Blackstone Code-Chapter 396: Support

Preyton left the filthy, foul-smelling basement with the girl. Using her identity, they stayed for a day in a small motel—she booked a room, and Preyton slipped in afterward.

The uninterested clerk only recorded the registrant’s face and name, paying no attention to the comings and goings. Watching people was less entertaining than watching TV, which at least brought some happiness.

At the motel, Preyton locked the girl in the bathroom and washed her thoroughly, like cleaning a foal or farm animal. After scrubbing off heavy makeup, the mirror reflected a young girl with freckles, brown hair, and a somewhat pretty face.

Without the exaggerated makeup, she looked innocent—a natural beauty typical of an eighteen-year-old. Youth itself was enough to reveal her best side without artifice.

Yet the girl in the mirror looked uneasy. Her hands fidgeted aimlessly by her sides; her eyes wandered nervously, filled with guilt and shyness. She couldn’t face her reflection or her past. She knew her life was a mess, but so was everyone’s; as long as she wasn’t the worst off, that was enough.

“Remember what I told you?” Preyton tossed her a new set of pajamas.

She nodded while dressing. “You’re kind. You took me in. Your wife died years ago. I think you’re reliable, so…”

Preyton had crafted a backstory: a widower living across the city who had taken in a wandering girl. A lonely heart meeting someone who needed care—an ordinary, comforting story with no surprises.

This time, the girl returned with him, encouraged to contact her family—at least her mother—to prevent anyone worrying about her. After a while, they would leave.

Everything unfolded exactly as Preyton planned. The girl’s stepfather, who desired her, chose money over his stepdaughter and, like a real father, started protecting her, even warning Preyton not to mistreat or abandon her.

It was a strange feeling. The girl had never realized how powerful money could be—not just changing attitudes, but transforming souls.

Preyton settled quietly. Neighbors treated him well, even thinking the girl lucky to have found a wealthy man. By occasionally gifting small presents, Preyton fully integrated into the community.

Some people were relaxed; others, anxious.

After finishing his speech at Kurland State University, Lynch didn’t linger and returned quickly to Sabin City. His time was limited; many matters awaited him in Eminence.

Early morning, he called Ferrell, who soon appeared before him.

Ferrell looked awkward, almost embarrassed. “Coincidentally, I wanted to talk to you about something…”

Lynch nodded. “Let’s talk while we walk.”

Once in the car, Ferrell brought up his topic. “You know I’ve been a consultant for your company…” Lynch nodded again; he had invited Ferrell to advise him.

Ferrell had been instrumental early on. Even now, as Lynch’s enterprise grew, Ferrell’s involvement wasn’t insignificant.

Through Ferrell, Lynch met Edwin and conveyed his ideas to the governor, securing a chance to attend the president’s celebration and meet Mr. Truman—a worthwhile investment. ŕäΝÓ𝐛Ε𝓢

However, Ferrell had a different perspective. “At this stage, your business has grown beyond what I can advise on.”

Lynch now operated on a higher level. If he wished, he could easily meet the president himself. Truman’s strong performance during recent crises earned him favor, possibly a future cabinet role, like Foreign Minister.

The previous minister and deputy lacked achievements or capability in handling diplomatic crises. Truman was a perfect fit. 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝒆𝔀𝒆𝙗𝓷𝒐𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝓶

Lynch was already connected to such figures. A city mayor’s aide like Ferrell felt less relevant now.

Not that Ferrell wasn’t a friend or partner, but his current role as consultant seemed inadequate, yet he still drew a hefty monthly salary from Lynch.

Ferrell owed this work and pay nothing more; he simply couldn’t contribute much anymore.

Lynch patted Ferrell’s arm. “Since you brought it up, I respect your decision…”

People can be sentimental. Before speaking to Lynch, Ferrell worried about convincing him, fearing refusal.

His motives weren’t entirely selfless—he had his own interests.

Following major diplomatic and military breakthroughs, the Federation’s stock index began rising steadily despite broader declines. Capitalists benefited and actively promoted the new government and policies.

Capitalists were shameless, following only whoever served their interests.

Additionally, the president agreed to defense and military budget increases, winning reluctant military neutrality for the upcoming election in a year and a half.

The president’s victory seemed likely, potentially beginning a decade-long tenure. Ten years would be enough to build a loyal political base—prime time for political maneuvering.

Sabin City’s mayor, Landon, might soon leave office for higher positions, possibly state legislature or Congress.

Ferrell desperately needed strong support for his campaign.

Lynch’s stance was crucial. If he pretended ignorance, remained consultant, and drew a fat paycheck, would Ferrell risk being labeled greedy?

Come election time, a single slip—praising an opponent, for instance—could swing many votes away.

Local capitalists wielded strong influence over votes, often compelling workers to align politically with their interests.

Ferrell had to say what was on his mind, but when he did, Lynch immediately agreed to his request, leaving Ferrell feeling deeply disappointed.

So, in Lynch’s eyes, I’m that unimportant?

Ferrell realized that whining was pointless. Soon, he pulled himself together. Without the interference of personal gain, their relationship became simpler and cleaner.

But he was thinking too simply. Lynch quickly dangled a new incentive. “I just registered a labor services company. If you have any relatives or connections, you can find someone to invest. You know what I mean?”

Ferrell was stunned. Traditionally, only those in power could have stakes in local companies. As a mayor’s aide, he could at most enjoy minor perks—consulting fees or occasional gifts, like a set of golf clubs.

Rarely, if ever, did anyone offer people like him a chance to become shareholders. He simply wasn’t qualified.

What had moments ago made Ferrell sad now turned into genuine surprise. It wasn’t forced enthusiasm—he truly felt Lynch was a good man: kind, friendly, embodying almost every positive trait.

Seeing Ferrell still caught up in his surprise, Lynch patted his arm. “I heard the mayor plans to leave in two years. No matter what, I support you running for office.”

“You understand every corner of this city better than anyone else. You know what the people here need—that’s your advantage. Others can’t do that, so I’ll back you.”

“Mr. Lynch…” Ferrell was moved beyond words. Happiness had come so fast it nearly overwhelmed him. He even called Lynch Mr. Lynch. “Thank you so much!”

“You’ll see—choosing me won’t be a decision you regret.”