Darkstone Code-Chapter 883 - 881: Communication Is One of the Effective Ways to Solve Problems

Chapter 883: Chapter 881: Communication Is One of the Effective Ways to Solve Problems

A vibrant life vanished before everyone’s eyes, and these pirates finally put some pressure on the tycoons onboard.

Just one?

Indeed, in the eyes of these capitalists, they were no longer seen as people, or at least not in the purest sense; they were a new species above humans in the social hierarchy.

No matter how many people from the lower class died, it wouldn’t faze them at all, because people, this cheap commodity, were everywhere around the world.

They were merely... consumables.

Only when capitalists suffered casualties would they start to feel fear.

"I think I’ve seen this gentleman in the newspapers!", Beret pointed his gun at a guest who looked familiar to him.

Two armed robbers escorted the person onto the small stage, still using the same game as before.

Beret reached into a box full of bullets, grabbed a handful, "Come on, guess how many bullets I have in my hand?"

With the earlier demonstration by the first participant, this gentleman signed a check for three million almost without resistance.

"I guess you have thirty bullets in hand..."

Beret was quite satisfied with this price; he counted each bullet, and when he reached the last one, the twenty-sixth, everyone sighed in relief.

Yet they also felt a bit tense because the first was twenty-one, this one twenty-six, and would there be more next time?

No one could guarantee that Beret couldn’t grab more bullets, or even possibly scoop with both hands, which made people realize that getting on stage early could save money!

Saving money is earning money!

"Seems like this gentleman and lady got lucky, you’ve passed this round!", Beret took the check from the tycoon and handed it to the soldier beside him.

"You can go back now, the next one..."

"I am willing to donate..."

Someone stepped forward early, which made Beret suddenly laugh out loud after a momentary shock.

He originally thought nothing could make these tycoons lose their cool, but it turned out they just had the wrong approach at the start.

These people only cherished their own lives, as long as you could prove you had the courage to kill them, they would submit.

Just like here and now.

"I’ll donate three million!"

"Me too, I’ll donate three million two hundred thousand!"

Plenty of tycoons, especially the younger ones, couldn’t keep calm; their fear of death was evidently stronger than that of the older individuals.

Their lives were just beginning, with endless time to enjoy the pleasures money brings, they weren’t willing to exit early.

It’s just some money, no need to let others find an excuse to hurt them, especially when their lives were far more valuable than several million!

Beret laughed heartily as he took one check after another, looking at the people feeling they were extremely adorable, while some crazy thoughts began to grow in his mind. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝙬𝙚𝓫𝒏𝓸𝓿𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝙤𝓶

If it worked this time, doesn’t it mean it could happen again?

It’s too profitable!

These Federation tycoons were too rich, in just this short while he had amassed tens of millions of Federation Sols, money that he could never earn on his own in a lifetime.

But here, obtaining them was so simple, his gaze gradually became more greedy.

He suddenly noticed someone smoking in the distance, that young and handsome guy who was alone and hadn’t donated any money.

This made him curious, but also began stirring the uncontrollable brutality within him; he pushed through the crowd and pointed his gun at the young man, "Hey, come here, everyone else donated, why didn’t you?"

He spoke with a mocking and ironic tone, like a cat toying with a mouse, at least that’s what he thought.

Lynch strolled up to the front of the crowd, not at all afraid of Beret, just looking at him calmly, "Do you want a check?"

He pulled out his checkbook and a pen, "I can write you a check filled with numbers on the entire page, but what’s the point?"

"Do you want it?"

With a cigarette held at the corner of his mouth, gently biting the filter, one hand was free to draw circles, more specifically, zeroes, on the checkbook.

Beret was stunned, quickly glanced at the soldier beside him, then back at Lynch, "What do you mean?"

Lynch tore off the check, put the checkbook and pen back into his pocket, offering the check full of zeroes, "A trillion, is it enough, or you could add more zeros."

Beret suddenly stepped forward, pressing his gun to Lynch’s forehead, opening his foul-smelling mouth... although his teeth were quite white, "What the hell do you mean?"

He glared at Lynch, but Lynch was taller, making it ironically seem like Beret was the weaker party, which was quite bizarre.

Lynch fearlessly inserted the check into the edge of Beret’s beret, "That’s exactly what I mean. Take these checks to the bank, and you won’t be able to withdraw a single cent!"

Beret withdrew his pistol. He strode over to his assistant and took the checks that were placed with him, flipping through them one by one without any issues.

Each check looked identical to those he had seen before, filled in with dates, amounts, and the personal signatures of wealthy individuals. He had seen Federation checks and even specifically acquired a couple before this heist.

There appeared to be no difference, at least none that he could discern.

"You fucking tricked me!" he said as he walked back to Lynch, holding a gun to Lynch’s head, as if ready to pull the trigger at any moment.

Lynch chuckled, shaking his head. He raised his hand, using two fingers to push Beret’s gun aside gently.

"If I were you, I wouldn’t do anything foolish. I might be the only one here who’s genuinely cooperating with you."

"I assume you’d prefer to leave here with money and live the rest of your life on the run, rather than end up with nothing and die miserably on the roadside, right?"

"At least you could get something, even if it’s temporary."

Beret stared intently at Lynch. He couldn’t see through the young man before him.

His instincts screamed at him not to believe a word the young man was saying, but his rationale told him he needed to hear him out.

"What’s your name?"

Beret once again holstered his gun, now seemingly speaking to Lynch as an equal.

"Lynch. You might know me."

Realization flickered across Beret’s face. "The youngest billionaire, newspapers say you have a billion. Is that true?"

Amidst the crowd, someone perhaps dissatisfied with some of Lynch’s remarks, or jealous of the friendliness and equality the robber showed Lynch, instinctively scoffed.

Beret’s gaze immediately shifted from Lynch’s face to the direction of the laughter.

There was no smile on his face, nor was it a ferocious one. Instead, it appeared even more intimidating, creating a pressing sense of tension.

"If anyone fucking interrupts me again, I’ll kill them!"

He turned back, looked at Lynch, meeting his gaze.

Lynch didn’t avert his eyes. They looked at each other for a moment, and Beret saw nothing in Lynch’s eyes that indicated guilt or deceit that might have altered his stance.

Back in Mariluo, whenever someone betrayed him, he only needed to look into their eyes before they couldn’t withstand the pressure and would start to avert their gaze.

But Lynch didn’t; he remained so composed, so calm, which convinced Beret to believe Lynch.

"Then what do you mean by your words?"

Lynch glanced sideways at the crowd below the small stage and softly said, "Someone already interrupted our conversation. They’ll probably do it again. Why don’t we find a quiet place? Just us, you can bring however many you want, and we can talk?"

Beret paced a few steps, nodding. After quietly saying something to his assistant, he gestured with his gun for Lynch to "follow me." The two headed toward a nearby bar.

"Everyone out!"

Several soldiers were at the open-air bar, reeking strongly of alcohol.

They’d just been through intense firefighting, and this was the time for soldiers to relax.

Previously, he’d also attempted to set strict rules like some national military forces, but it resulted in people either running away or going insane, killing their own, so eventually, he gave up.

As long as they could win battles, he wouldn’t interfere with whatever they wanted to do after.

The soldiers cheerfully took away a lot of booze. Beret casually grabbed a bottle and two glasses, pouring some for Lynch voluntarily.

While pouring, he said, "What did you mean by what you said earlier? Why can’t I get that money?"

Lynch made a "give me one" gesture, then, taking a check from Beret’s hand, looked at a three-million check.

"You know, the biggest problem with this check is the date."

"We’ve been missing during the time these transfer checks were signed. Everyone either knows it or doesn’t know what’s happened. If the bank doesn’t get confirmation of our safety, you won’t be able to use this check initially."

"Secondly, whoever takes this check to the bank becomes a suspect... or is branded a robber."

"Whether you have these or not makes no difference. So, as I said, I could write you any amount because I know you actually can’t do anything with them."

After hearing that, Beret slammed the bar with the handle of his gun, "Damn it, you capitalists are fucking despicable!"

The reasoning Lynch laid out wasn’t some universal truth. It was as simple as explaining that one plus one equals two, something so straightforward that anyone could understand.

Luckily, Beret seemed reasonably intelligent, as he also understood.

He’d been played by those wealthy individuals!

He chugged down the drink from his glass and smashed it forcefully on the ground, getting up as if to approach those affluent people, "I’ll kill them!"