Blackstone Code-Chapter 701: Divorce

The sudden ringing of the phone always felt jarring—sometimes even heart-pounding. 𝑓𝑟ℯ𝘦𝓌𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝑐ℴ𝓂

Lynch stared at it for two seconds, then picked it up.

He had just lifted his pen, ready to write something. Now, there was only a blot of ink on the paper in front of him, no words.

“It’s me…”

“I’m Nail…” came his father’s voice, followed by a short silence. Then it resumed. “If you’re free, you should come back to the Federation. Your mother and I are getting a divorce.”

Lynch wasn’t surprised. From the moment he arrived in this world, Nail and Serra’s marriage had already reached its end.

For many ordinary people, marriage isn’t about love—it’s a social arrangement.

This is the reality most people face: The person I married isn’t the one I love most, but the one I can’t live without.

It sounds abstract, but it’s the truth. If Lynch hadn’t come to this world, the original Lynch would have broken up with Katherine, endured several beatings from society, and matured.

He would have married someone perhaps not beautiful, but suitable for building a quiet life with.

He might have cried alone in the middle of the night or drowned in drunken regret about the past. But that’s life—an ordinary life.

Nail and Serra lived the same way. They weren’t necessarily each other’s true love. Nail needed a woman to build a household and keep things running after work. Serra needed a man who could earn, giving her a stable life, sparing her from degrading jobs and judgmental eyes.

They dated a few times after their first meeting. When they didn’t find any deal-breakers, they decided to marry.

It wasn’t the result of love, nor its grave. There simply wasn’t love to begin with. Love was just a mutually acceptable lie to legitimize the relationship.

They were just getting by—for the sake of getting by.

If Lynch hadn’t shown up.

But he did. Lynch was replaced by Lynch. From that moment, Nail and Serra’s life trajectory changed. They got rich, and with money, there was no need to stay together just to get by.

Nail, now wealthy, gained the right to pursue happiness. He became obsessed with young, pretty girls—symbols of happiness and love in his eyes.

Serra changed too, though not as obviously. She learned to style her hair, take care of her skin, and started working out with the wealthy housewives in her community.

Sounds cliché, but people really do change that fast.

Serra met a smooth-talking younger man and started a new relationship.

If you want a simple way to judge the state of their marriage: just look at how often they slept together.

Before Lynch became rich, it was two or three times a week—more when work was especially stressful.

But in the past year, there had been nothing.

During Nail’s recent vacation back in the Federation, they talked. Both agreed to end the relationship and pursue their own versions of happiness.

Lynch didn’t feel much when he heard it. He’d seen it too many times. This was one of the privileges money brings—you get to choose your happiness, instead of settling.

See how pitiful poverty is? You don’t even get the right to choose happiness.

“I understand. I’ll head back as soon as I can,” Lynch replied calmly.

The call went quiet again. After a while, Nail said softly, “Sorry we didn’t discuss it with you beforehand.”

Lynch curled his lip. “You’re both adults. Don’t apologize to me. We’ll talk in person.”

After hanging up, he gave an order to book a ticket for the same day. By the next evening, he was back on Federal soil.

He didn’t alert anyone. Lynch took an overnight train back to Sabin. By noon the next day, he arrived at the station.

No one knew he had returned. Most still thought he was managing affairs in Amellia.

At Nail and Serra’s villa, Lynch met them both.

It was clear—they had changed a lot from the versions etched in Lynch’s memory.

Nail looked younger. Without grueling physical labor and industrial grime, he was clean-cut and fresh.

Serra also looked years younger. Freed from household chores, she had time to care for her skin and body.

She even practiced yoga or similar stretching exercises now.

Their changes made it hard for them to stay together. The past wasn’t a treasure—wealth was. Poverty wasn’t.

Maybe someday they’d feel nostalgic. But they’d never yearn for those days. No one truly wants to be poor.

Besides Nail and Serra, a few lawyers were present. Lynch had paid them generously. Nail now qualified as a successful man, and Serra had steady monthly deposits in her account.

They could afford private attorneys for the divorce. Not that this case would bring the lawyers much—it wasn’t a contested divorce, no money to squeeze.

When the three of them met, the two elders were awkward. Lynch casually sat on the couch, picked up the agreement, and quickly skimmed it.

He didn’t care about the divorce itself. He went straight to the property division.

Apparently, it was an amicable split. Both sides had compromised.

Nail was willing to give Serra the villa Lynch had gifted them. Serra, in turn, asked for no money—now or later.

Overall, it looked fair. Since Lynch was now an adult, he was excluded from the agreement. None of Nail’s shares or company assets were touched either. Lynch approved.

He set the document down, looked at the pair across from him, and nodded. “No issues. When are you signing?”

A divorce by agreement isn’t the same as a contested divorce. They just had to go to the Social Services Bureau to complete the paperwork, and that would mark the end of their two-decade-long marriage.

Nail looked at Serra. She kept her lips pressed together. In the end, it was Nail who spoke first.

“How about today? I’ve got a lot to take care of. We’ve just brought in a batch of new equipment that’s being calibrated—I really can’t stay away.”

The political shift in Nagaryll and the arrival of the Federal military had reassured the Joint Development Company and Federal investors. Lynch had also increased his investments.

Recently, two rough roads had been built, making it possible to transport heavy machinery. Higher-capacity, more efficient equipment was now being sent to Nagaryll.

The cement factory had received new machines as well—far better than the outdated ones. Nail didn’t feel comfortable leaving them unattended. If it weren’t for the importance of the divorce, he wouldn’t have come back at all.

With that explained, the three of them headed to the Sabin City Social Services Bureau. The staff didn’t recognize Lynch behind his sunglasses, though they did think he was a handsome young man and glanced at him a few more times.

In the Federation, relationships and family matters were extremely private. Even close friends wouldn’t touch on such topics lightly—let alone public servants.

The clerk didn’t try to talk them into reconsidering or cooling off. After confirming their decision, she processed the divorce papers.

The two of them each received a copy of the divorce certificate. As they stood there holding the documents, both looked somewhat sentimental.

At the entrance, Nail suddenly opened his arms and hugged Serra. He said softly, “I wish you freedom—and happiness, my dear.”

Serra’s eyes welled up. It wasn’t clear whether it was reluctance or something else stirring inside her.

They weren’t divorcing out of hatred—their feelings had simply faded. Without bitterness, it was natural for some genuine emotion to surface.

“Thank you. I wish you freedom too, and happiness.”

They let go, just like their blessings: letting each other go, wishing each other freedom.

“I should get going. I’ve got a ticket for tonight,” Nail said, standing on the steps. He felt a sense of relief—and a touch of loss.

Serra nodded. “I won’t try to stop you. I’ll have your things packed up and sent to you—unless you gave me a fake address again.”

Nail suddenly felt awkward, but his eyes reddened slightly. He pressed his lips together and smiled.

“This time it’s real.”

Only the two of them understood what that meant. Back when they had only dated a few times, they’d crossed the line—Serra had gotten pregnant, but Nail wasn’t ready, so he gave her a fake address.

Life is like a circle, a cycle. After going all the way around, it brings you back to the start—and then, maybe, to a new beginning. Or maybe not.