Blackstone Code-Chapter 567: Don’t Stop!

Lynch liked casinos—not because he enjoyed gambling. Ever since he lost five bucks on his first bet and felt bad about it for half a day, he realized gambling wasn’t for him.
He wasn’t the type to get hooked on gambling. What fascinated him was the full spectrum of human nature on display.
He once met a true gambling expert—not a cheat, but someone who won consistently using mysterious, refined skills.
After becoming friends, the man told Lynch he didn’t really have any special techniques. His secret was observation.
He would study people’s micro-expressions, quickly build a reliable pattern through repeated observation, and then apply that pattern to the rest of the game. That way, he could dodge almost every scenario where he might lose, and drastically increase his chances of winning.
Everyone shows subtle, involuntary changes when they get good or bad cards—like dilated pupils or sudden shifts in breathing.
There were also small gestures: hand movements, eye flickers, or a change in posture.
Ironically, trying to hide a strong hand was often what gave it away.
It was during this time that Lynch’s powers of observation began to sharpen. After winning a game by reading his opponent’s facial cues, he found himself enjoying the place.
Everyone expressed joy, anger, sadness, and excitement differently. It was like a game—spot the pattern, test your theory, and walk away with someone else’s money.
The money itself no longer mattered. It was just a bonus.
Helen only snapped out of her thoughts when Lynch pulled her along to exchange twenty Sol for chips—just one chip.
On this luxury cruise, cash and chips held equal value. Wherever cash could be used, chips were accepted the same way.
But chips typically had to be cashed in before disembarking. Even if passengers planned to cruise again next year, it wasn’t recommended to hold onto them.
Each voyage used a new set of chips to prevent tampering or fraud.
With technology advancing fast, all kinds of scams had emerged: forged checks, counterfeit bills, fake chips—everything imaginable. Worse, they often went unnoticed at first, causing real losses.
Casinos frequently updated chips with new anti-counterfeit features, but some scammers still managed to keep up.
Thankfully, the ship’s casino avoided these problems by using a fresh batch of chips every trip.
The chip in Lynch’s hand was brand-new, with green trim and a
20
in the center.
“Is one enough?” Helen asked, eyeing the single chip skeptically.
In contrast to her uncertainty, Lynch seemed fully confident. “More than enough.”
Helen looked at him with a mix of awe and admiration. During their time together, she’d been drawn to the confidence he exuded—he always seemed right, never wrong. Every decision he made felt casual, yet somehow always landed perfectly.
To her, Lynch was a man who never made mistakes. If he said one $20 chip was enough, then it had to be. She believed it completely.
She even believed that if Lynch wanted to, he could win the entire ship with just that one chip—as long as someone gave him the chance.
But soon, she realized she didn’t understand Lynch as well as she thought. He always had a way of surprising her—with something she didn’t know whether to call unexpected or simply baffling.
“You… lost,” she said quietly, standing by the table as Lynch placed his lone chip on a bet, watched the dealer take it, and then—nothing. No twist, no miracle.
Lynch nodded casually. “Yeah, I lost.”
He admitted it plainly, without excuses.
“I thought…” Helen struggled to find the right words. “I thought when you said
one chip is enough
, you meant you could keep winning with just that one.”
She really had believed that. His calm tone and confident expression had filled her with certainty.
But now—he lost on the first bet. It was hard to accept.
Lynch didn’t seem to mind. After exchanging a few words with the other players, he got up and led Helen away.
“When I said
enough
, I meant I only ever gamble twenty Sol. Never more than that.”
“You didn’t really think I could win endless money with one chip and one bet, did you?”
“If I could do that, I wouldn’t need to do anything else. Every casino in the world would be handing me piles of cash every year.”
His smile made Helen feel like she’d been duped by her own foolish thoughts. She didn’t even know how to respond. Her question now felt silly and embarrassing.
Lynch kept walking. “When I said I’d show you something fun, I meant the ring. You know boxing, right?”
Helen nodded. “I know it, but I don’t really like watching it.”
They passed through most of the casino, eventually reaching the back. A crowd had gathered around a cage, where two men were fiercely fighting.
Every blow threatened to spill more blood onto the floor, which was already stained red.
The fighters weren’t young. They were both exhausted, breathing heavily. One had a gash on his brow that had been crudely stitched up but still bled steadily.
Both had reached their limits.
This wasn’t like the choreographed fights on TV or in movies—no flashy dodges or fancy techniques.
Here, it was just raw violence. Every punch landed hard.
Lynch found a good spot, waved Helen over, and sat down.
A staff member brought him a betting form. He could wager—or just watch.
Helen hesitated to look inside the cage. She whispered, “Will anyone die?”
“Die?” Lynch shook his head. “Of course not. This isn’t a novel or a movie. People don’t just die here.”
“Injuries are allowed. Death is not. The Federation wouldn’t tolerate a death, and if the cruise company knows what’s good for them, they won’t let that happen.”
Federal law is strange—sometimes it feels like it was written by lunatics, with nothing solemn or sacred about it.
For example, in one district’s local legislation, there’s a rule that you can’t have more than three rubber ducks in the bath, or you’ll be arrested and prosecuted.
But when it comes to matters of life, federal law becomes deadly serious.
Freedom, the love of freedom, and respect for the subject of that freedom—human life—are woven throughout the legal system. Life has been sanctified by something unseen. A person’s life is sacred and invaluable. No one has the right to take another’s life—not even the law itself.
(Later on, capitalists convinced people that private property is just as sacred, and under the law, it’s treated as equal to life.)
That’s also why, with societal progress, more and more places are abolishing the death penalty. Because even lawmakers and executioners don’t have the right to take a life.
Only God can take life—He gave it, and only He can take it back. No one else can. Ever.
That includes cage fights on cruise ships. If the company wants to avoid serious trouble, they’d better make sure no one dies.
When Helen heard that no one would die, only get injured, her expression finally relaxed a little. Still, she couldn’t bring herself to look directly at the two men inside the cage, exchanging brutal blows.
“I always tell myself, if I don’t keep pushing forward, one day I’ll end up in that cage,” Lynch said, watching intently while Helen looked away.
“It’s only in moments like this, here, that you can truly understand the despair poverty brings.”
“These people aren’t in there because they enjoy beating strangers bloody—or being beaten themselves—just to entertain people like us.”
“They’re here because they’re poor. Because they have no other way. They’re cornered. This is the only way they can make money.”
“Watching them suffer, bleed, struggle, resist—it reminds me to never stop moving forward.”
“Because the moment I stop, the moment I fall behind, I could be the next one locked in that cage.”
Lynch turned to the dazed girl beside him. “We’re the same. We’re all running. None of us can stop. And because I know that, I value everything I have now all the more.”