Blackstone Code-Chapter 554: A New Understanding

“This place is huge!” Helen exclaimed, standing beside Lynch, marveling at everything she saw. Even in the dead of winter, the massive courtyard felt like midsummer. She also noticed it wasn’t cold at all—there seemed to be a heating system beneath the tiles.

Off to the side was a large swimming pool, where a few scantily clad girls were playing in the water.

Steam rose from the pool, making it appear cold, but in reality, the water was maintained at a steady 28 degrees Celsius with temperature controls—perfectly warm.

These girls were the kind meant to liven up the atmosphere. People often described them as beautiful vases, and now was exactly the time to prove that label accurate.

They didn’t need to do much throughout the celebration—just exist as visual pleasure through the haze of steam.

The entire courtyard was extravagantly luxurious. Helen couldn’t help but sigh—this was what life was like for the rich.

Every guest who passed by was polite and refined. Wealth had given them better manners. Even someone like Helen, who looked like an ordinary assistant, received polite nods and smiles from some of them.

A large screen had been set up in the courtyard, displaying a live feed from the vote-counting site. Everyone’s attention was fixed on it, watching as workers tallied the ballots under heavy supervision. A tense atmosphere slowly built up.

When the final ballot was counted, the box was emptied and displayed, and the result was about to be announced. The governor stood beneath the screen, his smile gone, replaced by a stern expression.

No matter how confidently he had claimed to believe in the outcome, he was clearly anxious before the official result.

Soon, two staffers handed the final count to the chief justice, who stood up after reading it.

At that moment, the air in the courtyard seemed to thin—everyone held their breath.

Then came the announcement. As the chief justice placed his hand on the legal code and declared the governor re-elected, champagne corks flew through the air, and the estate erupted into celebration.

People raised their glasses and shouted, “To the Governor!”

The governor, standing prominently among the crowd, raised his own glass and drank the champagne in celebration of victory.

It was a predictable win, but that didn’t make it any less joyous. For the interest groups surrounding the governor, it meant more years of prosperity rather than a hasty retreat.

In federal politics, it’s nearly impossible to separate government from capital. Especially at the governor’s level, even if a politician didn’t want to form a personal interest group, one would naturally form around him.

This election, for example—without donations from the people now cheering in the estate, the governor wouldn’t have been able to raise the hundreds of thousands or even millions needed to run.

No campaign means no way to communicate policies to the public, which means no votes, no support, and no victory.

It’s a bottomless pit. A governor’s salary could never support such spending, yet this cycle repeats every few years. That’s why politicians need loyal financial backers—it’s impossible to separate politics from capital. ȒἈΝо₿Ěŝ

The governor’s victory was also a victory for those capitalists. That’s why they were even more excited—more favorable policies meant more profits, the return on their investment.

Suddenly, a phone rang. The governor gestured for silence and smiled as he explained, “That should be the President calling to congratulate me. Please, let’s quiet down for a moment…”

Envious and admiring eyes turned toward him as he answered the call. He was all smiles. Even though the current political climate was difficult and he might face criticism in the coming term, his power and reputation had clearly grown. That outweighed any potential losses.

During the short call, the only word people caught was President, and that was enough to make the crowd go completely silent, not daring to interrupt the call.

Standing on the edge of the crowd, Lynch watched the governor’s performance, expressionless. He neither envied nor resented it.

Next to him, Edwin explained, “This is a necessary procedure. It didn’t used to be, but now it is…”

“I understand,” Lynch nodded, accepting the explanation.

It was a bit shameless, but as Edwin said, in the past, people got elected on their own merits, and the political and economic climate wasn’t as bad. A congratulatory call from the President wasn’t essential.

But things were different now. Critics were bound to attack the governor’s actions and the results of the election.

Every election—mayor, governor, president—ended in prolonged mudslinging. It had become tradition.

Yet this year, the governor’s opponent barely did anything, which led people to accuse the election of being rigged.

A congratulatory call from the President helped calm things down. At least the ignorant public wouldn’t be so easily manipulated into attacking the governor and inventing conspiracy theories.

Lynch had seen this coming. But that’s politics—every move hides sharp intent.

Soon, the governor hung up and loudly shared the contents of the call, announcing that the President had congratulated him on his re-election. The mood grew even more jubilant.

The governor mingled among the crowd. Everyone present had donated generously to his campaign.

He needed to thank them—he would need their money again in the next election.

Over an hour later, the governor finally reached Lynch. He looked tipsy, his face slightly flushed. Even before getting close, he reached out his hand.

Lynch handed his glass to Helen and shook hands with him.

“Thank you so much for coming, Lynch!” the governor said warmly. His hand was warm and firm, giving a sense of security.

Lynch smiled. “No one in this state is better suited for the role than you. I should be the one thanking you for inviting me.”

The governor laughed heartily. “I know you’re just saying that to make me happy, but I really appreciate your support. Without it, I might not have won.”

That wasn’t wrong. His opponent’s lack of effort was one thing, but if the governor himself had performed poorly, he wouldn’t have been re-elected.

After a few standard pleasantries, they released hands. But the governor didn’t leave—he brought up another topic.

“You’ve done well in Nagaryll. Next month or so, I’ll organize a delegation of state officials and business leaders to visit there. I might trouble you to receive them.”

He glanced around at the ongoing celebration and lowered his voice. “The situation in the state is still serious. Some areas are doing better, but the better-off are just idle. Waiting for the market to fix itself isn’t realistic. We need them to look for opportunities elsewhere.”

He smiled, but his eyes were resolute. Waiting for things to improve domestically was a dead end. Seeking growth abroad was the only path forward.

That strategy had already proven effective, so he would now push even the unwilling to go abroad.

“I’ll cooperate,” Lynch said.

“Anyway, thank you. Thank you all,” the governor said, shaking Lynch’s hand again. “I need to step away to greet others. We’ll talk more later.” He nodded politely to Edwin and Helen before leaving.

After he left, Mr. Edwin gestured to Lynch with a let’s walk and talk motion. The two of them headed toward the back of the courtyard.

Helen hesitated for a moment, then stayed behind. Only Edwin and Lynch continued on.

“Recently, a few more companies have declared bankruptcy,” Edwin began with bad news. “Limited orders can’t solve the broader economic issues, so the governor plans to adopt the strategy you suggested—expanding outward.”

“But you know how the public always holds a bias against this kind of approach. No matter how we explain it, some people will insist it’s a scheme between the federal government and certain businessmen to move assets offshore.”

As he spoke, a mocking smile appeared on Edwin’s face. “So we can’t be too blatant or direct. Ideally, someone from Nagaryll would send us an invitation to conduct a site visit. You understand what I mean, right?”

“I’ll have someone arrange it. Do you want the invitation to come from the provincial level, or from the royal family?”

Lynch understood perfectly—it was like taking off your pants to fart. It seemed unnecessary, but don’t assume it truly is.

When you’re healthy, you know whether you’re about to fart or something worse.

But when you’re unwell, you can’t tell what’s coming, and you don’t dare risk it. In that case, taking off your pants to fart becomes the safest move.

It’s stupid—but at least you don’t end up with a mess.