Lynch and his group didn’t interact with anyone else, and the others clearly wanted to keep their distance too.

If the Internal Affairs Inspectors mistook them for opportunists, they might get dragged down as well.

So they just sat there for over an hour. Though they didn’t speak with anyone, they overheard most of the surrounding conversations.

It all boiled down to two points:

First, support His Majesty the Emperor.

Second, support the Prime Minister.

The young Count glanced at Lynch, wanting to speak but holding back—until Lynch noticed and looked at him.

Understanding his gaze, the young Count finally voiced his question. “Mr. Lynch, will the Prime Minister definitely win?”

The dominant view in today’s Privy Council session was to select a new noble as its representative, giving them a powerful position in the Hall of Rule.

Many nobles seemed to like the idea. A lot of them felt it was time to restore the Privy Council’s importance. It couldn’t just be a retirement home anymore—it needed to wield real power.

And that power would begin with control.

A new Minister of Finance could draw staff from the Privy Council and fill key positions. Since these nobles had worked together for so long, they knew each other well and wouldn’t worry about loyalty or competence.

This idea had gained far more support than the proposal to let the Prime Minister also serve as Finance Minister. So the young Count’s doubt was understandable.

Admiration was one thing—it didn’t mean he was a fool.

Lynch let him ask the question to help ease the group’s worries.

If Lynch explained unprompted why he believed the Prime Minister still had the upper hand, it would sound forced—like he was making excuses.

But if someone else asked and he simply answered, it would feel natural.

“The Finance Minister is a very particular role. He cannot belong to any faction and must remain isolated from other ministers,” Lynch said with a smile.

“If the Finance Minister starts building his own noble faction, he’ll become everyone’s enemy—Prime Minister and Emperor alike.”

The job of guarding the treasury exists to keep the wrong hands out. But that treasury can’t develop its own will or form a power bloc of its own.

That would threaten the interests of every other minister, since their budgets come from the treasury—controlled by the Finance Minister.

If he had his own allies, the others would struggle to get funding. The Finance Minister could resist them or even use it as leverage to force concessions.

So anyone could form a power base—except the Finance Minister. He could only mind his own small territory.

In fact, the previous Finance Minister’s open and shameless corruption wasn’t arrogance—it was a defense mechanism.

Whether it was the Emperor or the Prime Minister, they wouldn’t need to dig for evidence—he already had enough dirt on himself to shield him. That was how he stayed a neutral party.

If the Privy Council’s old nobles got that post, it would be a disaster.

Their resentment wasn’t a joke. For years, the Council had been a place to retire. To say the nobles had no complaints would be absurd.

They had once been at the center of power—then were pushed out. If they regained influence, could anyone expect them to stay calm?

Of course not. Especially considering over 80% of the empire’s noble class was in the Privy Council, including many hereditary lords whose roots ran just as deep as the ministers in the Hall of Rule.

United, they wouldn’t just be a political force—they’d be a tidal wave.

Even if all the ministers joined forces, they might not stand a chance. And they wouldn’t be seizing control of a minor office, but the treasury.

Whether it’s the military, the Prime Minister, or the Emperor—want money from the treasury?

Sure, but first let the Privy Council hold a meeting. How much? When? How? Let’s talk after the meeting.

Struggle? Power games?

Unless the ministers and the Emperor wanted a full-scale war with the majority of the empire’s nobles, they’d best tread lightly.

The surrounding lesser nobles stared at Lynch, dumbfounded. They never imagined such a deep political struggle behind the scenes, which only confirmed Lynch’s judgment.

There was no way the Finance Minister would come from the Privy Council. The Prime Minister’s victory was certain. From the start, there had never been any suspense.

Even the Emperor knew the Prime Minister would win. He was just using the time to make deals, trade favors, and broker compromises.

He might also have wanted to use this opportunity to win over nobles from the Council. Once the Prime Minister took the treasury, rumors would spread.

Rumors like the Prime Minister stabbed the Council in the back. That pain could push some nobles back toward the Emperor.

When the next chance came—after all, the Prime Minister wasn’t young anymore—he wouldn’t have many years left in office. Then the Emperor could reclaim control of the treasury.

With more nobles behind him, the next Prime Minister would stand no chance against the Emperor.

The struggle between Gephra’s nobles and the Emperor was a time-honored tradition, and everyone played their part with relish. Beneath the surface calm, thunder echoed.

How interesting.

“So,” Lynch said, crossing his legs and shaking his head again, “the Prime Minister will absolutely take control of the treasury. The Emperor will definitely give way. There are some parts I haven’t figured out yet, but that’s not important.”

“These things have nothing to do with us. As long as we keep our money, that’s enough.”

“And money—will only become more important.”

His analysis was sound, his reasoning solid, his predictions accurate. People trusted his judgment, and their anxiety melted away.

That afternoon, the Emperor was reviewing documents when the Royal Chamberlain suddenly interrupted.

“Your Majesty, Baron Lynch requests an audience.”

The Emperor’s lips curled into a smug smile. He assumed Lynch had come to beg.

Ever since that little bastard came to Gephra, a string of uncanny events had unfolded, giving him endless headaches. He’d long wanted to punch Lynch in the face.

But now, Lynch was here to plead. The young man who never respected anyone must have finally seen the looming crisis.

His Majesty the Emperor recalled a line from a book: “No matter how many times you lose, it doesn’t matter—as long as you win the last time, all those failures become the best embellishments to your success.”

He felt it perfectly described his struggle with Lynch. Though calling it a struggle was a stretch—he didn’t see it that way. It was… a confrontation.

Sure, Lynch had bested him many times. But this time, he had won.

Once Lynch was bankrupted and stripped of everything, he’d never set foot in Gephra again. The Emperor even planned to send someone to the Federation to mock him publicly, exposing his misdeeds and making him a laughingstock.

Thinking of that satisfying future, he set his work aside and took off his glasses. “Let him in.”

Soon, Lynch arrived outside the study.

He knocked on the door, and his knock echoed slightly through the room. 𝑓𝘳𝘦𝑒𝑤𝑒𝘣𝘯ℴ𝘷𝘦𝓁.𝑐𝑜𝑚

Though it was called a study, it looked more like a small library. The Emperor sat at its center. Glancing at Lynch, he gestured for him to enter and ordered the chamberlain to bring tea and pastries.

“Is there something you’d like to tell me?” the Emperor asked with a slight smile, waiting for Lynch to beg. “Maybe I can offer you a bit of help.”

But Lynch didn’t grovel or repent as he expected.

Instead, he placed a document folder at the edge of the Emperor’s desk, gesturing for him to take a look.

Curious, the Emperor picked it up and drew out a document titled Investment Proposal.

“Investment?” the Emperor raised an eyebrow, then tossed the document back onto the desk without reading further, his expression cooling. “That’s what you came to tell me?”

Just then, the chamberlain entered with tea and pastries. Lynch thanked him politely before he left.

Once the door closed, Lynch sat back, crossed his legs, and sipped his tea, looking completely relaxed. “Yes. My friends and I—you know, we just made a lot of money.”

The Emperor scoffed. “Is that so?”

Lynch, unfazed, responded as if oblivious to the Emperor’s tone. “Yes. A lot. Billions.”

“We plan to invest it…”

The Emperor interrupted, now visibly irritated. This wasn’t the script he had in mind. Raising his hand, he cut Lynch off. “I don’t care. But let me remind you—the Prime Minister is investigating the Harmony Capital case. If you were involved in any illegal activity, imperial law won’t spare you.”

Unbothered, Lynch set down his cup and looked the Emperor straight in the eye.

“You know, interrupting people is extremely rude. As the Emperor of the Empire, you ought to have a heart as vast as the sky…”

“As for your mention of illegal activity—I believe that’s unfounded. Every transaction we made was legal, compliant with imperial law and regulations.”

“And lastly, even if you’re not interested in that proposal, I still want to tell you: we plan to invest every cent we earned into the development and reconstruction of the Amellian Province…”

The Emperor’s expression faltered for a brief moment.

“You… what did you just say?”