Blackstone Code-Chapter 612: Impossible

“Mr. Lynch, Mr. Herbes would like to meet with you…”
The hotel receptionist called Lynch, who was resting after concluding cultural exchange negotiations with Gephra.
Lynch’s arguments had convinced the Gephra leadership. They ultimately agreed to engage in limited, multi-dimensional cultural exchanges with the Federation, instead of foolishly insisting—like before—that only Gephra’s culture was worth attention and all others were trash.
This shift was a natural outcome of military and political strength. When you’re weak, even if you scream, you’re dismissed as background noise. But once you’re powerful, even a whisper prompts others to strain their ears, afraid to miss anything that might make them your enemy.
The Gephrans hoped cultural exchange would help the Federation see them not as evil. With social progress, monarchies were increasingly viewed as corrupt and backward. As both a victorious and aggressor nation, Gephra’s international image was poor.
If they could sway the Federation’s public toward Gephra’s worldview and values, military conflict between the two would become far less likely.
This logic had been proven—previous isolationism and the current push for openness both reflected the will of the Federation’s common people. Convincing them meant convincing the government. That was a key reason why Gephra agreed to cultural exchange.
It was a positive development—one that meaningfully advanced world peace.
Notably, the exchange program included film collaborations. Jania would represent Gephra and travel with the delegation to the Federation. At her proposal, both sides agreed to co-produce no fewer than three ideological feature films. Jania would star as the lead actress in one of them.
Both sides were satisfied with the outcome. But then the crisis in Nagaryll erupted.
Lynch had been closely monitoring the situation from his hotel. Mr. Herbes’s visit was expected.
That morning, on the Gephra Venus Exchange, the Valier had fallen to 300:1 against the Gael. Converted to Federal Sols, it was about 170–180:1—another cliff-drop since the previous night.
Many international observers believed Nagaryll’s situation wouldn’t improve anytime soon. The Federation not only refused to offer help but subtly warned other nations and individuals to stay out of Nagaryll’s internal affairs.
The royal family had no effective solutions, and arguably, had done nothing at all. This meant they were unlikely to clean up the aftermath anytime soon—possibly not until the Kingdom of Nagaryll was completely replaced by a new regime.
Some bold newspapers even ran headlines like
Countdown to Collapse
, reflecting the global pessimism toward the royal family’s prospects.
All this drove Mr. Herbes to come to Lynch. He still had a chance to minimize his losses—if he could recover his Valiers now, he could repay his debts quickly and sell the rest to desperate speculators betting on a rebound.
Despite the plummeting rates, the market was still full of gamblers
buying the dip
, just like during the Federation’s financial crisis years ago. People were always willing to bet on a miracle.
If Nagaryll reached an agreement with the Federation—or even another country—and the government stayed intact, the Valier wouldn’t be phased out of the international system, and those bets might yield substantial returns.
Lynch himself had once been such a
madman.
He and another
Mr. Herbert
had bought up Gephra’s war bonds—then seen as worthless scraps.
At the time, many thought he was insane, investing all his earnings. But Lynch and those like him were simply gambling on a one-in-ten-thousand chance to multiply their capital a hundredfold.
Regular investments rarely even double, and the larger the capital, the harder that becomes. But in these extreme markets, astronomical returns tempt the bold. There will always be such madmen. So if Herbes could get his money back, he could still cut his losses.
Before long, Lynch met Mr. Herbes in the lounge. Compared to their last meeting at a party, Herbes looked disheveled and worn.
His hair was no longer perfectly groomed, his eyes lacked their former sharpness, and he radiated exhaustion.
“Mr. Lynch, thank you for making time to meet me…,” Herbes said. The arrogance he once carried was completely gone. He had seen through Lynch’s plan before the Valier collapsed, but he had no way to escape.
Conflicts between nations can’t be influenced by a minor prince. Once a process of that scale begins, individual effort is meaningless.
He had seen the abyss coming but had no way to stop his fall.
Now, he came to Lynch to plead—hoping that, out of appreciation for the capital he had raised for him, Lynch might let him recover some of it.
His tone was respectful, even humble—something he had never shown Lynch before.
No matter how much praise Lynch received from the world, Herbes never thought Lynch was better than him. He had his own pride. He looked down on Lynch.
From their first encounter, when he made Lynch lose millions in liquidity, to later meetings where he was wealthier and more prestigious, he always felt superior. That pride had made it impossible to bow his head.
But now…
Lynch smiled. “Please, sit, Mr. Herbes. You’re too polite—it’s unlike you.” He paused. “Would you like something to drink?”
“No…” Herbes reflexively declined, then reconsidered. “…Coffee, please. Thank you.”
Lynch ordered two cups. They each took a sip. The room fell silent.
Lynch wasn’t in a rush to speak. He kept his usual relaxed smile. But Herbes couldn’t hold it in. He put down his cup and looked at Lynch.
“Mr. Lynch, about our agreement…”
“Is it… possible to end it early?” Herbes chose his words carefully. “You know how badly the Valier has fallen. I’m willing to pay a penalty. I just hope to recover part of the funds—my part.”
He looked at Lynch with hope.
Lynch, however, calmly replied, “What does that have to do with me, Mr. Herbes? I don’t understand.”
“We have a contract. When the Valier was rising rapidly, my risk kept growing. I never suggested terminating the contract early because we agreed—everything follows the contract.”
“Now that the Valier has collapsed, I’m sorry too, but early termination…” Lynch shook his head. “Impossible, Mr. Herbes. Even if you pay a penalty, I would still suffer a huge loss.”
Lynch had a point. As the borrower, he had taken great risks when the Valier appreciated.
Borrowed funds aren’t for hoarding—they’re for use. But spending them creates exposure to exchange-rate loss. As the Valier strengthened, Lynch’s pressure and risk multiplied.
If Lynch spent the money when the Valier was at 100:1 and it appreciated to 50:1, he’d need 2 Sols to buy back every 100 Valiers—losing 1 Sol in the process.
He borrowed 10 billion. At those exchange swings, even without interest, if the Valier hadn’t crashed, he’d have lost tens of millions in Federal Sols.
His reasoning was completely sound, leaving Mr. Herbes speechless.
Indeed, when Lynch was the one facing risk, he never asked to terminate the contract early—and even if he had, Mr. Herbes wouldn’t have agreed.
Now that the risk and pressure had shifted, and Herbes was the one in trouble, he wanted out—but Lynch clearly wasn’t going to agree.
He licked his lips, looking somewhat pitiful. “I’m getting old… I can’t handle a blow like this. I’ll do my best to compensate for your losses, Mr. Lynch…”