The young Count’s words cooled the room’s excitement slightly.

Everyone was too thrilled—making money was so easy, just follow Lynch’s instructions, move a finger, then wait for the payout.

No dealing with cunning merchants who might discover their poverty.

No negotiating with disdainful high nobles, scraping scraps like beggars while pretending gratitude.

No loss of dignity or face, and the money was clean. This made everyone bask in the confidence of I can get rich too.

Money, confidence, and self-affirmation flooded their brains with hormones—they felt like they were soaring.

Until Lynch’s calm expression pulled them back to reality.

Lynch didn’t avoid the issue. “Troubles will come, gentlemen. Do you really think making money off this incident means we have nothing to worry about?”

He shook his head. “His Majesty the Emperor will feel we stabbed him in the back when he needed us most. Most nobles lose money while we profit—they’ll see us as outsiders.”

“Prime Minister, the people—they won’t celebrate our gains while they lose everything. Instead, they’ll hate us. To them, our money was squeezed from their losses. They won’t hold goodwill toward us.”

Lynch’s words snapped the nobles from blind joy. He was direct, no cryptic hints for guessing.

He spoke plainly so even the less experienced nobles could understand.

He described the reality: just switching roles would give the negative feelings he mentioned.

If someone took their money now, they’d hate them, whoever they were.

“What should we do, Mr. Lynch?” the young Count asked, thoughtful about what to do if this happened.

He gave up overthinking, trusting Lynch had a solution.

“Yes, I do, and that’s why I’m telling you.” Lynch looked at the others. Despite feeling pressure from his calm gaze, no one avoided eye contact.

They still trusted him—for now.

“Whether the Emperor or Prime Minister wins, our position will be awkward. They won’t let us keep this money—it belongs to the Empire or the people, in their eyes.”

“So we must handle this money before they realize.”

The atmosphere grew heavier. Few believed Lynch’s warning fully but felt his logic made sense.

Lynch calmly continued, “Don’t worry, I’m not asking you to transfer or give away the money. You need to invest it.”

Investment was one of Lynch’s best ideas. He dared short the Gephra financial index because he had considered these issues first.

Many international funds avoid Gephra because it’s a feudal monarchy. Money flows in easily but is hard to get out.

The Emperor’s word can block funds from leaving—no matter how much they earn here, if the Emperor disapproves, it’s wasted effort.

Worse, their capital gets trapped, leading to total loss.

Gephra has done this before, as have the Federation and many countries.

Before strong internationalism and large-scale interstate wars, harvesting foreign wealth was normal.

Ninety percent of countries have done this, including Nagaryll.

The Magulana Governor wanted to seize Lynch’s wealth, triggering later events.

If he hadn’t wanted to stop Lynch’s local investments and plunder his wealth, or treated it as a one-time deal for industrial equipment, the New Nagaryll wouldn’t have emerged.

Greed ruined him. He thought Lynch was insignificant, mistaking his own reflection in a mirror for an ant.

So Lynch was sure from the start the money couldn’t leave, yet he did it anyway—shorting Gephra’s index to make a fortune. This wasn’t just to prove something; he had a plan.

Since the money can’t be moved and may provoke the Emperor’s hostility, the answer is investment.

Gephra has a unique place called the Imperial District. Amellia’s development is booming, with many reconstruction projects open for bidding.

The nobles’ power there is weak, so many nobles are hesitant.

Merchants have flocked there, cutting ties with noble powers. They don’t need to bow to other nobles or find a master.

It’s a free environment. Though competition is fierce and business tough, it attracts merchants.

If Lynch leads these young nobles to invest heavily in Amellia as a show of support, the money can be recovered.

The Emperor can’t stop investments there; in fact, he wants more investors to boost Amellia’s economy quickly and effectively.

He even wants Lynch and his group to profit, encouraging other nobles to follow and shifting the Empire’s focus.

This has all been planned from the start. Lynch isn’t worried about making money he can’t move; few can stop him if he tries.

When Lynch proposed investment, the nobles didn’t show joy immediately. After generations, they hadn’t mastered investment.

Becoming a noble isn’t easy. Merchants can rise socially, but few nobles started as merchants.

The struggle between nobles and capital dates back to the lords’ era. Merchants smuggled banned goods like weapons and armor, sometimes sparking wars.

Nobles disliked merchants and never set formal rules, but everyone knew merchants rarely became nobles, no matter their achievements.

These young nobles were inexperienced; their investments were often outsourced with poor results.

If it went well, they wouldn’t be so poor, rarely holding social gatherings.

When Lynch spoke of investing, they instinctively resisted—not out of refusal, but because they’d been burned by banks’ advisors and pushy merchants before.

“Mr. Lynch, what kind of project do you plan to invest in?” a noble cautiously asked.

Lynch glanced at him and smiled. “If it were me, I’d invest in any industry that can occupy large amounts of land in Amellia.”

The questioning noble fell silent. The others watched Lynch eagerly, as if subtly saying, “Go ahead, enlighten us.”

Nobles are better at persuasion than commoners—Lynch already understood this from another world.

Some people hear unbelievable news, like a certain tycoon being scammed out of millions or tens of millions, sparking brief public debate: “How could someone that stupid make so much money?”

To the lower classes, these scammed tycoons seem clueless, unable to see obvious scams.

But it’s not like that; it’s just that the wealthy—nobles—are easier to fool.

A poor man with only a hundred bucks—no matter what, you can’t easily trick him out of it. That hundred might be everything, even his survival.

But to tycoons, millions are trivial.

They’re willing to risk a tiny fraction of their wealth chasing a dream—what if it’s not a scam?

Rich people and nobles are alike—they don’t mind betting a little money on a hope or a dream. It’s not really gambling.

If they win, a small investment brings a great reward—they don’t lose.

If they lose, it’s just a trivial loss. The disappointment hurts more than the money lost.

Ordinary people guessing what rich people think with common mindsets is foolish.

If you’re not rich, you’ll never understand that sometimes wealth isn’t really worth much—especially in front of a dream.