Blackstone Code

In a sleek, upscale villa, Akumari sat on a seemingly ordinary—but actually very expensive—sofa. His tense nerves gradually relaxed.

The best way to build self-confidence is through recognition from others.

When people encourage you no matter what you do, affirming your results, you naturally develop a belief like I can definitely do it or Nothing is too hard as long as I try.

But if all you receive is criticism and denial, your confidence deteriorates. You start believing you’re not capable.

Akumari’s heartfelt speech had received unprecedented affirmation from Lynch, and he now felt a surge of confidence. He believed he could succeed in this task.

He was certain he could help bring change to the people of Nagaryll. Even if it started with a spark of passion, that spark could eventually become a force capable of changing the world.

“You still need to study more deeply, Akumari,” Lynch said, offering guidance without reservation. “I can give you more time to stay in the Federation, to read whatever books you want. If you want to visit someone, just tell me. I’ll make the arrangements.”

“Your ideas are important—not just for you or for the people of Nagaryll, but even for us.”

Lynch took a sip of coffee and looked at Akumari. “No one wants war or death. You and I both know that beneath the calm surface of Nagaryll, dangerous forces are stirring.”

“I’ve asked the Joint Development Company many times to reduce the risk of conflict. I can restrain the Federals to a degree, but someone must also stand up to guide the people of Nagaryll down the right path.”

“You carry an important mission. Perhaps this is the only reason you were brought into this chaotic world.”

“If one day, the people of Nagaryll truly awaken from the bottom up, I’m willing to serve as a bridge between Nagaryll and the Federation, to find a proper, suitable solution for all of us.”

Lynch didn’t elaborate on what that solution was, or what it would solve—but both men understood.

What the Federation was doing in Nagaryll was, in essence, no different from an invasion. The only difference from Gephra or the former Pletten Trading Company was that the Federation’s invasion was easier to accept.

There were no wars, no deaths, no overt oppression or slavery. In fact, life had even improved because of the Federation’s involvement. It was absurd. A joke. A miracle.

The invaders were like heavenly envoys who’d paved a staircase to paradise. And every Nagaryll person was walking that path of happiness…

But no matter how good life seemed, they were still the invaded. There might be no conflict now, but what about the future?

One day, the current relationship would end. What then?

Akumari felt the heavy weight of responsibility pressing on his shoulders. He nodded firmly. “Thank you, Mr. Lynch.”

There was something unfinished in his tone, as if something remained unsaid.

Lynch didn’t speak, just looked at him, his gaze encouraging Akumari to speak freely.

Moved by the warmth in Lynch’s eyes, Akumari hesitated for a few seconds before asking quietly, “Why, Mr. Lynch? Can you tell me why?”

“You’re a Federal. By my understanding, you should stand with the Federation. But your actions seem more in line with us…”

Lynch raised his hand, smiling, and gently stopped him. “You think it’s hard to believe?”

“That an invader would sympathize with the invaded, and even try to offer them salvation?”

Akumari nodded. “Yes, Mr. Lynch. I don’t understand at all.”

Lynch’s smile was bright, even dazzling. “Because I’m someone who loves life.”

“Akumari, there are many ways to make money. But we shouldn’t lose our humanity or cross our moral boundaries just for profit.”

“I prefer being a good person over getting rich. Maybe that’s why I want to help you.”

“Everyone has their own line they won’t cross. Mine is this—earn clean money, and be a real human being. Not a devil in human skin.”

Akumari was deeply shaken. In his mind, he pictured a small, helpless rabbit staring up at a lion, asking why it didn’t eat him.

The lion replied, “Because I cherish life, so I don’t kill.”

That kind of primal, soul-deep awe couldn’t be described with words. A chill ran through Akumari as goosebumps rose on his arms.

His lips trembled. “Mr. Lynch… your noble spirit is truly worthy of respect. I think I understand now.”

“For a better life, for peace, and for the future, I will give it my all!”

Lynch extended his hand. With a smile, he shook Akumari’s firmly. “Let’s work together.”

Akumari quickly stood and clasped Lynch’s hand with both of his, as if holding on to the sun in winter. “Yes—together, for that day!”

After discussing the main matters, Lynch chatted with Akumari about his recent experiences.

Overall, Akumari was deeply drawn to Federation society. His admiration wasn’t just for material wealth—it was for the peace and stability.

Sure, some people had lost jobs, some faced personal challenges, but most lived in a stable state.

Everyone loved life. Everyone smiled. There were no blank stares or lifeless expressions.

Even the homeless in the parks had a spark in their eyes.

To Akumari, this was the ideal society: freedom, equality, justice under the law, checks on power—everything was beautiful.

After the conversation, Lynch arranged for someone to escort Akumari back. When the sergeant came to clean up, he looked a little puzzled.

“Boss, is that guy really important?”

Lynch glanced at him. The sergeant quickly added, “If he is, I’ll assign a few more men to watch over him. Nagaryll people aren’t exactly welcome around here these days…”

There was more he didn’t say. Since the Joint Development Company took control of Nagaryll, many factories had quietly moved operations there.

The land was cheap, energy costs were low, and labor was nearly free. This had led to resentment among unemployed locals, who now viewed Nagaryll people with hostility.

Nagaryll is near the equator—their skin is darker than that of the Federation’s people, a visible marker.

In just a year, around sixty or seventy public attacks against Nagaryll citizens had occurred across the country. About half had been cases of mistaken identity.

People still believed it was the Nagarylls who had taken their jobs. If this short guy was important, the sergeant figured he’d better assign more guards to protect him—just in case someone decided to beat him up.

Lynch thought for a moment and nodded. “Add some extra personnel,” he said, then gave the sergeant a once-over, which made the man uneasy.

“Is something wrong with me, boss?”

Lynch’s gaze wasn’t aggressive, but it had a strange power. It could make people uncomfortable the longer they endured it.

He shook his head. “Nothing. Didn’t you mention before that you were thinking about transferring to an administrative role?”

“Maybe before I leave this time, I’ll arrange that for you.”

The sergeant’s expression turned a little complicated—part happy, part hesitant.

He was in his thirties. It wasn’t that he couldn’t still protect Lynch, but he had to think about the future.

He couldn’t stay by Lynch’s side forever. With a family and children now, he needed to consider their well-being too.

He was past the age of risking his life. It was time to plan for what came next.

He’d brought it up to Lynch before, and while Lynch had agreed in principle, he hadn’t made it official—mainly because he still lacked reliable people around him. But now that the company had become more structured, and others could follow orders and protect him effectively, it was finally time to move the sergeant into an administrative role.

At present, Blackstone Security’s management team wasn’t large—just a bit over a dozen people—and all of them came from the Ministry of Defense.

They claimed to be retired veterans or had impressive résumés, but Lynch knew the truth: they were all Ministry of Defense personnel.

Blackstone Security had been formed for a variety of reasons. The military needed a window to observe the outside world, and Lynch didn’t mind handing control to people arranged by the ministry. That’s why Blackstone had been able to expand so wildly and without limits.

Thousands of armed personnel—something never before seen in history.

Calling it Lynch’s company was less accurate than saying it was a joint venture between Lynch, the Ministry of Defense, and the military.

The Ministry provided intelligence and oversight, the military supplied the manpower, and Lynch funded it.

So far, cooperation among the three parties had been smooth, but it couldn’t last forever. Even though Blackstone Security’s income and expenses were currently balanced, that wasn’t a sustainable model.

Lynch needed to gradually install his own people into management, without disrupting the ministry’s or military’s positions.

Promoting some of the old employees wouldn’t be a problem under those circumstances.

“Make a list,” Lynch said. “Anyone else who wants to transfer to admin, let me know. But they must be part of the first batch of employees. There has to be an order to things, right?”