Blackstone Code-Chapter 568: The Refined Boy

The fight was intense—not in the cinematic sense, nor like a high-level match in the real world, but something different.
What made it special was that both fighters had reasons they had to keep going. Even when completely exhausted, they pushed themselves to stay on their feet just a little longer.
If one of them hadn’t collapsed from sheer fatigue, unable to rise again, the match might have continued even longer.
Brutal is the right word for what happened in that cage—from the ferocious opening strikes to the final struggle to knock each other down, the blood-soaked mat, scabbed wounds, and dark red stains left behind.
When the victor raised his arm with a blank expression, assisted by the referee, and the loser knelt sobbing on the ground, it all hit Helen hard.
She had gone to college, read plenty of books, and understood that men could be vulnerable—like her father.
Before she started working for Lynch, she had seen that vulnerability in him more than once, even as he forced himself to appear strong.
She thought that was a man’s limit: no matter how bitter life got, they would still smile through it. But now, she realized—men cry too.
No matter how tough or determined he seemed just moments ago, the moment he lost, he broke down like a girl.
And a man’s tears hit harder than a woman’s—because they’re rare, and what’s rare is precious. What’s common becomes cheap.
Lynch waved over a server. The man quickly approached. “Mr. Lynch, it’s an honor to serve you.”
Photos of Lynch, Mr. Wadrick, Mr. Patric, and other board members of the Joint Development Company had already been printed and distributed to all staff onboard.
The cruise line didn’t expect its staff to please every board member, but they had to at least recognize them to avoid any incidents.
Among them, Lynch’s face was the most recognizable—he was the youngest, the most handsome, and the one with the strongest presence. The server identified him instantly.
“Can you tell us the story behind the man in the ring?” Lynch smiled. “The lady beside me is curious about what led him there.”
Helen glanced at Lynch, her eyes holding something unspoken. She gently reached out and held his hand, then looked at the server.
With a touch of emotion in his voice, the server told a story that was both ordinary and extraordinary.
Ordinary, because it centered around money—most things do.
Extraordinary, because it also involved family, struggle, and redemption.
To entertain cruise guests, the cage fights didn’t feature only professionals. Some were
semi-professional
—at least according to the cruise company.
In truth, many of these so-called semi-pros hadn’t even known the rules a year ago. But they needed money, and they fit the image that cruise lines and entertainment companies were looking for. Then came the agents.
Agents offered them one-year contracts. Over that year, they underwent at least six months of intense training before stepping into the ring—on the cruise ship or elsewhere.
With that much training, they looked the part. And the reason they joined was always the same: money.
The defeated fighter had once been a senior partner at a major firm, earning an enviable annual bonus. Then his wife was diagnosed with a rare illness.
He’d heard that private medical care, not public health, had better treatment options. So he switched her from social healthcare to commercial insurance.
Just like the magazines and TV ads said—those at the top relied on private health insurance and received premium care.
As long as he had money, that worked. The medical group gave his wife the best resources and technology money could buy. They couldn’t cure her, but they slowed the illness so it barely affected her life. He was grateful.
Then the financial crisis hit.
His firm didn’t survive the second wave. It went bankrupt. He lost his job.
Most people in the Federation don’t save much. He couldn’t afford to keep paying the insurance. And when the payments stopped, so did his wife’s extra care.
When you can pay, they treat you like a god. When you can’t, you’re tossed out like garbage.
He tried to return her to public healthcare. But the Social Services Bureau and the Federal Medical Authority refused.
When he opted out of public coverage, he signed a voluntary waiver.
Federal social welfare isn’t something citizens apply for. It’s a legal right granted at birth. But once someone gives it up, it’s gone—permanently.
There’s not even an office to take reapplications. The system simply doesn’t allow a return.
So, to pay for his wife’s ongoing treatment, this man—who two years ago wore tailored suits and lived the high life—had no choice but to enter the cage, to entertain others.
But he lost. And that meant he had fewer chances left. One more defeat, and he’d be cut.
Aside from a pitiful base salary written into his contract, he’d get nothing more. No bonus. No more money to save his wife.
Lynch could feel Helen gripping his hand even tighter. The story had touched her.
He gently pulled his hand away, took a pen from his pocket.
The server immediately understood and respectfully handed over a notepad.
Lynch scribbled quickly, signed his name, and handed it back. The server glanced at it, then lit up. “Thank you so much for your generosity, Mr. Lynch…”
Lynch nodded with a smile. The server quickly departed.
Lynch had just given a tip. These would be settled later through the Joint Development Company, which covered regular expenses for board members and shareholders while on board.
No one tried to cheat the company. That would be laughable. But tips weren’t included in that policy.
Ten minutes later, the crowd slowly began to disperse under the host’s guidance. The next match would begin in half an hour.
Helen sat quietly for a while longer, trying to calm down. She felt… that life could be incredibly cruel, always robbing people of hope and the future.
The only comforting thought was that she’d met Lynch. He had given her a job, a high salary, and spared her and her family from a similar fate.
She couldn’t imagine what would’ve happened if her family had gone through that—selling their house, moving to a bad neighborhood, slipping deeper into a tunnel with no light at the end.In the end, would she one day become like those girls by the pool outside the room, just to make money?
It was possible. She really needed the money—to support her family, to afford better treatment for her sister.
Helen couldn’t help but feel deeply sympathetic toward the defeated fighter in the ring. What they were both facing was the same nightmare: a loved one’s failing health.
And that required money. A lot of money. A constant, endless stream of it.
She had met Lynch. But who would that poor man have?
(╥﹏╥)
After composing herself, she looked at Lynch, signaling she was ready to leave. But Lynch didn’t move.
“Let’s wait a little longer…”
Wait for what? Helen didn’t know, but she didn’t object. She simply sat quietly beside him.
Not long after, a disheveled middle-aged man was led over by a server. “Mr. Lynch, the man you asked for is here.”
“If you need anything, I’ll be nearby…”
The server quickly stepped away, still within Lynch’s line of sight. The man left behind—he was the one who lost in the ring.
“Do you smoke?” Lynch asked.
There had been too many people around earlier, so he hadn’t lit up. Now that the crowd had cleared, he took out his cigarette case and pulled one out.
The man kept his head lowered, hesitating for a moment, then nodded. He took the cigarette from Lynch and the lighter, and lit it.
“You’re lucky,” Lynch said as he lit one for himself too. Sitting back with one leg crossed, he leaned forward slightly, resting his left elbow on his knee. “Your situation is similar to the lady beside me. So I’ve decided to give you a chance. Introduce yourself. If it fits, I’ll give you a job.”
The man snapped his head up, revealing a face twisted with disbelief. He stared at Lynch, stunned—like fate had played a cruel joke on him, only to suddenly turn around and offer a kind one.
Helen suddenly realized that this ragged-looking man in his thirties or forties was the same one who had been kneeling and crying in the ring earlier.
She quickly turned to look at Lynch, who wore his usual smile.
Confident. Clean. Radiant.