Chapter 161: Concepts and New Beginnings

“Another kid walking the tightrope!” Hart couldn’t help but sigh.

Only George understood what Hart meant. Over the past two years, concept ventures had become increasingly popular, and Eminence’s investors loved them.

Out of a hundred concepts, ninety-nine might never materialize, but just one success could drive people to pour money into these mere ideas—like the once-legendary SkyVoyage.

Someone presented a bunch of designs claiming to have solved some mechanical problems and built a prototype that could fulfill people’s dream of flying in the air.

Flying—whenever humans on the ground looked up at birds in the sky, it was their most impulsive desire: to soar freely like those birds in the blue sky. It must be wonderful.

Now, people heard they might actually fly. With original design drafts and a vague documentary, the company quickly raised over a hundred million from society. Even after the founder confessed, few wanted to believe it was a scam.

They preferred to see it as persecution from financial magnates and capitalists who wanted to monopolize the chance to fly, fabricating this outcome.

But the truth was the company was a fraud. The prototype and video were faked, just at a higher skill level than most. They captured people’s yearning for flight and made a fortune.

Too much money isn’t always good. The founder initially aimed to scam just a few million, then claim his experiments failed and he’d gone bankrupt, shaming himself while spending all investors’ money.

In reality, he would hide the money, and after some bankruptcy protection, live happily under a new identity.

But his designs perfectly matched the restless society’s hunger for freedom, attracting continuous capital and many ordinary investors.

If caught early, he might have served a few years in prison, or avoided jail by staging crashes to cover the fraud, causing investors to pull out.

But with over a hundred million raised, he realized the disaster he’d caused, risking a lifetime in prison and a grave beneath its walls.

So he surrendered. The myth shattered, yet a legend was born, ushering in a concept era akin to scams.

Any concept could attract speculators and big money. People became addicted to this gambling-like game, much to the despair of old-school businessmen.

They worked decades, but lost to a mere gimmick. That was reality.

Hart saw Lynch as such a man playing with concepts—playing with fire but envying his wealth. Lynch may have done little, only spoken a few words, yet secured massive investment.

Hart, after years of effort, had his achievements wiped out by a recession and was crushed by reality.

George shook his head and said nothing further, knowing Hart wouldn’t change his mind now. Better to wait until he calmed down.

Hart was also good at seizing chances. After learning about cheap housing policies, he immediately prepared a project. If all went well, he could make millions or tens of millions after it ended.

Tenant rent would cover daily costs; government subsidies were substantial. If the recession lasted long, subsidies alone could cover their costs.

Later, selling the apartments would be pure profit, plus hiding other industries under the company to gain tax breaks. To others, Hart was a man who grasped opportunities well.

But Lynch was different. He created opportunities. The chances Lynch held were first-hand—made to serve himself and fit him perfectly.

Like why high society only hires unknown tailors, not famous designers, for custom clothes. Store-bought sizes never fit perfectly; they only roughly suit most body types.

To the elite, wearing mass-produced luxury was no different than wearing five-Sol clothes from the street.

Only tailored fit achieves the best effect. That was why Lynch could turn an unnoticed idea into something big, while Hart could not—he only seized leftover chances and adjusted himself to fit them, limiting his gains.

Putting this aside, Lynch sat in the car, already planning the auction on Friday. They had opened a branch in Kurland City, chosen the venue, and sent some goods there.

The business was launched by the mayor of Sabin City and approved by the governor, a statewide policy no one dared interfere with, only cooperate.

This sped up venue rental for Kurland auctions, which had been stuck before. They all agreed to use Kurland City’s sports stadium, arranged personally by Richard.

Richard told Lynch that other cities planned to use stadiums too—to give a unified impression that would elevate the auction’s prestige, plus stadiums were more suitable.

Lynch was busy, so he left it all to Richard, only caring about results.

The auction was just days away. With the school term starting in September, Lynch planned to go to Kurland with Katherine to help her settle.

The next day, after adjusting his schedule, Lynch called Katherine. When her slightly breathless voice came through, he smiled.

He knew why—her home was about fifty meters from the phone booth, and she must have run up and down stairs.

Hearing his laughter, she guessed who was calling and casually asked why. She agreed to Lynch’s plan.

Even if Lynch hadn’t thought of this, she planned to visit Kurland ahead of time. Her college life couldn’t be confined to campus; she needed to explore the city and learn which places were safe.

Every city in Baylor Federation had dangerous areas filled with crime that decent people avoided.

Katherine was glad Lynch thought of this. After setting a time, she hurried home to pack.

Her mother was surprised, holding a carrot as thick as a small arm, standing outside Katherine’s room. Watching her busy inside, she asked, “Where are you going?”

Carrots were among the three common foods for ordinary families, along with potatoes and cheap chicken. But chicken was often bone-filled and pricier than vegetables, so not everyone liked it.

“To Kurland. School’s about to start, and I need to adjust. I’m a bit nervous…” She stopped and looked at the elderly woman by the door. “It’s been two years since I last felt the school atmosphere. I’m worried I’ve forgotten some things.”

Two years was enough for even a good student to forget shallow knowledge, and with a dull, tiring life, her worry was justified.

The woman didn’t care. Since her husband—Katherine’s father—got a new job, she felt they had lost control over Katherine.

“Want your brother to take you?” the woman asked again.

Katherine shook her head and resumed packing. “No need to trouble anyone. Lynch will pick me up.”

The brother was actually Katherine’s cousin—the most successful in the family, inheriting a small farm, the family’s pride.

But compared to Lynch, the woman wisely fell silent and returned to the kitchen to prepare food. Her husband would be hungry when he came home. Those capitalists were truly ruthless—not that she meant Lynch.

Regardless of any regret she might have felt or Lynch’s return to Katherine’s life, nothing much had changed from yesterday or the days before.

The girl went about her tasks while the woman hummed an old tune, the small pot bubbling with simple yet tempting aromas.

An ordinary day.