Chapter 113: Buying a Car, Loan, Selling Land

Lynch wore a white shirt a size too small, with a lightweight vest over it. The look was professional yet stylish. His dark gray skirt was quite short, but such outfits had become common.

Jobs were hard to find now, and everyone was working hard.

Lynch glanced at the girl and nodded. He noticed the name tag on her chest—Sales Manager. That was probably the cheapest privilege an ordinary person could enjoy.

Below the title was a name: Beth. A very ordinary name.

She held a clipboard in one hand and a pen poised on it, looking professional as she asked Lynch about his car preferences.

This was a common tactic: recording a customer’s preferences made them feel valued, though that value would soon be sold to consulting firms and car manufacturers. For buyers like Lynch, purchasing luxury cars, this value was even more valuable.

Lynch stated his requirements: the car should be attractive, elegant, serious, and prestigious.

Beth’s interest peaked. She led Lynch to another showroom where well-known luxury cars were displayed, mostly sedans.

Sedans were pricier and more widely accepted in society. Even the president’s official car was a luxury sedan, cementing its image as suitable for formal occasions, unlike commercial vans, which, despite similar quality and technology, were seen as less formal and cheaper.

Seeing so many luxury cars together, Lynch was surprised Beth could name all the brands and models without hesitation. To him, the sedans looked almost identical.

Perhaps due to current industrial design or aesthetic trends, most sedans looked alike, with some brands indistinguishable from one another at a glance.

This lowered Lynch’s enthusiasm for choosing a car—it was just about picking a different logo.

“What do you recommend?” Lynch asked, casually touching the silver paint on one car, which felt decent. He looked back at Beth.

Her excitement flickered briefly. Such straightforward customers were rare. With hopeful caution, she asked, “Sir, what’s your budget?”

Lynch smiled—a bright, charming smile that made Beth’s eyes flutter. “I want something that meets my requirements. As good as possible. No entry-level cars.”

He avoided stating a budget, but Beth had a rough idea. She led him to a shiny silver car that stood out. Its front engine compartment was longer, and the entire body was stretched out.

It should have looked awkward but somehow had an indescribable beauty—maybe thanks to its mirror-like silver paint.

“This is the latest and most luxurious model in the House luxury sedan series. Some local celebrities and politicians bought it immediately. It costs less than 100,000 Sol—definitely the right choice for you.”

Lynch took a quick look. Following Beth’s introduction, he tested the leather-wrapped rear seats with reclining functions. It even had a record player and radio—a luxury only found in high-end cars.

“How much?” Lynch patted the car. “Also, I don’t like some parts. Do you have anyone here who can customize it?”

After friendly negotiations, Lynch bought the car for 120,000 Sol. Rejecting Beth’s offer of home delivery, he drove it himself from the dealership straight to the bank to see George.

When Lynch arrived, George was chatting with subordinates. His mood had been good lately—his branch had twice been praised in conference calls for outstanding performance. Some even discussed him as a candidate for local bank president, a position he never dared imagine. All thanks to Lynch.

Upon hearing Lynch was there, George sent everyone out and personally invited Lynch into his office.

He opened a box on his desk, picked a plain cigarette, and asked casually, “What can I do for you?”

His tone was warm and friendly. Lynch lit his cigarette with a lighter George handed him.

Lynch casually dropped the car purchase papers on the desk. George raised an eyebrow and examined them closely.

Though he appeared easygoing, he became serious and meticulous when working.

After reviewing the documents and tax records, he looked up and said, “If you want to buy a car, you can come to me. I know local dealers who’ll give you a better price.”

Selling cars—luxury cars especially—was not as easy as people thought. Except for a few bestsellers, most luxury cars were slow sellers.

Manufacturers and dealers had large inventories that tied up their cash flow. To ease this, they often mortgaged cars to banks to get loans.

George could easily get deep discounts. Dealers wanting loans would have to show goodwill to keep fees low.

This wasn’t illegal, and no one questioned it—it was just one of many perks bankers enjoyed, as they maintained good relations with companies.

Lynch shook his head, exhaled smoke, and asked, “I want a low-interest loan. The car is worth 120,000 Sol. How much can you lend me?”

George reviewed the papers again, kept one copy, and called his secretary to prepare a mortgage loan contract.

After hanging up, he smiled and said, “I’ll try to give you a fair deal. We’re friends, right?”

Lynch nodded and raised his cigarette in agreement. “We’re friends.”

Banks rarely valued items at their sale price. A 100-Sol item might be valued at 50 or 60 Sol.

But some leeway existed—valuation errors, market fluctuations, and normal discrepancies were expected. Bad debt reserves handled these risks.

Years ago, the price of a one-carat Variscite gem was about 2,000 Sol, until a large local deposit was discovered, causing prices to plunge to 200 Sol. No one could have reversed that.

Banks suffered losses, but no one blamed the employees who accepted those gems as collateral.

If these reserves weren’t used, the bank wouldn’t praise George’s risk management either—it was just part of the job.

So these tolerated errors weren’t pursued unless excessive.

Soon, Lynch signed the mortgage contract. 120,000 Sol was transferred to his account. He would pay 100 Sol interest monthly until the loan was repaid or defaulted.

This wasn’t Lynch’s invention—it was common practice. George knew immediately what Lynch wanted without explanation.

For George, this small matter deepened his connection with Lynch.

Lynch bought a luxury car worth 100,000 Sol by paying 150 Sol monthly—no one lost out.

After discussing these minor matters, Lynch revealed his true purpose: he planned to sell the land owned by the Sabin City professional football club.

If he kept the land, he wouldn’t have the funds to build a new club outside the city or the capital to start his plans. With the financial crisis looming, if he didn’t sell now, was he going to wait until the land became worthless?