Chapter 131: Integrity in Finding Lost Wealth

“Do you want those trucks?”

Ferrell, who arrived at the courthouse a little later, asked, smoking a cigarette. His face showed clear signs of fatigue, and it was rare to see him smoke before.

Smoking leaves a noticeable smell, which in many cases is considered rude. Most people avoid it, especially someone like Ferrell, an important aide to the mayor.

Their outward behavior often represents the mayor’s image. They’re frequently entrusted with key tasks, so many common personal habits are off-limits.

But right now, Ferrell didn’t care. Taking a deep drag softened his expression.

Flicking the ash, he glanced at Lynch. “Those trucks aren’t worth much, but they carry heavy obligations.”

“Thirty-three trucks plus forty-nine trailers mean you’ll need to provide at least sixty jobs, and those jobs can’t be cut during the term.”

He flicked the ash again. Getting multiples of something at a rock-bottom price always requires some form of payment.

The EverBright Group’s assets in Sabin City are being divided. Those who take these assets must bear the responsibility. They’ll have to provide hundreds, or even over a thousand, jobs.

And those jobs will only increase, never decrease.

There’s no such thing as a free lunch. Even if they cooperate closely with the mayor, no one just hands over such wealth for nothing.

Ferrell’s point was simple: acquiring these assets is easy, but maintaining them is hard. Sixty driver-related jobs paying at least 300 Sol a month each means a monthly payroll of 18,000 Sol.

The trucks may look cheap, but the jobs they create will cost Lynch over 200,000 Sol in salaries annually.

These wages support at least sixty families directly, affecting the lives of around 120 to 180 households.

For one or two years, as long as the mayor stays, Lynch can’t cut these jobs. If the economy falters or operations fail, these obligations will become a burden.

Other companies face similar risks. After seizing assets, some can’t handle the responsibility and go bankrupt, but everyone is gambling that the economy will improve before that happens.

Lynch lit a cigarette and took two puffs. “I have my methods. You don’t need to worry.”

Ferrell looked Lynch over carefully. Convinced he wasn’t bluffing or acting out of jealousy, he nodded.

He tugged Lynch’s arm and led him through several side doors to an office behind the courthouse. As the mayor’s frequent companion to events, Ferrell had some status locally.

He explained the situation. The court, understanding, accepted the explanation and agreed on a deal, slashing the already low price in half.

The reasoning was simple: the initial estimate was too high, so the court lowered it. That’s why it sold quickly.

To streamline offline operations, they just had to include this auction info as a telephone auction next time. No one could find a valid reason to object.

After paying less than 50,000 Sol in auction fees, Lynch received the keys and title certificates for the trucks. Seeing these small documents, he suddenly had a vague memory.

After chatting casually with Ferrell, the latter hurried away. He seemed busy… hopefully for the better.

Lynch soon placed the documents on George’s desk. The latter studied them carefully, smiling and shaking his head.

He examined every single one with expertise. Years of experience with certificates, bills, titles, and liability documents gave him a keen eye.

Especially for real estate and vehicle titles—just touching the pages gave him a rough sense of authenticity.

“Thirty-three titles…” George said, looking at Lynch. “And forty-nine trailers!”

He rested his arms on the chair’s armrests and sighed. “I’m not a cash dispenser, Lynch. You can’t keep coming here for money!”

Lynch’s intention was no surprise: to cash these out in full. This wasn’t a small sum — thirty-three trucks alone, valued at 35,000 Sol each, meant over a million Sol in collateral value.

Add forty-nine trailers, and the total was around 1.6 million Sol.

George’s implied concern didn’t bother Lynch. He smiled and said, “We’re friends, right?”

George recalled Lynch’s thank-you letter and the young man’s competence that made him look good in the system this year. Some even suggested skipping branch promotions and appointing him branch manager in Sabin City. He couldn’t refuse Lynch.

“It’s too risky!” George muttered. “You’ve taken a lot from me. If something goes wrong…”

Gatner Financial entrusted assets to Dyson Asset Management, which pledged them to banks for large cash loans. This created an endless cycle of funds moving in and out—about four million Sol involved.

Lynch himself had nearly 300,000 Sol mortgaged with the bank. Having mortgaged everything, George gave him the highest appraisals out of friendship.

Including these assets, their direct and indirect financial dealings neared six million Sol.

Any slip-up could sink that six million. George already felt pressure, and Lynch’s ambition was much greater than he expected.

Lynch cut him off, “These trucks will be managed by Dyson. Don’t worry.”

George raised his eyebrows, frowned slightly, and his mind raced. He stood, closed the door, and tightened the blinds.

After this, he sat back down. “You’re not planning to repay the loan?”

He asked for a reason. He’d assumed Lynch was mortgaging personally, which would be difficult. Such a large personal loan would attract criticism, even investigations, despite George’s influence.

A billion-Sol company borrowing ten million is normal and safe. But one person borrowing ten million invites suspicion and strict oversight.

That’s why he was uneasy. Occasional appraisal mistakes might be normal, but repeated errors are negligence.

He thought Lynch was mortgaging personally, but now it seemed he wasn’t.

If Dyson Asset Management took responsibility, the assets could be counted toward Dyson’s valuation. After investigation, the bank would approve the loan since Dyson had millions in assets backing it.

But George knew it wasn’t that simple. He and Lynch both knew Dyson Asset Management was a shell company with no employees. If it suddenly declared bankruptcy, the six million would become bad debt.

But such bad debt wouldn’t affect George. No one could predict this risk, and even if they did, it was hard to resist.

Recently, rumors circulated in the banking system that EverBright’s bankruptcy created bad debts of 37 million Sol across the six major banks, but none of the banks made a fuss or insisted on recovering the losses.

None of the handlers were punished either. This is normal; sometimes banks knowingly take on risky projects without hesitation.

It’s not that the people at the six banks are foolish—they have their own plans and calculations. Sometimes what looks like a loss is actually a gain through various operations.

In George’s eyes, Lynch is a bold, daring young man who takes risks. His first thought was that Lynch wouldn’t repay the loan, would let Dyson declare bankruptcy, and after liquidation, legally pocket the millions.

Lynch shook his head. “No, I don’t have a habit of not repaying debts. I’m just making it easier for you. And I don’t care much about this money. I just need some funds now.”

With this million-plus funding, plus the club’s land, he could soon gather around four million Sol in cash—enough to build his industrial layout in Sabin City and the whole state.

What he said was true—he hadn’t cared about this money yet. Even if he wanted more, this wasn’t the time or place.

If he was going to act, it would be big.