Blackstone Code-Chapter 399: Small Problems and Small Checks

After a day of selecting, Lynch assigned different tasks to the young men in the club. In the afternoon, Vera contacted him, wanting to talk.

He had the driver take him to Vera’s house. She stood at the door, and after a few seconds of eye contact, Lynch told the driver to wait by the roadside and walked up to her.

“I must have disrupted your schedule,” she smiled before he even entered. “But these matters are important, and it’s inconvenient to discuss over the phone.”

Her gaze shifted past Lynch’s shoulder, noticing several agents stepping out of another car nearby, surveying the area.

Sometimes, Vera felt emotional, especially when she saw Lynch’s handsome face on TV.

Before this, she never believed in miracles—neither did Gap. They, as middle class, were more rational and aware that miracles only happen when truly needed.

Most of the time, miracles don’t happen because they’re controlled by human will.

They believed more in hard work leading to greater rewards—that’s the middle-class approach to work and life; they worked harder than ordinary people.

This might sound ironic—middle-class wealth built on exploitation, right?

But in reality, they exploited and pressured only themselves.

When ordinary people linger in bed for a few extra minutes at 8:30, middle-class people have already exercised, eaten breakfast, and are nearly at work.

While ordinary people walk slowly, middle-class elites rush forward as if chasing fate.

When others waste time, the middle class squeezes every bit of value from themselves and saves it.

So miracles don’t happen—yet Vera had witnessed one.

A year ago, this young man had only founded a company with a registered capital of one hundred Sol. Now, no one could imagine how much wealth he had amassed—his fortune had multiplied many times over.

If this isn’t a miracle, then what is?

Looking at this young man, Vera briefly lost focus but quickly regained composure and invited Lynch inside.

“Sit anywhere. Want something to drink?” She went to the bar. Lynch asked for coffee, and soon two fragrant cups were brought over.

Vera’s attire was simple—probably the stress of life had subdued her love for beauty. She wore ordinary home clothes and black-rimmed glasses that concealed her delicate features. ℝÃNồBƐṡ

She tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “How should I say this… The company’s recent accounts don’t seem right.”

Lynch’s brow twitched as he sipped his coffee. Setting it down, he asked softly, “What’s wrong?”

“Our main income comes from secondhand goods auctions. We know the costs, the payments received, and after deducting expenses and manager fees, what’s left is pure profit. But sometimes, the money doesn’t add up.” 𝚏𝕣𝐞𝗲𝐰𝕖𝐛𝐧𝕠𝕧𝚎𝚕.𝐜𝚘𝗺

“Besides that, we bought land in the capital to build a secondhand goods trading zone. Actual spending there has already exceeded the initial budget…”

Lynch knew about the land acquisition—it was his plan, and they were just executing. They had called him before, and he approved their budget.

He believed the funds were enough to finish the project, maybe with some additional input later, but it shouldn’t run out halfway through.

“How long has this been going on?”

“About a month,” Vera said, “and the problems are all at the capital.”

She hesitated to say more because Richard was fully in charge there. His ability was obvious—Lynch had noticed.

He was a born marketing expert, motivated by money but not a fool. Lynch trusted he wouldn’t mess things up too badly.

But things seemed to have changed, forcing Lynch to stay longer in York State.

“This is important to me. Thank you.” Lynch took Vera’s hand and looked into her eyes sincerely. “You’ve helped me a lot. Without you, I don’t think I could focus on other matters.”

Vera tried to pull her hand away but didn’t. “It’s my duty—you’re my boss after all.”

Lynch nodded, “Don’t overwork yourself. Delegate some tasks to your staff…”

At that moment, a young boy holding a servant’s hand came back inside. When he saw Lynch, his smile disappeared instantly, and without looking back, he went upstairs.

Vera’s eyes lingered on the closed door, then she looked apologetically at Lynch. “Sorry. Since Gap… you know, the police and agents never respect those they see as criminals. He’s become afraid of strangers.”

During Gap’s flight, agents monitored everyone connected to him, often harassing them.

They appeared around their targets, checked belongings, and asked questions.

The adults found it unbearable; a young child under such pressure and stress started shutting down.

He began to fear strangers and avoid contact with anyone beyond those he knew.

Federal children often fall into low moods and negative emotions due to external pressures, which explains why there are more federal psychologists than in other countries.

Sometimes, people are strange. For example, Gephra’s society isn’t less civilized than the Federation’s, but their social system builds stronger resilience, which is ironic.

Lynch thought it was because they were spoiled.

He soon excused himself. Vera didn’t stop him—her focus was on the child.

It was getting late. After booking a ticket for tomorrow’s trip to the York capital, Lynch returned home and barely sat down before his phone rang.

After answering, he quickly left—the caller was Director Johnson, head of the York City tax branch of the Federal Tax Bureau.

By the lake on the city’s outskirts, Lynch met the elderly man.

Johnson wore an explorer’s hat, sunglasses, and tossed small items into the water.

Fish swarmed, disturbed by Lynch’s arrival, scattering quickly between safety and hunger.

Watching the fish disappear, Johnson sighed with a hint of melancholy. “You came quickly…”

Lynch said nothing, simply watching him.

Director Johnson’s face suddenly flushed. He lowered his voice and said, “I’ve run into some trouble recently…”

Before he could finish, Lynch interrupted, “How much do you need?”

Johnson was momentarily stunned, as if he hadn’t heard clearly. “What did you say?”

“I said, how much do you need?” Lynch pulled out his checkbook, removed the pen cap, and began writing. “Five thousand. Is that enough?” He quickly scribbled a number on the check.

Johnson felt embarrassed but said nothing, only frowning slightly.

Lynch added more, signed the check, and tore it off. “Fifteen thousand. That should cover the difficulties you’re facing, right?”

“That’s not what I meant…” Johnson tried to explain but ended up accepting the check.

He felt his dignity slipping away before Lynch. Sometimes he wondered if this was a trap, but he quickly dismissed the thought.

Even if it were a trap, if he hadn’t made mistakes, he wouldn’t be in this situation.

Michael’s wife was pregnant, and now her belly was showing. A woman’s husband was in prison, and suddenly she was expecting—no one thought this was normal.

Rumors spread quickly that she had been unfaithful during her husband’s imprisonment.

These rumors were deeply damaging, not only to the poor woman but also to Little Michael.

Before, Little Michael didn’t show warmth toward Director Johnson, but at least he didn’t glare at him with hatred.

Since his mother’s pregnancy became obvious, having experienced much and grown more mature, Little Michael immediately knew who was responsible.

It was undoubtedly Mr. Johnson, who frequently came to care for them.

The feeling was terrible. So Johnson and the woman discussed moving away to a place where no one knew them and enrolling Little Michael in a boarding private school.

This would avoid unpleasant conflicts between Michael, Johnson, and Michael’s mother.

The plan was good, but they had no money.

For the wealthy, the Federation was heaven—money was divine power, capable of anything.

For the poor, the Federation was hell—poverty was a devil’s noose tightening around their necks, making every struggle more desperate.

Right now, only Lynch could solve these problems because Lynch was rich.