Chapter 111: Visionary Lynch

The prison guard who watched Director Johnson and Little Michael’s mother leave shifted his gaze from the receding car, closing the prison gates while joking with a colleague, “See that? That’s the privilege of the rich. Just got locked up, and already released. And his wife is so young—might even be younger than his daughter…”

The colleague chuckled and shook his head, saying nothing more. People like them often saw scenes ordinary folks never would.

Some people go to prison one day and walk out the next—it’s almost routine.

Some arrive in high spirits, not as prisoners but as admired figures—and indeed, they lived up to that image.

When they left, they did so with equal fanfare, sometimes greeted by convoys of a dozen or even dozens of cars outside the prison.

Sometimes, local celebrities got beaten by groups of outsiders inside, crying for mercy.

Others, despite being sentenced, had free access to the warden’s office and could come and go as they pleased.

Sometimes, guards and staff would secretly bring women in. Some managed to turn the prison into something like a hotel.

After seeing so much, nothing seemed strange anymore. A fifty- or sixty-year-old man marrying a thirty-something wife and having a teenage son? Nothing unusual, even compared to the strange happenings inside the prison.

Meanwhile, after breakfast, Lynch went with Ferrell to City Hall to meet about the next professional sports club, aiming to revive Sabin City’s sports spirit. If it were just to use the city stadium, Lynch wouldn’t take on the responsibility.

He knew how hard and costly running a professional sports business was. Even smaller corporations struggled, and he didn’t have that much capacity.

But the wealthy have their ways, and the poor have theirs. Lynch chose the latter. His goal wasn’t just the stadium’s usage rights but to stake a claim.

He painted a grand vision for the mayor, and naturally, the mayor and City Hall needed the means to realize it.

Like painting a tempting picture for Richard and others, one must first have the ability to see the vision; without ability, there’s no chance to dream.

Painting a vision might seem like one-sided, almost deceitful persuasion, but it’s actually a transaction—selling dreams.

Buying dreams comes at a cost, whether through action or land.

Shortly after arriving at City Hall, Lynch and Ferrell had a brief meeting with the mayor, who quickly left—busy with endless tasks.

Lynch and Ferrell went into the mayor’s office. With the mayor’s prior approval and Ferrell’s familiarity, no one blocked their way.

Lynch stood before a massive map. Most people wouldn’t understand it—it wasn’t a simple geographic map but a development plan.

Some areas were completed, some under construction, others planned.

Colored blocks and lines filled the map. Without knowledge, few could even find their home.

Lynch studied the map, then pointed to a vacant lot on the southeast edge of the city. “How about here?”

Ferrell shook his head. “We have no plans to develop southeast for now. Actually, southwest is better.”

Sabin City lies in the south-central part of the Baylor Federation, with 800,000 residents, the fourth largest city in the state.

City development usually follows certain principles: local specialty economy, tourism, light and heavy industry, labor export…

The city’s core focus was light industry. Why? That was the state government’s decision.

Heavy industry needs comprehensive support industries. Sabin City’s population can’t sustain heavy industry, nor does it have the foundational soil for it. Light industry was a good choice.

Naturally, the city’s development aimed to serve local pillar industries.

Over two years ago, City Hall announced a plan.

To reduce train disruptions to residents and respond to complaints, they moved the train station from downtown to the southwest outskirts.

This seemed for the public’s sake, but earlier, companies centered around Liston and others had acquired large tracts southwest for infrastructure.

The train station move was actually to serve these industries—making goods transport easier, letting shipments bypass middlemen directly into warehouses.

Ferrell suggested Lynch claim land in the southwest for his club. Location didn’t matter much, but why not pick a promising spot?

If Lynch ever sold, just the land under the club would be valuable.

Ferrell’s honesty and consideration stemmed from his role as Lynch’s policy advisor. Since he earned Lynch’s salary, he had to think for Lynch.

Also, he hoped Lynch might support him someday.

Lynch was tempted. He asked, “If I build the club in the southwest, how much land could I get?”

Ferrell calculated, “About 35 to 45 acres. More than that would be hard.”

Once industrial zones reach high density, factories expand around them to save costs, creating efficient clusters.

Products move easily between factories without loading onto trucks, saving huge sums.

Land here was hard to get, but Lynch was still in the mayor’s good graces, so refusal was unlikely.

Lynch frowned, then asked about the southeast again. “If I build there, how much land?”

Ferrell answered immediately, “No limits whatsoever.”

The southeast isn’t in any development plan for the next five to ten years and is considered worthless by current rulers.

In five, ten, or fifteen years, those rulers will be gone. Any problems will become history, left for capable successors to solve happily.

If successors aren’t capable, they have excuses to placate the public. That’s why Ferrell confidently promised unlimited land in the southeast.

Looking at the vast lands beyond the city, people hadn’t realized yet that, with war fading, a population boom was coming.

Even if Baylor Federation stayed out of the war, peace and financial recovery would still trigger a new population explosion.

When that happens, current city plans won’t hold Sabin City back. Its expansion will inevitably push into the empty lands beyond the city limits.What will people call themselves then?

Lynch couldn’t help but laugh. Ferrell didn’t know why; only Lynch did.

Because by that time, someone might call him Visionary Lynch.

It sounded rustic, but it was undeniably hardcore.