Blackstone Code-Chapter 685: Rolling On

In the lounge reserved for rest sat a man about to go to prison, a prominent public figure. Normally, rules wouldn’t allow such individuals to meet without guards present, but at that moment, neither the judge, the bailiffs, nor anyone else objected.

Lynch was a guest of the Governor, a friend of the entire family, and held immense power. No one dared make things difficult for him now.

“I’ve arranged everything for you inside. You don’t need to worry—just think of it as a vacation,” Lynch said, handing Fox a cigarette. The two leaned close, soon surrounded by smoke.

Fox glanced at the dimming cigarette tip, then looked at Lynch. “Five-star hotel?”

Lynch smiled and nodded. “Five-star hotel.”

There are many classifications in prison. For political or financial criminals, the conditions they face inside aren’t all that different from the outside. Aside from the loss of freedom, it’s hardly torture—especially after Lynch had made all the arrangements. Edwin had also reached out to the local prison. As long as the warden wasn’t a fool, he would know what to do.

A bright, private cell—on the second floor at least—with large windows and good ventilation. A soft bed, at least two pillows, a radio, and a television. Breakfast and the daily paper delivered each morning. No mandatory labor.

To account for Fox’s age, just yesterday the Green brothers had sent six young men in their twenties into the prison. Their charges were light—two to three years each. When their time was almost up, new ones would be sent in.

These men would act as Fox’s guards and enforcers, ensuring his safety from any threats inside. Prisons are closed environments—outside influence doesn’t always penetrate to the bottom. If someone inside wanted to make a name for themselves, not even Lynch’s name—or the Governor’s—would matter.

Additionally, Fox would be allowed out a few days each quarter under the pretense of needing treatment for multiple chronic illnesses. Of course, he’d be supervised, but aside from restricted freedom, life inside wouldn’t be all that different from the outside.

“Take care of that foolish son of mine…” Fox flicked his ash and took a drag, his clouded eyes looking at Lynch.

Lynch nodded solemnly. “With me here, nothing will go wrong.”

Fox took two last drags, tossed the cigarette to the floor, stepped on it, and stood up. “It’s getting late. I’ll go now.”

Lynch stood as well and walked with him for a bit. When he watched Fox get into the police vehicle headed for prison, he finally exhaled lightly.

The last remaining issue had been taken care of with Fox’s imprisonment. Lynch could finally breathe easy.

A few days later, Soren visited Lynch again. This time, he didn’t come alone—he brought two others.

“These two are key advisors to His Excellency the Governor. The Governor is very interested in your proposal but would like to understand more. He also asked me to tell you he’s looking forward to your next meeting.”

Soren made no effort to hide his own uselessness. If Governor Sedel hadn’t been tied down in Amellia, he might have come personally to speak with Lynch.

Soren had relayed Lynch’s three demands to Governor Sedel. The Governor had not reacted with anger. Emotional control is a basic quality of a ruler. Unlike his nominal imperial cousin, he didn’t rage in impotent fury.

Of course, such thoughts stayed private and were never spoken aloud.

Amellian Province had decayed to a shameful degree—it was clear that foreign forces had intervened. If Governor Sedel hadn’t realized that Lynch and the other Federals were stirring up the situation, then he would be unfit for his role.

But precisely because he did understand, he had to reflect.

Amellia was destined to be unlike the homeland.

Certain methods couldn’t be applied as before. Just like how to deal with rebels—the Federals had handled things well in Nagaryll. Perhaps there was something to learn from them.

After discussions with the homeland, both the Prime Minister and the Emperor agreed to treat Amellia as an “exception.” They would experiment with new methods of governance as preparation for controlling more colonies or distant territories in the future.

Soren had waited several days for these two advisors. They would now negotiate key issues with Lynch on behalf of Governor Sedel.

After a brief exchange of pleasantries, everyone sat down.

“Mr. Lynch, your time is valuable. Let’s skip the small talk and get straight to the point, shall we?” said Advisor One bluntly. Lynch agreed without objection—he disliked wasting time on formalities.

With his approval, the two advisors pulled out their notebooks and pens. Advisor One began, “Mr. Lynch, regarding the first of your three demands—the complete liberalization of the Amellia market—what exactly does complete mean?”

Lynch answered without hesitation. “It means the government will not interfere in market fluctuations. The free market will regulate itself entirely through economic forces.”

The two advisors jotted down notes quickly. After a pause, Advisor One asked again, “If we fully liberalize the market, how can we ensure that local livelihoods aren’t devastated by capital? That the region doesn’t become a place for profiteering?”

“Local industry is nearly at a standstill. If merchants import basic necessities from elsewhere, prices will inevitably exceed what people are willing to pay. How do we solve that problem?”

Lynch raised an eyebrow. “No offense, but are prices for basic goods in the Gephra homeland regulated by the government?”

Advisor Two nodded. “Not entirely, Mr. Lynch. But we do impose price ceilings on essentials—food, alcohol, daily necessities, and so on.”

This monarchic country had its peculiarities. Lynch didn’t know the history behind this: that Gephra’s early capitalists had once tried to challenge feudal power.

They conspired to buy up grain from lords, then jacked up prices, destabilizing markets and harming the public. In response, the nobles responded with brutality—executing many merchants and imposing price controls on essentials, balancing profit with access.

This system persisted to this day. There were no formal laws, but it was ingrained in people’s minds.

Some lines couldn’t be crossed. Merchants understood this well—and they adjusted accordingly.

“A distorted market,” Lynch said calmly. Then he posed a question. “What do you think is capital’s ultimate goal?”

The two advisors exchanged glances. Advisor One answered, “Wealth, Mr. Lynch.”

Lynch nodded noncommittally. He pulled out a cigarette—his signal that a lesson was coming. “Mind if I smoke?”

After they nodded, he lit his cigarette, crossed his legs, and, with calm confidence, said, “Yes, wealth. But the real question is—how does capital pursue wealth?”

“Simple. You take low-cost raw materials, turn them into goods, and sell them at a higher price. After deducting all costs, the difference is profit.”

“The market will regulate itself. If something is too expensive, it won’t sell. You don’t need to worry about high prices affecting livelihoods—you should be more concerned about preventing destructive competition…”

As Lynch spoke, a faint smile appeared on his face. “It seems Gephra’s merchants haven’t experienced such bare-knuckle competition yet. I’m looking forward to their reactions.”

Behind every Gephran merchant stood nobles of various ranks—street vendors didn’t count, but any real capital group had noble backing.

This meant competition between capital ultimately became a contest between noble factions. And when nobles clashed, it was often more civilized—a tacit understanding about who would handle which business.

Such arrangements lacked real competition. As long as the capitalists followed the nobles’ distribution of interests, they didn’t need to worry about anyone breaking the rules.

Over the years, there had been those unwilling to play by the rules, but they had all vanished into the tides of history.

Once the market was fully opened, Gephran capitalists would be no match for the Federals—at least not in terms of business competition.

The conversation then turned to Lynch’s second and third demands, which involved the construction and control of key public infrastructure and resources.

Through his discussions with the two advisors, Lynch got a clearer picture of Governor Sedel’s intentions. They planned to turn Amellia into a testing ground—perhaps even a proving ground for reform.

Gephra’s system had become outdated, and its nobles may have begun to realize this. In less than two years of competing with the Federation, they had found themselves outmatched across the board.

A sense of crisis was beginning to take root. They were starting to study their rivals—and themselves.

If necessary, Lynch believed, they might even move from a monarchy to a constitutional monarchy. The thought of playing a role in such a transformation filled him with energy.

A man driving the world toward the future.