Blackstone Code-Chapter 431: The Show Goes On

Honestly, Lynch was a bit surprised. He had already seen through Anna’s intentions.

For someone who had lived a long time, held many secrets unknown to others, and witnessed life’s joys and sorrows, he could tell what she was planning just from her subtle actions.

Still, it was unexpected that she could go this far, and it made him reflect on how tough life really was for everyone.

To prove she could surpass Severella in some ways—even arranging home delivery services—showed the pressure she had endured.

Whenever people mentioned promising, ambitious girls in their circle, Anna was always compared to Severella—and always lost.

Under those circumstances, her intense desire to defeat her rival was understandable.

Lynch smiled and extended his hand. “Hi, I’m your new roommate, Lynch.”

He couldn’t help but laugh.

Ugly people’s smiles can be awkward, but Lynch was a handsome, bright young man, and his smile was as pleasant as that of any beautiful girl.

“What’s so funny?” Anna looked down at her clothes, wondering if it was something about her. She even asked the other two girls if there was something wrong with her appearance.

Lynch waved his hand and explained, “Because roommate, you know, is a word often used in prison…”

Federation prisons—and those in another world—were made up of many cells, basically rooms where criminals were held.

Different places used various terms to define relationships and social status.

But where Lynch had lived, people were polite and refined—probably because only certain social classes were allowed in.

No one called each other by name; they all referred to one another as cellmate or simply roommate. After all, the people there were cultured, refined.

This was the refined way of making the best of a bad situation, and in truth, they really were friends.

Anna’s mention of roommates and Lynch’s repeated words brought back many amusing memories, making him laugh uncontrollably.

Those bastards never expected that he’d not only survive that place but also start a whole new life.

His demeanor seemed to have evolved and elevated in a short time, making him even more striking in the girls’ eyes.

Even the quiet, brown-haired girl sneaked a few extra glances as she adjusted her glasses.

“I’ve never heard that joke before,” Anna frowned and thought for a moment. “And it’s not funny.”

The poverty of international vocabulary often gave a word many meanings or allowed one meaning to be described by many words. Prison roommate was hardly a joke, and she couldn’t laugh. ȑàΝôВËŝ

Besides, she meant friends who live in the same house, which, with some context, could even imply people who live together.

“Enough of that. Take me to my room,” Lynch said.

He hadn’t brought much luggage since he’d leave early tomorrow. Staying on campus today was just a formality.

It was like a bride and groom who’d known each other since childhood, through many ups and downs, finally marrying. Though intimately familiar, the wedding night remained a ritual.

The outcome didn’t matter; the process did. That was the spirit the Federation valued.

Lynch’s room was the second door on the left upstairs. Twenty-five square meters—not small, but most here found it cramped.

Inside was a bed pushed against the wall under the window, a desk facing the window, a simple bookshelf, a wardrobe at the foot of the bed, the door nearby, and a small table along the wall by the door.

The room was spotless, with a faint fragrance that only girls could produce—and not just one scent, suggesting they all helped clean.

“Are you satisfied?” Anna asked as she entered, absentmindedly rubbing her fingers—a telltale sign she hadn’t cleaned but probably supervised the other two. If she had cleaned, she wouldn’t have done that since she knew the hygiene situation well.

“You can borrow books from the library and keep them here, just return them before spring, summer, or winter break.”

“There’s no TV in the dorm, but they installed cable lines. If you want, I can have someone bring you one,” she said, turning to Lynch. “Want a TV?”

Lynch shook his head. “No, thanks.”

This marked a clear difference. In many ordinary universities, owning a TV was a point of pride, but here, no one had time for TV.

Even recommended students were either socializing, in the lab, or at the library.

Studying and socializing mattered far more than watching TV—so much so that students had an environment almost impossible to define, yet no TV.

People here generally saw watching TV as a waste of time.

Whatever they needed from TV, they got from newspapers. If something wasn’t in print, their household servants recorded it for them to watch on weekends.

Having a TV in a dorm was a sign of mediocrity here—no social life, no ambition.

“I’m leaving early tomorrow morning and don’t know when I’ll be back, so no need to prepare anything for me.” Lynch sat on the bed, patting it. “If possible, can I get a firm bed? I can’t sleep on springy or soft beds.”

He stood up. He was used to hard beds, and the Federation people loved mattresses—probably a cultural thing.

For years, they’d used horsehair or palm fiber mattresses, then moved on to spring and foam beds. Even the president enjoyed sinking into a soft mattress every night. But Lynch couldn’t handle it.

After decades of hard beds, soft ones just gave him back pain.

“No problem, I’ll have someone handle that!” Anna agreed without hesitation. As student council president, she had the authority to swap out mattresses. “Anything else?”

Lynch shook his head. Even after returning from Nagaryll, he wouldn’t stay here long. Few teachers could teach what he needed. He might stay here occasionally to relax, but not for long.

The girl left quickly, busy as she was. Finding time to escort Lynch back was a rare break.

Before leaving, she told him she’d reserved a spot in the dining hall for a group celebration tonight.

Anna was smart. Without Severella’s unreasonable father, she might have rivaled or even surpassed Severella.

She didn’t invite Lynch for a private dinner—it would have been too ambiguous—but used the dorm’s welcome party as an excuse to invite him. Much better that way.

Whether it was her, him, or them, there weren’t many faults to find, and Lynch didn’t really want to refuse.

Without much hesitation, Lynch agreed—it was just a meal after all.

After Anna left, Lynch wandered near the school and left before lunch. As soon as he stepped out the school gate, Lime was already waiting by the roadside.

The moment Lime saw Lynch approaching, he tossed his cigarette to the ground and quickly came over. When they reached the car, Lime opened the door for Lynch.

Inside the car, without the scorching sun, Lynch felt much better. He casually asked, “How much investment have you raised?”

Lime, sitting in the passenger seat, looked a bit awkward. “Not much—less than two million. To be exact, one million eight hundred ninety thousand.”

The number was far below what Lynch had imagined; he expected a zero at the end.

But reality hit him hard, like a train crashing into his waist, revealing a harsh truth.

People were willing to entrust him with financial accounts holding hundreds of thousands or millions to manage, but they wouldn’t hand over cash so easily.

Money in accounts always belonged to the owner no matter how it fluctuated. If Lime wanted higher commissions, he had to keep those accounts profitable.

But cash, once given to Lime, was no longer clearly theirs. There was no guarantee. 𝙛𝒓𝒆𝙚𝒘𝒆𝓫𝙣𝓸𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝒄𝒐𝓶

For those who had survived this social class without going bankrupt, causing a company’s collapse while getting rich was easy, so Lime’s gains were small.

Besides a few who invested small amounts out of respect for Lynch, most remained cautious.

Lynch had expected this outcome; it was a necessary step. He had to make Lime understand an essential truth.

Lime was a nobody, worthless to the world. Lynch was the valuable one. Lime had to adjust his mindset and stop getting emotional over money that wasn’t his.

This was the reality for high-level finance workers. They might generate astronomical wealth for their employers but only earn modest commissions themselves. They had to accept it or they wouldn’t last in the industry.

Lynch nodded without comment. “It’s okay. We still have a chance.”