Blackstone Code

As the vehicle passed a relief point, Lynch saw for the first time the long lines of people waiting for aid.

There were twelve relief points in Sabin City. These places were used to redeem food and supply stamps. Simply put, people could exchange food stamps for food and supply stamps for some basic necessities like salt, a small amount of sugar, or some basic medicines, even clothing.

After all, autumn had arrived, and winter was not far away.

At the front of the line, there were several staff members from the Social Services Bureau, as well as several armed police officers with standard submachine guns.

There had been more than one robbery targeting relief points recently, and food and supply stamps had become the new hard currency for the lower class. They had partially replaced currency in the market and were very stable.

In any antique shop or alleyway, one could find people buying and selling food and supply stamps. They had mastered the art of balance, ensuring that neither them nor buyers felt disadvantaged.

As Lynch looked on curiously, Joegleman, with his instinct to impart knowledge, began to explain, "Have you ever seen that kind of food?"

Lynch shook his head, "Should I have?"

Joegleman couldn't help but laugh, "It's definitely not a good experience. I had it maybe twenty or thirty years ago, and the formula hasn't changed since."

"Corn, potatoes, some vegetables, some meat powder, and bone meal, all combined and dried into something as hard as a rock," he reminisced with a nostalgic look, "If you want to eat it, you either scrape it into powder with a small knife and swallow it bit by bit with water, or smash it and cook a portion in a pot with water."

"In the end, you'll get a pot of thick soup that looks and smells like shit."

Lynch listened intently and then gave his opinion, "That doesn't sound like a good experience."

Joegleman nodded with lingering fear, "But you had to eat it. Actually, a lot of people say the current situation is terrible, but I think it's not that bad. At least it's much better than it used to be."

"We survived times harder than now, there's no reason we can't get through this small difficulty."

The stark contrast between the luxurious cars in the traffic and the poor people lining up for relief was striking. People's numb eyes rested on the luxury cars for less than a second before looking away; they no longer cared.

Soon, the two arrived at a private establishment. These places usually operated on a referral system, where one could only enter if recommended and became a member.

Strict confidentiality made it the first choice for many people to meet, regardless of whether it involved legal issues.

After entering the agreed-upon room, Hart came up to greet them. In less than a month, Hart had become much more haggard than when they last met, with more gray hair.

After a brief exchange of pleasantries, they sat on the sofa.

Hart stared at the glass of liquor on the table for a moment before apologizing for his distraction, "Lately, my mental state has been terrible. The doctor has prescribed me some sleep aids. Otherwise, I'd have to drink myself to sleep."

As he spoke, he also showed a small pill bottle he carried with him. Lynch and Joegleman appropriately expressed concern for his health.

Hart shook his head with a bitter smile, "Alright, let's not talk about this. Mr. Lynch, after thinking it over seriously, maybe you are right."

His words seemed surprising, but Lynch remained unmoved, "In business, there is no right or wrong. It's just that you backed down before me this time."

His sharp words left Hart unable to say the rest of what was on his mind, and in the end, all he could do was sigh, "Shall we proceed as discussed last time?" Lynch nodded in agreement, and Hart took out the site plan of the lakeside villa area from his bag.

The houses that had already been sold were marked in blue, while the unsold ones were left white.

It was clear that if not for the current crisis, he wouldn't be in this position.

The value of those properties would have increased, and the vacant properties were still generating continuous profits.

Holiday rentals and long-term leases made him, his company, and the investors very satisfied.

Given the previous trend, in another few years, each of those houses would be worth a fortune, turning over tens of times the profit.

Unfortunately, he fell victim to the times, losing big and looking disgraceful.

Lynch made some marks on the site plan. Having already visited the site, he had a comprehensive understanding. Watching Lynch mark the plan, Hart's expression changed constantly, his heart bleeding.

After Lynch had roughly marked the plan, he glanced over it briefly. Based on the prices before these properties had depreciated, he had lost at least two million.

With the help of the operator of this private establishment, they quickly finalized a standard contract. This was one of the reasons why an expensive membership fee was required to enter.

Every day, there were at least two lawyers on standby here. They were well-versed in the state's laws and could draft most types of legal documents at any time, including various business transaction contracts.

Looking at the contract, Hart let out a deep sigh. "You win!" he said, signing his name. At that moment, it felt as if something was being pulled out of his body.

Lynch also signed, sealing the deal.

Trading the land for these properties brought a slight smile to Lynch's face. Though the land didn't turn into cash, the value of the properties obtained from Hart far exceeded that of cash.

At least cash would appreciate slowly, while property values, especially villas in scenic areas, would increase quickly.

After signing the contract, Hart didn't linger, leaving hurriedly without even having dinner. He had to inform investors and shareholders that he was taking action.

"He's a good man." Joegleman sighed after Hart left.

In their interactions, Hart was one of the few honest businessmen.

Lynch only smiled, not continuing the topic.

Everything proceeded methodically, and a few days later, the tall, thin man finally buckled under pressure, agreeing to Lynch's terms to invest in Interstellar Trading Company with at least a 33% cash ratio.

However, they changed the initial plan, no longer seeking majority ownership but investing as a collective, holding 10% of the shares, with a supplementary agreement ensuring their priority in future financing.

More cities saw the emergence of Interstellar Trading Company and second-hand goods auctions, drawing more attention to Lynch and his company, seemingly stepping onto a broader stage.

On the first trading day of October, a well-dressed young man in his thirties, carrying a briefcase, walked into the main hall of EaseLink Exchange in Bupayne.

Such people were common in Bupayne, where at least seven out of ten men dressed similarly. They were the backbone of Bupayne, the various financial brokers.

But there was not much of a smile on this broker's face. He was facing a huge problem: one of his clients had broken into his home yesterday and taken his wife and daughter hostage. The client's demand was for him to quickly redeem the foreign bonds he had previously persuaded him to buy.

Capital was never merciful. The "Trading Report" had issued multiple warnings about the increased risk of foreign bonds, but these warnings were often inconspicuous.

It was like a news report about an alien invasion overshadowing a mention of a blocked street drain.

People would focus on the more sensational parts, ignoring the risk warnings about bonds.

During this time, institutions began privately commissioning brokers to resell these hard-to-cash bonds, with banks being the major players.

According to the issuing country's promise, each buck of bond face value could eventually be redeemed for one buck and seventy-five cents in cash. Some bonds were even trading at a premium of one to two times of their face value.

Such bonds should be in short supply, yet the securities market saw a surge in transactions for these bonds.

With state-backed issuing institutions, these seemed reliable to the average person.

They knew some people's words were worthless, especially capitalists and banks, but had never heard of a country deceiving so many people.

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