Chapter 149: Dignity

Lynch spoke gently, never giving off a harsh vibe. He seemed like a sunny, friendly kid from the neighborhood—familiar and approachable.

But at that moment, Lunetto felt something else. Lynch was like a mountain… no, like a cliff by the sea during a storm.

He stood firm in the endless ocean, battered by furious waves.

Yet the waves were just waves—after splashing, they vanished without harming him.

Lunetto was the wave—angry, resentful, sad, sorrowful—but facing Lynch’s sunny smile, all his emotions dissolved helplessly like foam on the water.

“No problem, Mr. Lynch…” he bowed his head, relieved. Tens of thousands in pure profit would keep his factory running another two or three months. That was good.

As for breaking the law… maybe he should find another way. Then he looked up sincerely at Lynch. “Mr. Lynch, I agree with your idea. When do we sign the commission agreement?”

Lunetto’s humility was only on the surface and born of having no way out. In this era, any self-made, successful businessman was never simple.

The commission agreement seemed like a guarantee for him, so he could rest assured and not fear Lynch backing out.

But Lynch was not as young as he appeared. In experience and wisdom, he far surpassed Lunetto.

He smiled slightly. “Mr. Lunetto, I believe true friends don’t need contracts or agreements to define their duties. Those are protections for strangers, but an insult to friendship. Don’t you agree?”

Lunetto nervously touched his hair, pleading in his tone. “Mr. Lynch, I’m in a tough spot. Having a contract would calm my workers and stop the bank from rushing my repayments.”

“It might mean little to you, but it means a lot to me.”

He looked pitiful but was far from helpless.

If Lynch and Lunetto signed a production commission, with Lunetto’s factory making clothes and accessories, then if the designers pursued liability, Lunetto could show the contract proving he only produced on commission. The real infringement would lie with Lynch.

Without that contract, if pursued legally, Lynch would bear minimal responsibility as the seller. He could even claim deception and sue Lunetto instead.

That simple paper defined legal liability clearly. Lunetto thought Lynch was too young to know all this, but Lynch knew everything.

Their eyes met, Lynch’s smile unchanged. “It seems, Mr. Lunetto, you’re not very interested in this cooperation…” He sighed lightly, pressed his hand on the sofa arm, and stood. “It’s a pity. If there’s a chance…”

“I agree!” Lunetto cut him off and stood. “I agree, Mr. Lynch.” His face was bleak, like fallen leaves in autumn.

Years ago, he would have thrown Lynch out without hesitation, but now he had to bear legal risks far beyond the profit for this money.

He had no good solution for funding. If the city hall or workers’ union thought he couldn’t keep production going, they’d reclaim the factory land—and then he’d have nothing.

All this was to survive. Only by surviving was there hope.

“Successful” Mr. Lunetto knew his troubles well. He didn’t choose emotion and break off but bowed rationally to keep his factory alive.

Lynch nodded with satisfaction, heading for the door. “Good, Mr. Lunetto. Send me your bank details. I’ll pay 30% upfront soon. When I see the first batch, I’ll pay the rest gradually. Any issues?”

Standing by the door, he looked back at Lunetto, who shook his head. “No issues, Mr. Lynch.”

Only then did Lynch turn and extend his hand. Lunetto walked over humbly and shook it. Lynch smiled, “Pleasure working with you, Mr. Lunetto.”

Whether Lunetto was pleased only he knew. He forced a smile and nodded, “Pleasure working with you, Mr. Lynch.”

Outside, watching Lynch’s car leave, Lunetto sighed deeply, punched the wall, then screamed in agony.

His secretary panicked, wanting to call an ambulance, but Lunetto stopped her, pale and shaking his head. “No, I’m fine. Tell the foreman to organize the workers…”

The secretary didn’t know what he planned but hurried away. Meanwhile, Lunetto poured water on his head and found a small bag of leftover bread crumbs. He smeared crumbs on his lips.

When the secretary returned, she was shocked.

Lunetto looked close to death, as if any moment could be his last. She didn’t understand why hitting the wall had caused this and began worrying about her job.

Lunetto wiped the crumbs from his lips and quickly went outside. Facing curious workers, he spoke sorrowfully, painting himself as a pitiful man who knelt begging for orders.

He told them this work was hard to get. If possible, they should work voluntarily. He couldn’t afford overtime, but he and the workers all needed to finish the order quickly.

Lunetto needn’t worry much. In this downturn, big companies wouldn’t waste money suing a small, near-bankrupt factory.

Lawsuits cost money. When lawyers start gathering evidence, money flows out like water. Big companies sue only for two reasons: to absorb other businesses legally or to dominate the industry by driving others away.

Faced with small businessmen like Lunetto and his infringements, big companies prefer not to act. They would spend a lot for no gain.

They wouldn’t get compensation because Lunetto’s factory could collapse anytime; lawyers would find this out.

They wouldn’t gain public support. People rarely see big companies as just, and stories often paint them as villains. Their lawsuits breed public dislike.

They gain nothing, spend a lot, and risk their image. With the economy weak, they avoid suing if possible.

This batch targeted the middle class. Lynch planned to bring them into the auction, having told other investors before that the Interstellar Trading Company must refine and segment its customers.

The secondhand goods auction would split into secondhand goods trading and secondhand goods auction as two separate businesses to divide the audience.

Ordinary people would flow into local secondhand malls or markets. The official Interstellar Trading Company would manage and sell some ordinary goods, while individuals could pay fees to trade privately.

Ordinary people, given the current economy, won’t have long-term spending impulses. After one or two splurges, they won’t spend more, and money will be tight. They’re better suited for cheap ordinary goods markets.

In contrast, the middle class would follow the same path as ordinary families, cutting expenses or already cutting them—but with more complicated circumstances.

In middle-class communities, there’s a special dynamic: comparison and attention.

Who does what business, where they work, what car they bought this year, what watch, what trips—they all spread through the community.

Everyone lives in comparison, needing to maintain their dignity. The way they maintain it is through consumption.

Lynch aimed to satisfy these people, letting them buy trendy styles at very low prices. As long as they kept quiet, no one would suspect—they’d have the means to consume fashionable products.