathed a sigh of relief. If Lynch stayed unprovoked, the show might not be as dramatic as before but would avoid sharp confrontations.
But no one expected Lynch to strike back.
He wasn’t the type to back down when attacked. He sized Ora up and said clearly and quickly, “You’ve been misleading the audience to think the way you want. That’s despicable.”
“I admit I said you looked good out of courtesy as a gentleman, even if you were ugly, I’d say your soul is beautiful!”
“But I didn’t expect you to exploit my kindness, twist my words, and manipulate the audience’s thoughts. I need to revise my answer.”
“Maybe you look good, but your soul disgusts me!”
Seconds later, someone laughed. The first to laugh suddenly realized why Lynch said
your soul is beautiful
—he was implying Ora wasn’t attractive.
The laughter sparked a wave of jeering, like when Ora embarrassed others—when Lynch embarrassed Ora, the crowd felt joy.
As long as someone’s image was shattered, the audience was happy.
Ora’s expression flickered. “I only raised questions and didn’t expect such a strong reaction. What are you hiding? Or avoiding?”
Her tone flared. She knew how harsh she was on the show, but no one had ever humiliated her like this. Lynch had.
He not only fought back but punched her hard with words. She laughed bitterly, “Rumor says you’re a gentleman…” shaking her head in denial.
Lynch was indifferent—gentleman or rogue, add
tycoon
and people saw them the same.
“You care a lot about your looks—from your style to flaunting your body to the audience and me. That shows you’re very concerned with your appearance.”
Ora interrupted, “So what? I’m beautiful, and I like showing it off.”
Lynch smiled and continued, “That’s actually a classic form of narcissism. You think you’re beautiful and blindly assume others see you the same way. You’ve lost your rationality. It’s a narcissistic personality disorder.”
“You might not have heard of the term, but it fits your behavior just now. Excessive narcissism often masks extreme insecurity. Your narcissism comes from your insecurity, which is why you’re so blind.”
“You just asked if I have a mother complex. Based on what I now understand about you, I want to flip the question. Ora, when you were a child, were you molested by someone, leaving you with terrible memories?”
“Could it be that the person who molested you was… your…?”
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