Chapter 150: Lynch, Who’s Never Afraid of Being Taken Advantage Of

Widely known and generally accepted social conventions are a very special social phenomenon. This phenomenon has existed since the very first day human society was formed and continues to this day.

People somehow develop a consensus about how to act at different stages of life. Often, no one explicitly tells them what to do—they just naturally learn these skills.

Starting from buying a secondhand entry-level luxury item, a person gradually becomes seen as wealthy. Along with the satisfying envy of others, they also gain respect.

This is an interesting social phenomenon. While we always emphasize respecting knowledge and cultured people, in reality, we only truly respect power and money.

The middle class, in order to maintain their dignity and social status, needs Lynch—and also those cheap high-end counterfeit brands they swear they won’t admit to wearing.

See? The problem is solved. Neither Lunetto nor Lynch speak of it, and naturally, those who buy these fakes won’t go around advertising them. Is there a more perfect connection than this?

No. So no one needs to worry.

After leaving Lunetto’s factory, Lynch’s thoughts turned elsewhere. He wanted to acquire Lunetto’s factory. This was related to some plans he had, but he also knew now was not the right time.

The situation hadn’t yet deteriorated to the point where the mayor or society as a whole would have to give in. So they kept deceiving themselves. This was actually a civilized society.

When they could no longer maintain their dignity and kindness, they would tear off the mask of hypocrisy and make people realize this was not a civilized society, but a society where people eat each other.

Only then would laws once considered fundamental have a chance to be changed. Lynch could wait; he had plenty of patience.

Later, he met the mayor’s nephew, a young man named Mark, about 25 to 28 years old, still a bit youthful.

Mark was enthusiastic and immediately talked about his uncle, the city’s ruler, and their conversations. He mentioned Lynch’s business and his intention to invest.

“I’ve already asked a friend to investigate. I must say, Mr. Lynch, you chose the right business at the right time. My uncle—the mayor of Landon—highly praises your performance. He always brags about your excellence to the family. It’s quite enviable.”

Mark was a skilled talker, as such roles usually require. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be entrusted with this job.

“I believe Interstellar Trading Company has great potential. You have an excellent management team and a complete development plan. If possible, I’d like to hitch a ride.”

Everyone knew—including Mark—that he was just a frontman. But he understood his role well; otherwise, the mayor wouldn’t have trusted him with such an important task.

Lynch nodded. This was agreed with the mayor. “Someone valued us at seventy million, but the mayor has helped me a lot, and I’m grateful. I’m willing to set fifty million as the baseline for financing.”

He glanced at Mark with a half-smile. “And you? How much do you want?”

Mark suddenly blushed, scratching his head awkwardly, looking like a nerd facing a girl for the first time—awkward and embarrassed.

But Lynch knew this was no good sign; Mark was about to ask for an exorbitant price.

Everyone has small tells to hide their true intentions. Lynch forced himself to keep all his natural and unnatural habits, emotions, and expressions unified into a smile. A smile relaxes people’s guard; there’s no better way to control a situation.

Mark’s tactic was to appear awkward and then push his demand.

As expected, Mark said shyly, “I didn’t expect the valuation to be so high. I only prepared 800,000, but I want 3% of the shares. It seems my information channel was off. What should I do?”

Under federal financial law, owning 3% of a company’s stock allows a person to attend board meetings; over 5% gives them voting rights on the board. His requested percentage was tricky.

3% is not offensive because shareholders cannot speak or initiate votes. They just sit quietly in the back or against the wall, listening silently.

This doesn’t cause much resentment—they’re like decorations in the boardroom.

But attending board meetings is valuable because it means the first stage of share acquisition is complete. The law requires shareholders holding over 3% to file a declaration with authorities and publicly disclose it.

The next stage, 5%, makes one a shareholder who can attend and participate in board meetings.

If someone skips these declarations, it’s considered malicious acquisition or illegal trading, allowing the company to sue and delay the process.

The benefit is that when someone acquires 3%, the company can respond—like raising share prices to discourage further acquisition.

Mark’s 3% could covertly increase to 5% without Lynch’s knowledge, giving board voting rights.

A mayor’s agent gaining voting power on a company’s board would be terrifying.

Mark and his uncle, the mayor, were very shrewd. Lynch believed Ferrell must know more detailed info.

Facing Mark’s request, Lynch hesitated barely a moment. Everything flashed through his mind like lightning. With a blink, he agreed.

“My uncle and I are members of the Progressive Party. We should help each other,” Lynch said, pursing his lips and nodding. “Prepare the contract.”

Such a frank reply made Mark hesitate. He had negotiated investments with many businessmen, who always bargained or angrily called the mayor accusing Mark of scheming.

Those people were foolish—an agent has no independent thoughts. Mark’s opinions represented the mayor’s. He neither dared nor had the authority to change the mayor’s will.

Better to be straightforward and maybe get some extra benefits.

Mark looked at Lynch strangely, especially his eyes—like he was looking at a fool or… something else.

He suppressed a smile. “You’re interesting, Mr. Lynch. I brought the contract…”

He pulled a contract from his briefcase, confirming the price was set by the mayor. There should be a second contract in the briefcase for slight price adjustments.

If Mark called the mayor, they’d talk and tweak the price slightly.

Lynch read the contract. No major issues. It covered transfer price, share ratio, future dilution, and share reduction.

Lynch flicked the contract, took out a pen, and signed it, followed by Mark.

Each kept a copy. The transfer was done.

Looking at the 800,000 bank draft, Lynch couldn’t help smiling. Whether happy or not, he always expressed it with a smile.

Mark was puzzled. This deal was essentially coercive pressure, yet Lynch showed no resistance and kept smiling, making Mark feel very strange.

He couldn’t help asking, “Mr. Lynch, is there something happy worth sharing?”

Lynch came back to himself, nodded, and while putting away the contract, raised an eyebrow and said, “Of course. You know how cunning the countryside rats are. Even the best housecats struggle to catch them. But recently, they’ve invented a new method.”

“They boil a mixture of starch and soup on the stove, and once it thickens and cools, they pour it where rats often appear. Overnight, many rats drown in it.”

“The sugar and starch attract the rats’ attention, but they don’t realize how sticky it is!”

Lynch smiled, stood up, and shook Mark’s hand. “I’m glad my company has its first partner, but I hope you’ll keep our deal confidential. You know, our market value is seventy million. Your 3% stake is worth two million now!”

“Of course, Mr. Lynch, I know what to do.” Mark shook Lynch’s hand firmly, then suddenly remembered something. “Are you free this weekend? Maybe we could play golf or grab a drink.”

Lynch shook his head. “I have a city hall meeting this weekend. Next week then.”

“All right, next week!”