Blackstone Code

“Saving… us?”

The young Count stared at Lynch in disbelief, and even the former Countess looked confused.

The news that the elders had betrayed the nobility had spread across the entire empire within a day—everyone, even the commoners, knew it. But Lynch’s words left both mother and son bewildered.

After about ten seconds, the young Count shook his head in frustration. “I don’t understand, Mr. Lynch. They cost us a chance to place one of our own as Finance Minister, a real power we could have relied on. That clearly hurts our interests—how could that possibly be saving us?”

In the eyes of most nobles in the Privy Council, the young Count voiced exactly what they were thinking. If one of their own had taken the Finance Ministry, then other nobles from the Council could have been placed throughout the financial departments in key positions.

With a representative among the ministers, they’d have a voice before the Emperor—possibly even a foothold to expand their influence into other government branches.

Many had seen the standoff between the Prime Minister and the Emperor as a rare opportunity for the nobles of the Privy Council to rise. It was the only time in years that both the Prime Minister and the Emperor had agreed to let the Council submit a ministerial list.

And yet, the elders rejected this golden opportunity under the excuse of failing to produce a recommended list. Worse still, they even planned to suggest that the Prime Minister take the position himself!

To say there wasn’t a secret deal behind all this would fool no one—not even the nobles, let alone the commoners.

It was obviously a serious blow, but Lynch had called it a good thing. That was hard to accept, even for the young Count, who admired Lynch deeply.

Lynch looked at him, seemingly reading his thoughts. “Seems absurd, doesn’t it?”

The young Count nodded. “I completely don’t get it…” He forced a bitter smile. “If this is politics, then politics is too complicated.”

Lynch, still munching on his apple, shook his head. “Politics isn’t complicated—not if you can peel back its layers and see the core. Only then can you truly understand the full picture.”

“Do you know about the Federation’s Congress?” he suddenly asked. The young Count nodded. He did.

According to Gephra’s reports, the Federation’s Congress was a circus. Lawmakers who influenced national policy regularly hurled insults at each other over ideological differences—cursing, swearing, accusing each other of moral failings. Fistfights weren’t uncommon.

To the stern, serious-minded people of Gephra, the Federation’s Congress was little more than a clown show—a ridiculous comedy. That was the general impression.

“What do you think of Congress?” Lynch asked.

The young Count realized this was both a test and a lesson. The feeling was new to him, and he became serious, wanting to give a well-thought-out answer.

Watching from the side, the former Countess suddenly felt a pang of emotion. She seemed to see her late husband in that moment—relaxed on the sofa, sharing his wisdom with the next generation in a lighthearted way.

Her eyes grew misty. She quickly lowered her head to hide it.

The young Count didn’t notice. After a moment of reflection, he answered, “It’s chaotic. Everyone has different views. During recesses, lobbyists go around trying to sway congressmen.”

“They’re like… a handful of pebbles—no matter how tightly you grip them, the moment you loosen your hand, they scatter.”

He chose a vivid metaphor: not sand, but pebbles.

Wet sand can clump together and hold its shape. But pebbles, wet or dry, can never be truly held together—loosen your grip, and they fall apart.

Lynch nodded in approval. The question hadn’t been difficult.

“Now, let’s assume they do unite—what happens then?”

The young Count fell into thought. He had a feeling that if he could grasp the reasoning here, everything would suddenly make sense.

He didn’t know much about the Federation’s political system, but he knew Congress had the power to make and amend laws—some of which could directly affect the President. Congress also held the power to impeach.

After much deliberation, he cautiously answered, “If Congress united, the President would be in danger?”

His thinking was that if Congress became truly unified, the President would essentially become irrelevant—a puppet to a body that made all the decisions.

Lynch shook his head. “Not quite right—but not far off either.”

“If Congress ever united, it would face dissolution. The congressmen would be removed from the political stage—perhaps replaced or preserved in some symbolic form.”

“Supreme power tolerates no challenge. The President and the military wouldn’t allow such a dangerous power bloc to exist. They’d spark a civil war and wipe out anyone trying to seize control of the nation.”

“So, a unified Congress isn’t a good thing—it’s a disaster.”

“Now, if we look again at Gephra’s current situation… do you see it differently?”

Lynch gave the young Count a faint smile. His apple was down to the core. The former Countess brought over a small waste bin, and Lynch thanked her as he tossed the core away.

As she handed him a napkin, she quietly said, “Thank you.” She knew it wasn’t Lynch’s responsibility to help her son understand the world.

But he did. And for that, she was truly grateful. This wasn’t just about money—this was the passing down of wisdom. Far more valuable.

Lynch smiled and said nothing.

He saw great potential in the young Count. Gephra and the Federation would inevitably become rivals. Building strong ties now was like laying the foundation early.

No matter how things turned out, these people were worth investing in.

Even if the future didn’t unfold exactly as Lynch predicted, the investment would still pay off. So why wait and regret not acting when he had the chance?

After several minutes of deep thought, the young Count exhaled a long breath. His eyes lit up. “I think I understand!”

Lynch lit a cigarette. The former Countess used the table lighter to help him.

“Let’s hear it.”

Crossing his legs and resting his hands on his knees, the young Count looked composed—mature beyond his twenty-three years. He had just celebrated his birthday in October.

But to the mainstream of this world, he was still a young man—a big kid.

“The Privy Council is extremely united right now. If we gain more power, and that power continues to spread, we’ll become the most dangerous force in the Empire.”

“Neither the ministers nor His Majesty will be able to do anything about it—because we are the nobility.”

“If a Finance Minister really came from among us, that person—and all of us—would immediately become targets of suspicion by the ministers and the royal family.”

“So, that ministerial position was never going to be ours. Given that, the elders using this unattainable seat to trade for something we can actually get is clearly a smarter move.”

“Maybe we’ll find out tomorrow—perhaps some of our allies will join the Finance Ministry and become new officials.”

“I’m right, aren’t I?” He looked at Lynch expectantly, like a student who scored 99 on a test, eagerly awaiting praise.

Lynch nodded. “You’re right… about a small part. But that alone is impressive—most people at your stage wouldn’t even see that much.”

The young Count was stunned. He thought he had seen the whole picture, but Lynch said he’d gotten only a small part right—not even half!

It was like scoring 99 on a test with a total of 200 or 300 points—not exactly something to celebrate.

“Can… you tell me more? The rest of it!” he asked, excitement creeping into his voice. Politics might be dry, but with the right approach, it started to feel interesting.

After all, there’s nothing more thrilling than the game of outwitting others—as long as you win. Losers never think it’s fun.

The former Countess looked at her son with maternal pride, mixed with emotion and relief.

Naturally, Lynch’s figure in her eyes shimmered with golden light—radiant and brilliant.