Blackstone Code-Chapter 372: Carelessness and an Explosion

“Mr. Lynch, why…”

Lime hesitated, sitting in the office, confused. Why did Lynch encourage everyone to short copper ore, yet remain transparent on the forex issue?

He had deceived others earlier but then revealed the truth later. Lime didn’t understand why Lynch didn’t share the same copper ore insights as openly as he did on forex, or why he didn’t continue misleading on forex to gain more profit.

Undoubtedly, Lynch, who had secured four trading seats through Mr. Herbert, had started having Lime learn from the top traders. For Lime, a low-level stockbroker, recent operations were confusing.

Curious and sensing there was much to learn, Lime finally asked.

Lynch put down the newspaper he had been reading—a photo of him taken by a reporter long ago, black and white, yet still exuding youthful vigor and determination.

Gephra’s inevitable defeat had become a societal hotspot, but surprisingly, Gephra’s diplomatic envoy showed no signs of sensitivity. Many knew everyone was waiting.

Waiting for a result. Once it appeared, a series of diplomatic moves would follow. Meanwhile, negotiations between the Federation and Gephra paused for summer, ostensibly to avoid heatstroke.

Lynch glanced briefly at Lime, applying pressure with a simple look. Instinctively, Lime leaned back, buttoned up, straightened his spine, and focused his gaze on Lynch’s desk in submission.

“The reason is simple, Lime,” Lynch said calmly, “Among the factors affecting commodity futures prices, capital’s influence is a key reference. If too much capital forms a force or trend, we won’t make much money.”

“To make big money here, you have to exploit information gaps and strike others—whether allies or enemies—they all become the fuel that strengthens you. Understand?”

“Chasing highs and cutting losses” is a popular trading strategy from Eminence. It’s straightforward: when stocks, bonds, or futures start losing, immediately stop losses and reverse positions. Though limited and not truly valuable as a theory, it’s very practical today.

Many have profited using this method, causing more to follow.

Lynch planned to exploit their faith in this approach. Once they started losing, some would close positions and buy copper ore. This force wouldn’t compete with Lynch’s main gains but would help him earn more.

As more joined, Lynch’s profits would grow. With good leverage, a myth can be created in a minute.

“As for forex…” Lynch shook his head. “Political factors mainly drive real forex changes. I need people united with me. Only then can we shake Gael’s price trend and gain security in many ways.”

Shorting the currency of a globally recognized strong nation isn’t just risky in the market—it’s dangerous in reality.

In this seemingly civilized yet still savage world, physically eliminating enemies isn’t best but is simplest.

If he alone shorted Gael, he couldn’t shift the trend. Even if unrest broke out in Amellia, Gael’s fluctuations would be temporary.

Only if most Federation capitalists and merchants sided with him would a powerful force form. Once unrest flared, many accounts and international speculators would join to strike Gael.

No one truly wanted Gephra to become strong. Creating artificial problems to ease their hardline stance was a shared goal.

If futures market tactics aimed to extract maximum profit, the forex strategy was about unity.

Capital is never isolated—just like politics.

“You might not fully grasp this now, but you will later. For now, write down what I say.”

Lime took notes seriously, feeling confused despite the clarity. He sensed the big picture but couldn’t see it all.

His limited vision made him aware of the gap between himself and Lynch. Determined, he resolved to study diligently what he never had before, to grow stronger. ŘἁŊŏ₿Εꞩ

The sloppy research from the Southern Machinery Institute had an astonishing impact. Even a 5% production increase would reshape the industry, not to mention 25%.

More foreign mining companies sent representatives to the Federation, gathering near the Institute, hoping for detailed data.

What they didn’t know: the Institute director was sweating, cursing a resigned researcher. A decimal error inflated the final figure by multiples.

That same day, the resistance group led by the white-skinned young man codenamed Seagull infiltrated Amellia’s largest copper mine.

They planned sabotage. The equipment and medicine provided by Robin were clean, showing their intent.

Several resistance groups in Amellia had received support recently and become active. Assassinations of patrols resumed after a quiet spell.

The white-skinned youth heard from other groups that the louder the chaos, the more international attention and support for their fight against imperial oppression.

To quickly build their reputation among rising resistance groups, they infiltrated near the mine.

“Destroying this mine isn’t hard,” said a resistance contact, a foreman who’d worked inside the mine. “If we damage the support structures of the upper-middle tunnels, vibrations will collapse all tunnels. They won’t mine here for a while.”

The youth agreed but worried, “How do we confirm if miners are inside? Do they work at night?”

The miner-resistance member nodded, “They work nights. Gephra treats us like demons—24/7 shifts until we collapse. There’ll be some, but not many.”

The youth nodded gravely, “Can we warn them to leave?”

“No, that would alert Gephra,” the miner answered.

After weighing the risk of alerting Gephra or not, the youth decided to recruit more miners to their cause—the best fighters.

With the decision made, the resistance acted—eliminating what Gephra personnel they could and secretly contacting working miners.

When five Gephra mine patrol soldiers found a comrade dead in a guard post, a gunshot shattered Amellia’s night sky.

In a daze, the governor suddenly woke, stared into darkness, then sat up sharply. He slipped on slippers and moved to the window.

The calm night outside gave him slight comfort; he sighed.

He had spent a year in constant tension, often waking like this. Frowning at the dark silence, he felt unsettled.He walked to the door, about to open it to call the butler and ask if there were any urgent messages, when the sudden, shrill ringing of the phone in the bedroom made him shudder.

Embarrassingly, he was genuinely startled. The quiet of the night was instantly shattered, each beep of the phone ringing piercingly sharp. He hurried to the bedside table, answered the call, and his expression immediately changed.