Blackstone Code-Chapter 511: Lin’s Insight Sees Through Everything

“Mr. Lynch, Mr. Jardon, the son of a wealthy local merchant, wishes to see you. Will you receive him or not?”

The next morning, right after breakfast, officials from the provincial governor’s office came to relay Jardon’s request to meet Lynch.

Having stayed at the governor’s mansion for quite some time, Lynch was about to move out. He had already found a good place and was building his new residence, expected to be ready by the end of the year or early January next year.

He planned to return to the Federation before the year’s end, and upon his return, move directly into the new house. So he had not bothered to move yet, marking this as likely his last month there.

Living here wasn’t very restrictive. Governor Drag was smart and had hired a new team of servants specifically for Lynch to avoid misunderstandings between them.

In a way, the governor’s mansion was divided—part belonged to the governor, part to Lynch.

Standing before him was Lynch’s temporary butler. Eventually, Lynch would select a permanent butler himself.

The butler’s role was crucial. In prominent families, heirs chose childhood playmates who often grew up alongside them. If the heir inherited significant wealth, these playmates became trusted butlers; if not, they turned into reliable partners managing assets.

This system wasn’t unique—another world had a similar practice called born into the household.

Butlers had access to many secrets of their masters; only trustworthy and reliable people could hold such a role.

Lynch kept his eyes on the newspaper, not distracted by the butler’s report, and said, “Show Mr. Jardon in.”

After the butler bowed and left, Lynch returned his focus to an article that might seem unimportant to most: a report from an international agency rating Nagaryll’s economic outlook for the next five years.

The newspaper was the Daily Report, the most widely circulated paper in Nagaryll, known for serious political, economic, and cultural coverage—not trivial stories about local gossip or myths.

The rating agency, little known to Lynch, had clearly done thorough research. They collected extensive data, noting that since Nagaryll established diplomatic ties with the Federation, its October GDP nearly matched the combined GDP of the previous three months.

This surge was thanks to the Joint Development Company and numerous Federation merchants who, after breaking the trade blockade imposed by the Preyton Trading Company, revitalized Nagaryll’s market economy. Federation merchants were seen everywhere negotiating with locals, with furs, spices, agricultural products, and culturally unique crafts leading sales.

The agency believed that as Federation merchants helped Nagaryll industrialize, the country’s cheap labor would soon trigger a new development boom. They rated Nagaryll’s five-year outlook with three small flames, equivalent to excellent.

Lynch raised his eyebrows, sensing something unique: the hot money circulating in international financial markets had caught the scent of opportunity and was preparing to drive new changes.

Behind this, Lynch, the Joint Development Company, and the Federation government had all worked hard to push Nagaryll to become a rising star.

Each party had its own goals, but their methods and mid-term objectives aligned, creating a unified momentum.

When a country pushes something forward, it naturally attracts speculators.

Lynch set down the newspaper and noticed Jardon standing nearby.

“You’ve been here a while?” Lynch asked, curious, as he hadn’t heard any footsteps; even faint sounds would have given Jardon’s arrival away. 𝐟𝗿𝐞𝚎𝚠𝐞𝚋𝕟𝐨𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝕔𝕠𝚖

Jardon, two years younger than Lynch, smiled shyly. “Yes, Mr Lynch. When I entered, I saw you deeply focused on the newspaper, so I didn’t want to disturb you.”

“I understand how rare inspired thinking is, so I stayed silent.”

His modesty was more a show; Jardon’s behavior reflected respect and caution.

This wasn’t typical of Nagaryll locals, who were somewhat clumsy. Jardon’s manner resembled that of a Federation citizen, likely influenced by his foreign father.

Such straightforward respect easily wins goodwill—most people don’t have time to guess motives, so being direct is better.

Lynch found Jardon interesting. Unknown to him, Jardon’s silent footsteps came from years of living with Simon, who hated noise or interruptions, so Jardon had learned to move quietly like a cat at home. S

Though Simon was dead, Jardon retained this habit, leading to their somewhat unusual meeting.

“You’re interesting. Come, sit,” Lynch said, gesturing to a nearby wicker chair. Jardon sat obediently, which amused Lynch.

“You don’t have to act so reserved and harmless; we all know it’s just a show.”

Jardon, caught off guard, looked puzzled. “I don’t quite understand, Mr Lynch.”

Lynch shook his head, then asked the butler to bring tea and pastries before speaking again.

“We all know about the shooting incident yesterday.”

A flicker of panic crossed Jardon’s eyes; he felt like running, but years of emotional control imposed by Simon helped him remain composed.

“I don’t understand what you mean, Mr Lynch.”

Seeing Jardon uneasy, Lynch smiled lightly and pulled out a cigarette, offering one to Jardon.

Jardon hesitated for two seconds before accepting.

Jardon didn’t usually smoke; with a controlling, disapproving father, he had to constantly prove himself to earn approval—an unfortunate childhood.

Lynch lit Jardon’s cigarette. After a puff, Jardon coughed harshly. Lynch gave a brief tip on turning pain into pleasure, then continued:

“I don’t know if those people are just stupid, or if you picked a fool.”

“Fools are easy to manipulate, but often ruin your plans. It’s the smart ones who truly help you execute them.”

“Assassinating in a hotel was foolish. There are many better methods: poisoning, accidents, theft, or robbery leading to murder—all better than sending someone to kill a foreigner in a hotel, especially in such a sensitive time.”

“You made a mistake, Jardon.”

Sweating and uncomfortable from the cigarette, Jardon lowered his head and murmured hoarsely, “I’m sorry, Mr Lynch. I was wrong.”

His feelings were complex; he thought his actions might be overlooked, but Lynch saw through him easily.

Facing Lynch stirred a special fear; he recalled when Simon brought him and his mother to meet Lynch—Simon, his father and lifelong rival, appeared no stronger than Jardon did now.

A subtle, almost illusory aura radiated from Lynch, affecting Jardon. He regretted coming so hastily.

The butler arrived with drinks and pastries. Lynch took a piece of local fruit jelly cake and bit into it.

Lynch didn’t usually like sweets—they were for children—but fruit jelly cake was an exception.

Made from over a dozen fresh fruit pulps mixed with natural pectin into jelly-like cubes, it tasted delicious.“Tell me your purpose—why have you come to see me?”

He tilted his head slightly toward Jardon. Though it was just a casual look, Jardon felt an overwhelming pressure and suddenly found himself unable to speak.

His real reason for coming was to seek new protection after the failed assassination attempt last night—to secure insurance for his assets.

Unable to persuade Governor Drag for help, he figured Lynch was the only one who might meet him and listen. So he came to try.

But he never expected Lynch would see through everything without him saying a word. How could he even begin to speak now?