Chapter 118: Amid Decay, a New Surge Emerges

The people most directly affected by the decline of the real economy are truck drivers. When a company goes bankrupt, the demand for logistics disappears, and without logistics, truck drivers lose their jobs.

The more companies that close, the more truck drivers become unemployed. Unlike ordinary workers, truck drivers face a unique challenge.

Ordinary workers can still find other jobs and, if lucky, secure work to get by. But truck drivers face shrinking job opportunities without new logistics demands.

Once unemployed, it’s difficult for truck drivers to find suitable work, even if they lower their salary expectations.

Truck drivers are a special group. They belong to the working class but are often not accepted by other workers, who resent that truckers earn higher wages, have better benefits, and easier jobs.

Truck drivers, in turn, avoid mingling with sweat-soaked workers because they have their own exclusive rides.

This results in labor unions paying little attention to unemployed truck drivers — they either protest when possible or pretend not to see when not.

Truck driving is not only hard but dangerous.

Even today, many highway road bullies operate on interstate roads. Driving hundreds or thousands of miles through deserted highways feels like walking through hell. Every trip is a dance on the edge of life.

One careless moment could mean death halfway through the journey, with the truck stolen and nothing left but bones quickly absorbed back into nature.

Truck drivers usually travel in convoys, especially on interstate routes. Two or three trucks together are risky; five or more is common.

They won’t stop if something happens on the road; they just plow through. So don’t try to block or stop trucks on the interstate.

But are all truck drivers good people?

Obviously not. FBI case files on highway murders often involve truck drivers to some extent.

The most infamous is the Highway Serial Killer, a lone trucker who helped people only to kill them afterward. After his arrest, he confessed to dozens of highway murders, some previously undiscovered by police.

This is a very unique group. Off the highway, they are ordinary people—sometimes rough-looking but mostly normal.

Yet once they enter their domain, a fundamental change occurs within them.

Lynch brought them to an outdoor parking lot. The truck cabs and trailers were separate; they were here to see the cabs.

Over forty truck cabs were parked there. Cook suddenly became emotional, running to one cab, his lips trembling.

He gently stroked the headlight, feeling both guilt and pain. Lynch’s friend James explained, “That’s Cook’s truck from before our company closed.”

“I understand…” Lynch, a kind and tolerant man, did not disturb the touching reunion between Cook and his beloved truck.

After a moment, Cook came back to himself, scratching his head shyly—a rare display of bashfulness for such a tough man.

This is a typical trait of truck drivers—they have narrow social circles.

His eyes showed a yearning he was too shy to voice. Lynch signaled to the staff, “Bring the keys for that truck so my friend can take a look.”

At those words, all the truck drivers’ expressions changed. First, they respected Lynch for showing no disdain or humiliation toward Cook and for fulfilling his small wish.

Second, Lynch didn’t call them subordinates, employees, or truck drivers—he called them friends.

Because of frequent frightening highway news, not everyone in civilized society wants to befriend truck drivers.

With their narrow social circles, some social difficulties, and quick tempers, only they truly accept each other.

Lynch, a big boss and businessman, calling them friends was moving and gave them a warm feeling.

In the past, they might not have felt this deeply, but now, months after losing their jobs, Lynch’s words were like warm sunlight melting the ice in their hearts.

Cook didn’t know how to express his feelings and ended up saying a simple thank you. He was a beast who didn’t know how to express himself well.

With the keys, Cook transformed immediately. He pulled out a toolbox, opened the hood, and began inspecting the truck, quickly slipping into his role.

Lynch looked at the others. “What are you waiting for? Maybe you’ll find your truck here. Maybe not, but why not take a look or try?”

This moved the group. They’d wanted to act but were reserved.

With Lynch’s permission, they thanked him and took keys to inspect their vehicles. Lynch watched from the edge of the lot.

As the saying goes, the highway is a lawless land—especially interstates stretching hundreds or thousands of miles through nothingness.

Even state highways only occasionally have police at entrances; they don’t intervene in highway matters. It’s truckers’ territory.

Controlling most truckers in a state means controlling that state’s logistics.

Trains?

Sure, trains can bypass truck drivers, but they face two problems.

The Baylor Federation still lacks a complete rail network covering the entire federation due to terrain, and rails can disappear in deserted areas.

Plus, low public use keeps rail companies from growing, making trains a thing of the past.

Railways lose money, a widely accepted fact, though every state usually has rail lines connecting major cities for population movement. Intercontinental railways are rare.

If Lynch controls state logistics, he can hold people by the neck. Even without investing, he can get shares since he controls transportation.

After more than half an hour, Cook packed up his tools and tidied himself. He happily reported the truck was well maintained, with only some minor, long-standing issues.

Others had similar impressions of their trucks or chosen vehicles. Lynch didn’t argue and started negotiating prices with the dealership manager.

A new big truck costs about thirty to fifty thousand Sol—not cheap, and out of reach for drivers like Cook.

Even these used trucks cost over fifteen thousand.

After friendly talks with the manager and owner, Lynch signed a special agreement to buy at least one hundred trucks within six months, with prices capped below twelve thousand each.

The dealership only provided vehicles for Lynch to choose from; the decision was entirely his.

If this agreement had been presented to the dealership owner five years ago, he would have torn it up without hesitation and shouted at Lynch to leave.

But now, his eyelid twitched uncontrollably as he signed the agreement, even thanking Lynch for supporting his business.

Having the vehicles tied up meant the funds were frozen, and the times and circumstances were changing daily.

Facing a bleak future, holding cash or holding dozens of trucks were two completely different situations.

Even if profits were slim or nonexistent, this was a rare chance for the dealership owner to liquidate assets, so he forced himself to sign.

Immediately, Lynch had Cook and the others drive to the club. After a few days of arrangements, everyone at the club had reached an agreement with Kane, ending their tenure there.

As the owner and philanthropist, Lynch needed to comfort them and acknowledge their past contributions to the club.

Before that, he had to visit George again to buy more vehicles, which would surely be used as collateral for bank loans. Using other people’s money to serve himself—this was the essence of the financial game.

Those who used their own money and bore the risks themselves…

Lynch never looked down on people with intellectual disabilities; he actually found them quite endearing.