Blackstone Code-Chapter 692: Bargaining

Lynch knew how terrifying hunger could be—he had gone on a hunger strike before.

Back then, he was still young, unaware of life’s meaning or value. He naïvely saw starvation as a final act of defiance. Even now, the memory sent chills down his spine.

Mark didn’t understand any of this. He hadn’t experienced it. He probably still naïvely believed that people traded their dignity for food simply because they didn’t want to work—when in fact, they just wanted to survive.

The convoy soon disappeared at the end of the empty street.

After lunch, Lynch didn’t give Mark much of a break. They went straight to a factory on the outskirts of Zhuris to inspect the premises.

There were food factories and vacant facilities within the city, but Lynch didn’t like those. Governor Sedel had mentioned plans to redevelop all of Zhuris, starting from the Imperial District and extending outward for several kilometers—everything would eventually be demolished or relocated.

Amellia was a special imperial zone under Gephra—essentially a showcase to the world. Whether Gephrans were brutal, foolish, or arrogant would all be on display here.

The Emperor had recently taken a strange, unpredictable stance—likely due to mounting pressure. After all, people kept blaming him for the rise of the Federation.

Well, that was a joke—but Zhuris was indeed facing major changes.

When the time came, there would be no such thing as compensation for relocation. This wasn’t the Federation, nor was it some other world. At best, they’d offer a pittance—and everything else would be a long, drawn-out process: demolition, relocation, reconstruction, resettlement, resuming operations—all of it took time.

Setting up in the suburbs was simpler, more efficient, and untouched by future plans.

The factory they visited wasn’t small. Before the war, it specialized in making hats, with several production lines. After the war broke out, it was converted to produce military supplies.

After defeat, everything inside was stripped and taken away—only an empty shell remained. The factory owner had no idea what to do next. His country had left him with nothing but this hollow building.

“There are three workshops and two warehouses. At most, it can hold 400 to 500 workers operating simultaneously,” the owner explained, walking them through the factory’s once-glorious history. “At our peak, we made 2,000 hats a day. Even at our lowest, we made over 100 daily. We also did subcontracting for other leather goods…”

This place had been the dream of three generations—his grandfather, father, and himself.

From the proud and nostalgic expression on his face, it was clear how much it meant to him.

“…Until the war broke out. Then everything ended.” His voice grew heavier. “They forced us to make steel helmets, canteens, waterproof cases. They dismantled and hauled away my machines, and even made me cover my workers’ wages.”

“In the end, they took everything. All that was left was this empty space. Mr. Lynch, Mr. Mark—do you understand how that feels?”

His emotions surged. His face twisted with a bitter smile, eyes reddening. “I went bankrupt. And the worst part is—it wasn’t Gephra that ruined me. It was my own country. They abandoned me and took everything.”

“That’s why I didn’t leave like the others. Even if I had, I wouldn’t have known what to do. Just saying these things might get me accused of being a Gephran spy and hung.”

He took a deep breath, eyes closed, then slowly exhaled and opened his eyes. “Apologies—I got a bit carried away.”

“I understand,” Lynch said calmly, gesturing to the buildings. “How much are you asking for this place?”

The factory owner looked at the buildings that had carried three generations’ dreams, glanced at the faded slogans on the wall, then scoffed, shook his head, and looked away. “It’s about 20,000 square meters. Convenient transportation, close to both the station and the port. Minimum… fifty thousand Gael.”

After Gephra occupied the area, they enforced the use of the Gael currency through the Concession Currency Law. After an initial period of resistance, it became the standard. There was no longer any pushback.

“That’s too much,” Lynch said, shaking his head. “That’s nearly ninety thousand Sol. It’s not worth that.”

The factory owner calmly kicked a stone on the ground. “Mr. Lynch, what’s your offer, then?”

“I can give you nine thousand Sol—five thousand Gael.”

Mark had been thinking Lynch might offer thirty-five thousand, maybe settle at forty—that seemed like a reasonable negotiation. But Lynch had just cut off a zero.

The factory owner was stunned. He stared at Lynch like he didn’t understand the language. His hair practically curled into question marks under the breeze.

“Sorry, did you say… five thousand Gael?” he asked in disbelief. When Lynch nodded, his emotions surged again. “That’s impossible, Mr. Lynch. Five thousand Gael doesn’t even cover renovation costs, let alone the land this factory sits on!”

“I’ve heard the Governor has plans for urban expansion. Once that happens, the land value here will skyrocket. I’m only offering this price as a favor to a friend,” he added, glancing at the acquaintance nearby who had already sided with the Federals.

Suddenly, he felt this wasn’t a good deal. These Federals were even more ruthless—he’d never encountered bargaining like this in his life.

Lynch waited for him to finish, then stomped the ground. “The land isn’t worth much,” he said. The owner started to argue, but Lynch raised a hand. “Hear me out, friend.”

“To you, to the Gephrans, there are two things worth the least.”

“One is human life—a bullet costs about forty cents of Gael to take a life.”

“The second is land.”

“Once a person is dead, the land becomes unclaimed.”

The owner’s expression darkened. He couldn’t tell if Lynch was warning or threatening him—but whatever the intent, the message was clear.

Lynch didn’t stop. “Second, right now many people in Amellia are out of work. If I hire a thousand workers to rebuild the place, pay them one coin each, I could reconstruct everything for three thousand.”

“As for materials… they’re everywhere.” 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝚠𝕖𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝕖𝚕.𝚌𝗼𝗺

“So I believe five thousand Gael is a fair price. You’re not just selling a not-so-valuable property—you’re getting hard cash and, more importantly, my friendship.”

“Think about it. Let me know when you’ve made up your mind. I’ll be right over there…”

With that, he walked off with Mark, who followed behind, watching Lynch like he was seeing him for the first time.

Back in the Federation, Lynch always seemed like a decent, polite gentleman. You rarely saw this kind of calculated aggression in him. But now—Mark had seen it.

Lynch had repeatedly used the threat of frightening consequences to pressure others. Mark couldn’t tell if those were just threats—or promises.

“I had someone look around. We don’t need to buy new machines—there are some nearby. They’ll be delivered tomorrow. I’ve already recruited the workers. You just need to get production going as soon as possible.”

Mark’s palms were sweaty. His expression looked like he was seriously constipated. “Things here are complicated. I’m not sure I can handle it.”

Lynch smiled and patted his arm. “You have the experience. And I believe you can do it. Right?”

Mark hesitated for a long time before finally nodding. “I’ll do my best.”

“That’s more like it. There’s nothing that hard work can’t solve. And if you fail, it just means you haven’t worked hard enough…”

As Lynch was promoting some nutritious soups, the factory owner seemed to have made up his mind. He walked over on his own, looked at Lynch for a while, sighed, and extended his hand. “It’s yours.”

“You won’t regret this decision—I can guarantee it.”

The driver then handed over five thousand Gael to the owner. He looked at the money in his hand, lips twitching.

He wanted to curse.

If his homeland and the Gephrans had shattered the dreams of his family across three generations, then Lynch was the man who smashed those broken dreams to the ground and stomped on them.

Three generations of dreams—worth only five thousand!

In a time of chaos, dreams really were worth next to nothing.

After settling everything, Lynch returned early the next morning.

Because he arrived so early, he unexpectedly ran into a familiar young man—a driver from Nagaryll he had met a few times.

Akumari had been reflecting a lot lately. The changes in Amellia made him realize that violence could never bring lasting peace. He had started studying the Federation’s society again.

He found that the Federation’s stability didn’t come from violence. On the contrary, its people valued freedom, peace, and equality more than anyone else.

He was eager to understand the Federation more deeply. When he saw Lynch, he suddenly wanted to talk to him.

Seeing the truck driver standing not far away, wanting to approach but clearly hesitant, Lynch waved him over.

Many times, Lynch could be a kind, approachable, gentle, compassionate, and benevolent man.

Like now.