Chapter 130: Shouldering Responsibility, Grasping the Mission

“You have two choices.”

“First, I will cover all your expenses during school and provide enough support. This is my investment in your studies. You need good grades to prove the investment wasn’t wasted.”

“Second, the conditions are the same, but whether you graduate or not, you must work for me for ten years. You know, I’m a capitalist; exploitation is my motto.”

“But…” Lynch cleared his throat, “Look, I’m a young man…”

Katherine quickly interrupted Lynch’s joking hint, her expression complex. “The second option. After I graduate, I will work for you for ten years.”

She knew Lynch said that to ease her burden. After all, they had broken up; logically, Lynch didn’t have to pay her expenses or arrange work for her family.

They were just friends now, but friends wouldn’t do this. So Lynch found excuses so she could accept help without hurting her pride or self-respect.

Both were smart—otherwise, they wouldn’t have dreamed of college. Dumb kids drop out of high school to work in fast food or gas stations, but they still held hope for the future.

Lynch pointed at the girl. “I expect your performance…” He handed her an envelope. “There’s money inside, enough for your living expenses, and your bankbook. I’ll deposit some money each month. Don’t overthink it.”

He smirked, “So, shouldn’t you give me a hug now?”

The girl looked into his amused eyes and finally opened her arms to hug him tightly for about half a minute. Neither spoke, then they parted.

She snatched the envelope from his hand, smiling. “Just wait. I’ll blow your mind!”

Watching her leave in the car, Lynch scratched his head and returned to the living room. Everything was the same as two days ago, no big changes.

Meanwhile, Katherine sat in the car, unable to resist opening the envelope Lynch gave her. Inside was the bankbook she had left with Lynch—she hadn’t expected him to keep it.

By bank standards, accounts with no balance get warnings. If no deposits are made within a week, the account is closed.

This is for the bank’s convenience, especially in the pre-digital era when managing many bankbooks was manual work.

Empty accounts with no balance waste manpower, so worthless accounts get closed.

She felt a bit emotional, then dug deeper. There was a stack of money—fifty twenty-Sol bills, totaling one thousand Sol.

For her, this was a fortune. She had never controlled this much money before.

Just as she thought the envelope was empty and was about to discard it, it still felt heavy. She turned it upside down, and a ring fell into her hand.

A gold ring. She moved closer to the window to catch more light and saw an inscription inside.

“That bastard…” Her eyes quickly filled with tears, but she wiped them away and slipped the ring on. Just a bit too big!

As if explaining or talking to herself.

Outside the window, the scenery rolled by. Soon the car stopped outside Katherine’s home. A few street youths lingering around vanished instantly when the car stopped.

Everyone knew in this society, you might not respect the law, but you must bow to money.

Katherine thanked the driver and went inside with her bag.

Her parents gathered around, talking about the past two days she’d been away. The tense, serious atmosphere disappeared, replaced by her father’s hearty smile and her mother’s renewed glow.

Katherine felt helpless but not unhappy. This was her family—ordinary people, an ordinary family.

Thursday, a day with no surprises. The whole city of Sabin was overshadowed by rising unemployment. People’s faces on the streets were void of smiles, full of worry.

On such a day, a group prepared to bid at an auction.

Lynch changed into formal wear, feeling almost ignited. Luckily, the running car brought some hot wind.

Traffic was light. Cars then had no air conditioning, making each vehicle a little oven under the sun. Being important was not easy; at least ordinary people could take off clothes in such heat, but Lynch had to keep his shirt buttoned up.

The journey was smooth. He arrived at Sabin City Court on time. EverBright Group’s assets in Sabin were seized by the federal tax bureau, which tasked the city court to auction them. Attendees had to come here.

Lynch got off and went to Courtroom 9, following Ferrell’s instructions. Cool air flowed from the open doors.

At the entrance, two uniformed officers blocked his path, staring intently. “Sorry, sir, this auction isn’t open to the public.”

Some trials, auctions, or events allow public attendance; others don’t. The local newspaper states which are open. Those that are not open remain unknown to most.

Lynch showed them Ferrell’s card. One officer glanced at it, then at Lynch, signaled his partner aside, and returned the card. “You may enter.”

Lynch showed no displeasure or emotion. This was their job, and they were just doing it.

Inside Courtroom 9, about thirty people sat in groups. They glanced curiously at Lynch but said nothing.

He chose a seat near the back, alone. He understood Ferrell’s meaning and didn’t intend to disrupt a likely pre-decided auction.

Time passed. When the last two groups arrived, the police closed the door, and the auction began.

“Lot 1: a 17-story office building at 41 Sailin Road in the city center, with a total usable area of… including… facilities, market value 2.25 million, starting price 600,000…”

“Bidder number four raises the paddle, 600,000. Any higher bids?”

“600,000 first call…”

“600,000 second call…”

“600,000 third call!”

The auctioneer showed no interest in encouraging bidding. A building worth over two million sold at a shockingly low price.

Lynch saw deeper. Low price didn’t mean true value. Those who won would provide related jobs and recreate the assets’ social and economic value.

Even if he received some of these assets, he couldn’t manage them, especially factories. Beyond raw materials affordability, slow product turnover would choke his cash flow and bankrupt him.

Lynch watched coldly as one asset after another, worth hundreds of thousands or millions, was sold off at rock-bottom prices.

What those people had only dreamed of at his secondhand goods auction was surprisingly happening here: no one bid, and everything sold at the minimum starting price.

If those dreamers knew about this miracle, they would surely be pleased.

All participants seemed used to it. They weren’t surprised to snag items at the lowest prices. It was all a show, a performance designed to silence certain voices by following procedure.

Lynch had planned to just go through the motions, but then some auction lots caught his interest—some trucks.

Over thirty trucks and more than fifty trailers were going for only 110,000. The price was outrageously low, yet no one cared.

EverBright Group had its own logistics company. The bidders had theirs or partners’. They weren’t interested in EverBright’s trucks.

One truck meant one driver, so over thirty trucks meant at least thirty jobs, plus related positions. These assets created at least fifty salaries but lacked strong demand.

They were uninterested, but Lynch was intrigued. He didn’t disrupt the auction, just watched quietly.

The trucks eventually went unsold due to no bids.

After the auction, Lynch immediately called Ferrell to discuss. If no one took the trucks, Lynch wouldn’t mind taking responsibility to uphold federal law and local order and contribute his part.

After all, Lynch was a businessman with a strong sense of social responsibility.