Free Web NovelHumans are strange creatures.
When Lynch had no scandals, many people claimed he liked men, calling him a degenerate—hardly a flattering label.
While women were still fighting for their rights—regardless of the results—some of their efforts were gaining recognition, and society was gradually becoming more tolerant.
For women, this was undoubtedly the best era in history.
But for people with unconventional sexual orientations, this era in the Federation was the worst.
They were branded with all kinds of names—heretics, degenerates, and worse.
In certain obscure interpretations of scripture, there’s a passage that goes something like this:
The Devil corrupts mankind through sorcery, blurring the lines between male and female, hoping to end human reproduction…
In short, same-sex unions can’t produce children, which supposedly leads to humanity’s extinction—part of the Devil’s grand scheme.
Of course, most of this came from outsiders projecting blind assumptions onto others, viewing their love as dirty, ugly, and twisted.
But real love—pure love—has no such filth. It can transcend gender, even species and death. And when faced with such purity, people are forced to confront their own filth and inferiority.
Panicked, they declare this kind of love wrong instead of trying to understand it.
Mainstream society looks down on these people. The more traditional the family, the more rigid their views, especially among the Federation’s elite.
Regardless of the country—be it the Federation, Gephra, or others—family heritage and offspring remain the cornerstone of legacy.
Even if someone’s interest in the opposite sex is practically nonexistent, they’re still forced to pretend to be normal.
The speculation that Lynch was gay was actually one of the most vicious attacks—if it were confirmed, high society would slam its doors shut on him.
They wouldn’t allow someone tempted by the Devil into their ranks. That kind of presence could lead their youth astray, lost in a fog of moral ambiguity.
Fortunately, Lynch had managed to turn public opinion around—and helping him were the reporters now crowding outside his door.
They were raising their cameras, waiting to capture the exact moment Penny walked out of Lynch’s home. Two reporters were even digging through Lynch’s trash.
One of them found something with residue.
Reporter A sniffed it. “Smells like it was used last night. Still strong.”
Reporter B popped it into his mouth, swirled it around, then spat. “Definitely used by Lynch and Penny.”
Reporter A looked at him in silence. “That alone could be a headline.”
Reporter B rolled his eyes. “I already made the news for something like this once.”
Without these reporters, Lynch’s private life wouldn’t have been so easily exposed to the public.
This is another strange thing about humans—the more openly something is shown to them, the less interested they are.
But if it’s hidden, secret, forbidden—they become obsessed.
It’s like the street performances in a commercial district. If the performer stands plainly where everyone can see, passersby lose interest immediately.
But if there’s a crowd gathered, blocking the view, people will stop, push their way in, and insist on watching—even if the performance is mind-numbingly boring.
Voyeurism—a deeply rooted instinct in human nature—is to blame. People weren’t interested in Lynch’s glamorous side. They wanted to peek into his secrets.
If they could uncover some moral or human flaw in him, they’d feel less ugly themselves.
It’s a sickness—a terminal one.
Inside, after breakfast, Lynch had no pressing work. He was essentially on vacation. Domestic business in the Federation wasn’t easy to manage anymore.
As he’d noted before, aside from finance, the physical economy was oversaturated. Doing anything at random could trigger a chain reaction—something Lynch wanted to avoid for now.
As he was flipping through the newspaper to pass time, the phone rang.
“Boss…”
It was Asel, the head of the Nagaryll company. As a native of Nagaryll, he had a major advantage.
A people in the midst of awakening tend to view anything affecting them or their nation with intense resentment. Having Asel as general manager helped defuse unnecessary hostility.
“It’s me. Speak,” Lynch said, putting the newspaper aside. He pointed to the balcony, signaling Penny to go outside or elsewhere so he could take the call.
Penny pouted and walked to the balcony. The weather was freezing now—definitely not ideal—but with so many reporters outside, she had no choice.
There were so many of them she could see them even from inside. Still, it was a good thing—more exposure.
As Penny posed on the balcony, Lynch refocused on the call. “Is it important?”
“Yes, boss. The first batch of Level 3 employees has emerged. According to company policy, they’re supposed to go to the Federation for advanced training. I wanted to ask whether we proceed now or later.”
Asel didn’t ask whether Lynch’s past promise still counted—if it didn’t, he’d need to manage expectations. If it did, he was just offering a timely reminder.
“There are already Level 3 employees?” Lynch sounded surprised. “That’s much faster than we expected, Asel.”
He deliberately said Asel’s name—a subtle signal, a veiled warning to think carefully before proceeding.
Asel’s voice grew a bit nervous. “Boss, you remember how technical roles progress faster, right?”
“Our most advanced technicians have all met the criteria for Level 3. Some of them have even brought it up…”
In Lynch’s employee advancement program, promotions weren’t based solely on days worked or time on the job—job type was also a key factor.
A truck driver couldn’t be evaluated by the same standards as someone who only knew how to swing a sledgehammer.
And even among drivers, a truck driver couldn’t be judged by the same criteria as a heavy machinery operator, despite both being drivers.
Now, the first group of heavy machinery operators had completed their training and met the promotion requirements. As the company’s first batch of Level 3 employees, they naturally began to wonder whether the company would honor its promises.
Such as the paid trip to the heart of the world—the Baylor Federation—for further training.
Whether it was for study, skill improvement, or simply a vacation, as the first beneficiaries of the new federal reforms in Nagaryll, they were eager to separate themselves from their original social class.
Without that separation, there would be no class mobility.
Lynch thought for a moment. It was true—he had made that promise.
“If they meet the requirements, then send them over. Let me know the date, and I’ll arrange for someone to receive them.”
The call ended there. Asel let out a breath of relief after hanging up. If Lynch had forgotten or refused to follow through, it would’ve been a serious issue.
Thankfully, Lynch acknowledged it and even offered to arrange logistics. That was a huge relief for Asel.
He left his office and addressed the employees gathered nearby:
“Go home and get ready. I’ll be arranging for your trip to the Federation.”
Lynch’s talent development program in Nagaryll was thorough. Temporary absences wouldn’t create staffing issues.
Even if they lost a few—dozens even—there were more than enough workers from the Federation to fill in.
Official reports stated that nearly one million Federation citizens were working in Nagaryll and the Amellia region, with the number steadily growing.
Akumari was one of the first to qualify as a Level 3 employee. He followed Asel’s instructions and went home to pack.
There wasn’t much—two faded winter work uniforms, two equally worn pairs of winter pants, and some undergarments.
Aside from that, he packed several notebooks and pens. Unlike some of his colleagues who saw this as a vacation or a chance to explore, he was going there to learn—to study the secrets behind the Federation’s rise and how it managed to rival Gephra.
He wanted to understand how to save Nagaryll and its people. He believed he would find the answer in the Federation.
The next day, the group traveled by car to the port and boarded a ship bound for the Baylor Federation. It was a journey that would change their lives forever.
Some of them might find enlightenment during the trip, rise to new heights, and see the world for what it truly was.
Others might fall—sinking into the deepest pits of hell, consumed by desire, and enslaved by it.
The ship sailed for five days before arriving in the Baylor Federation.
As the ship docked and the horn sounded, Akumari felt something indescribable in that moment.
He didn’t know how to explain it—something had changed. Something felt unfamiliar.
If he had to name it… maybe it was the air?
The air was thick with the sweet scent of freedom. His whole body felt lighter, as if a lifelong burden had vanished. He felt reborn.
Following the crew’s guidance, he stepped out of the cabin and onto the deck.
He gripped the cold railing as the icy sea breeze scattered the mist of his breath into the air. In the distance, he saw a banner:
“Welcome to the Baylor Federation!”
