Blackstone Code-Chapter 615: A One-Sol Deal

The federal government has a rule: to prevent corruption among its staff, all items that need to be auctioned must go through a third party, such as a bank.

At the same time, judicial authorities have the right to oversee the entire auction process to ensure there’s no foul play.

In fact, not only can judicial departments entrust banks with auctions, individuals can too.

Lynch wouldn’t handle these matters personally. He doesn’t have experts or professional firms for this sort of work. In other words, he couldn’t accurately assess the value of any collateral Mr. Herbes offered. So, he handed the task over to the bank.

He didn’t need the bank to auction the assets—just to appraise them and store all related documents and items in the bank’s vault.

Ordinary people couldn’t get banks to do that. Though banks seem to serve the public, they actually hold ordinary people in the least regard.

They bow and scrape to the wealthy, but act high and mighty toward regular folks. Even time is priced openly—at the VIP lounge.

The poor might spend an entire day waiting in line, but the rich get the best service at any time. Lynch was one of those VIPs.

Herbes’s people would deliver his valuables—the appraisable ones—to the bank for evaluation. Once that was complete, Lynch would sign a mortgage loan agreement with him, and then the federal government would issue the funds.

Was it a trap?

Absolutely. Even if Mr. Herbes knew it was a trap, he had to jump in.

Because jumping in was his only shot at survival. He was betting that his own cunning could outplay Lynch’s scheming. As long as he liquidated the entire ten billion Valier quickly, he might recover 10 to 20 million Federal Sol.

That was his estimate based on fire-sale prices. In reality, the Valier-to-Federal Sol exchange rate hadn’t even dropped to 200:1 yet. But trying to cash out at market prices was nearly impossible.

With the Nagaryll situation in flux and panic selling already underway, even those who might try to bottom fish would wait. They’d only act when the market was completely dead—when Valier had sunk to the bottom, buried in silt.

For now, they were content to watch Valier crash.

To convince anyone to take the bait, you had to be willing to go all in—and that was precisely why Mr. Herbes couldn’t refuse when Lynch threw out “ten billion.”

At the current international rate, that equaled about 60 million Federal Sol. If he broke his own legs and sold it all for 20 million—or even 15 million—he could still scrape together at least 10 to 20 million.

That amount was enough to patch most of his financial holes—and maybe even leave a little surplus.

Even if he ended up with less, just enough to cover investor losses and take some of the hit himself, the investors would stay intact.

And as long as investors didn’t suffer heavy losses, they’d start to believe things like: Mr. Herbes turned the tide in the face of disaster with his skillful maneuvering. He minimized losses. His ability and character are incredible—we should keep investing with him.

They’d trust him even more than before. With that money, there was still hope of making a comeback.

That’s why he had to grit his teeth and take the leap, even knowing it might be a trap.

Bank appraisers would squeeze him dry—push valuations to the limit to extract the last drop of value.

After walking out of the hotel, Mr. Herbes’s demeanor shifted. The weakness he showed in front of Lynch was gone. Surprisingly, he had become resolute.

Standing by the car, he glanced back at the hotel, as if his eyes could pierce through the sunlit glass and stare directly at Lynch’s face.

Moments later, he got in the car and left quickly.

Back home, he contacted asset management firms around the country, instructing them to compile asset statements. At the same time, he had his butler prepare a substantial gift—a truly valuable one. He was going to visit the Minister of Finance.

Aside from the 10 billion in Lynch’s hands, Herbes still had one last hope—the wager between him and Lynch.

If he could get the Gephra government to refuse redemption of Lynch’s bonds, those bonds would become his. He’d recover all losses, with some profit left over.

Soon, he arrived outside the Minister of Finance’s residence. After a brief wait, the butler led him in.

It was a grand house. These aristocratic homes were centuries old—older than the Federation itself. When they were built, this area wasn’t yet bustling, so they sprawled across vast land.

As a result, the entire area to the left of the imperial palace for several kilometers was filled with mansions like these.

After waiting about twenty minutes, Mr. Herbes was shown into the study to meet the Minister.

“Apologies, I had an important call just now…” the Minister explained his delay.

Though he apologized, his tone lacked sincerity—as if casually tossing out an excuse. There was even a hint of arrogance.

The Gephrans were always like this. Their arrogance gradually emerged whenever they faced people of other races.

“No problem. Your business is far more important than mine,” Mr. Herbes replied with a flattering smile. He placed a case on the desk. “I heard you like collecting rare and curious things. I happen to have something quite special here…”

When he opened the case, a burst of colorful light shimmered out. Even the usually composed Minister of Finance showed signs of emotion.

Seeing his reaction, Herbes—though heartbroken—secretly breathed a sigh of relief.

“The Crown of Clane!” the Minister exclaimed. He started to reach out, then hesitated. He opened a drawer, pulled out thin gloves, and only then picked it up.

It was a crown, its frame crafted from gold and set with ninety-nine gemstones—some of which were no longer in production.

Beyond its material worth, its artistic, historical, and cultural value was immense.

There were also many legends surrounding it—blessings or curses, and its rarity lent it an air of mystery.

Purely in terms of price, it wasn’t even that expensive. It had last sold publicly for just over a million Gael. The catch was, no one knew who owned it—and even if they did, that person likely wouldn’t sell.

“It’s stunning!” the Minister exclaimed repeatedly. For someone like him, money might stir mild interest, but not passion.

Only rare, unique artifacts could truly move him. He examined it over and over while Herbes stood by silently. Over ten minutes passed before he reluctantly placed it back in the case.

“It’s real. Where did you get it?” the Minister asked, now shifting his attention to Herbes. Half-jokingly, he added, “I’m going to charge you an appraisal fee, you know. I don’t normally do these things for free. You’d better pay well.”

Though it sounded like a joke, it was a test. He knew Herbes hadn’t come here just for an appraisal. But if he had to ask for it, that meant he owed Herbes a huge favor—possibly one that couldn’t be repaid with just one or two gestures. And he’d lose the upper hand.

But since Mr. Herbes offered the gift voluntarily, the balance of power shifted—now the Minister could even afford to be selective.

He smiled at Mr. Herbes, who didn’t dare act casually at such a moment. His face immediately lit up with a smile. “As long as it’s genuine, that’s good enough. But I really can’t afford your appraisal fee. How about this…”

“How about I just gift it to you? If it stays with me, I’ll only lock it in a safe. But in your hands, it can be seen and appreciated by more people. That’s an honor for the crown itself.”

The Minister’s expression brightened, a wide smile spreading across his face. “That doesn’t seem quite proper…”

“It’s perfectly proper,” Mr. Herbes replied as he closed the case and pushed it forward.

The Minister glanced at the case and nodded slightly. “A gift might give the wrong impression. People might think there’s some deal behind the scenes. Let’s do this—you name a price, and I’ll buy it from you.”

No matter how bitter Mr. Herbes felt inside, he could only keep smiling. “Then one Sol will do.”

After handing over a single coin, the Minister carefully put the crown away, then leisurely asked, “You came all this way just for this? I feel a bit guilty…”

He looked at Mr. Herbes, who finally smiled and got to the real reason for his visit. “Actually, there’s something else I’d like to ask of you…”