Blackstone Code-Chapter 478: Birthday and Getting Ready to Slip Away

Regardless of whether the Emperor of Gephra lost control and roared in the throne room again, Lynch was about to celebrate his birthday.

On October 10th, he turned twenty-two.

He hadn’t celebrated his birthday last year. He wasn’t used to it, or rather, before coming to this world, he was accustomed to not celebrating birthdays.

In that place, birthdays were a torment—being trapped for life, each birthday was a reminder that some people, in that way, had stolen another year of your life.

So, people there rarely celebrated birthdays, unlike ordinary regions with small rooms where birthdays were common. In those places, people held birthday parties with performances and festivities, because every birthday meant they were one step closer to freedom.

But in Lynch’s old world, every birthday brought you one step closer to the grave.

This made Lynch indifferent to whether he celebrated or not after arriving here.

This time, he didn’t want to celebrate—there was no meaning to it—but he couldn’t avoid it because Severella had tracked him down to celebrate.

Before realizing his birthday was coming, Lynch had just finished a salon with local, foreign, and Federation merchants.

Though it sounded complicated, it was just a gathering of anxious and excited merchants discussing upcoming market competition.

Lynch had said before that the Joint Development Company wouldn’t monopolize everything like the Preyton Trading Company.

The Federation still cared about its image. Even if they wanted to control everything internally, they did it indirectly and wouldn’t admit it.

They let the market decide, no longer allowing institutions like Preyton to monopolize, which was the right and just way.

In the past, every business’s plans, profits, and scale were tightly controlled. These leaders just needed to assign a few underlings for daily work and wait for money to roll in.

Now, Lynch opened the market, refusing to monopolize shares even himself. This made upcoming market competition fierce.

Competition among local, foreign, and Federation merchants would be a bloody war without rules, starting with price wars escalating rapidly.

Lynch was the sole referee, so this meeting was essentially him setting the rules and pulling the trigger.

He didn’t care much for local business yet but valued the local market—two or three hundred million people. If they grew wealthy, their consumption power would surprise even the Federation.

This was part of his and the Joint Development Company’s plan: provide suitable jobs and wages to Nagaryll’s people to exploit their labor value, then reclaim much of it through selling services and goods. Perfect.

Lost in thought, Lynch walked forward when the door suddenly opened, and cheers nearly startled him.

Happy birthday. The phrase, meant to be joyful, left him half amused, half exasperated.

Having seen many big scenes, he handled it well, unclenching his fists and forcing an incredulous smile.

Severella, blushing, held what looked like a hat—Federation people had many ritualistic customs.

Different festivals had special menus or dining protocols. Even gang fights followed rituals about how to kill and dispose of bodies, so seasoned cops could gather intel from crime scenes easily.

Birthdays had their own ritual: wearing a pointed, colorful hat.

Severella didn’t notice Lynch’s mixed expression; she placed the hat on him and pulled him inside.

Inside, Lynch saw the Magulana Governor dressed in Federation attire and felt much better.

“I didn’t know you were coming…” Lynch said softly, standing before a birthday cake taller than a person.

The girl’s cheeks reddened slightly. “I read a book that said people should fight for their happiness, so I came. I think you’re my happiness.”

Such a blunt confession caught Lynch off guard. Was Mr. Wadrick mistaken, sending this girl here?

In fact, Lynch shared Wadrick’s view: he was unlikely to marry Severella, and Wadrick wouldn’t permit it.

Severella’s strength didn’t refer to her personality at work or life, but her family background and connections far exceeded Lynch’s and wouldn’t help him. Ȑ𝘼𐌽ŏβĚ𝙨

Their relationship might even limit Lynch’s development. When negotiating business, people would consider Severella and her backers’ attitudes, weighing possible negatives and bypassing Lynch.

Any growth Lynch achieved would be seen as owed to Severella’s influence, which would damage both his reputation and business.

Unless he could grow strong enough before marriage to overshadow his origins—a process needing at least a decade—this love was doomed.

Maybe that’s why Wadrick sent her—because he knew the outcome.

Still, being valued was pleasant. Lynch whispered “thank you” and cut the cake.

A few hundred meters away, Mr. Simon had just returned home.

The salon had worsened his already low spirits.

Lynch declared he wouldn’t intervene in merchant competition but wouldn’t tolerate vicious rivalry.

He described what he considered vicious competition, but to Simon, Lynch was merely enforcing local laws and possibly Federation regulations, essentially suppressing local foreign merchants like Simon.

Having been here longer, Simon and others knew the local scene well. If anyone resorted to crime to harm rivals, it was those with deep local ties like Simon.

Lynch set rules restraining local foreign merchants but didn’t regulate malicious acts in competition, such as product runs and price wars.

Both were the biggest fears for merchants.

Product runs had many forms; the most common was returns. Don’t think the concept of returns is gone—customers could demand refunds if unsatisfied.

Whether to refund was the merchant’s choice, but if refusal caused trouble, the merchant bore the consequences.

If goods are returned, then others buy and return again—should he keep stocking up?

If he stops stocking, there’s nothing to sell.

If he stocks, the returned goods pile up, tying up a lot of his capital.

Worse yet was the dreaded price war, which could wipe out merchants. During the Preyton Trading Company era, they set fixed or protected prices to ensure every distributor’s profits. That’s why everyone supported Preyton. Now, all that was gone.

Federation merchants had the upper hand; local merchants weren’t their match. Maybe leaving now was the wisest choice.

Frowning, Simon entered his study and summoned his butler. “Find out the current value of my properties, factories, and stores.”

He tried to sound casual, but the butler sensed something different. After hesitation, the butler cautiously asked, “Sir, are you planning to leave?”

“Leave?” Simon chuckled. “Of course not. At this afternoon’s salon, I met some arrogant Federation merchants. I’ve decided to show them a lesson—that even without Preyton Trading Company, we’re still half the masters here!”

Strong words, but the butler didn’t fully believe it.

While pondering how to ease the butler’s doubts, Simon’s gaze caught his son by the garden, chatting with a young man over a low hedge.

He frowned briefly but relaxed quickly. He didn’t intend to take the boy and his mother away—only planned to leave alone.

Soon the butler emerged from the study and met the young master just finishing his chat. The boy immediately noticed the butler’s troubled expression.

As a child eager to prove himself, he was very observant.

He approached quietly and asked, “Butler, what’s wrong? You look like something’s bothering you.”