Chapter 168: Sense of Smell

The brief exchange had basically confirmed that the upcoming issue was only about the proportion. Merchants in Kurland City started investigating Lynch and his Interstellar Trading Company overnight.

A company valued at seventy million during an economic recession is something any capitalist would be very interested in.

After a few rounds of financing, it could apply for listing, potentially creating another wealth legend!

Soon, more detailed information appeared before Kurland City’s capitalists, including Lynch’s birthplace and who delivered him—nothing was missed.

This is the great power of money. Once spent properly, no secret in this world can remain hidden.

Thus, these people realized the true value of the Interstellar Trading Company.

But their understanding was not the same as Lynch’s. For these capitalists, the business’s value lay in how easily it could secure bank loans.

This made the company’s accounts look good. Even if the company lost ten million in a year, as long as they borrowed twenty million, the financial report could show a net profit of ten million, causing the stock price to soar and rapidly expanding their wealth.

Conscience, morality, ethics—these no longer mattered to capitalists. They sought only profit and valuable returns.

Lynch’s suspected girlfriend, Katherine, also caught some people’s attention, and her name was added alongside Lynch’s on some hero lists.

The power of money is truly incredible.

The next day, Lynch helped Katherine find a house next to the state university. If she didn’t want to live on campus, she could live off-campus. He also prepared all the daily necessities she might need.

Some students had already arrived early for the university opening next Wednesday. Katherine suddenly grew a bit melancholic.

At the end of the day, Lynch stood outside the new house. Katherine held his hands with both of hers, just like years ago.

“I don’t know what to say. It’s amazing, you know?”

Her voice was low. “I thought I was unlucky enough, but you played a joke on me. Still, I want to say thank you, Lynch.”

The girl’s gem-like eyes looked directly at Lynch, filled with curiosity, reluctance, and growing excitement.

“Thank you for what you’ve done. I’ll work hard on my studies to prove that the money you spent was worth it.”

Lynch sighed and pulled her into his arms, kissing her forehead.

“I have one piece of advice: no matter what choices or difficulties you face in the future, never forget your original dream.”

He stepped back, recalling his earlier self—struggling desperately, just wanting to have some money at the end of the month, to afford a down payment on a small house, and to live a simple life.

He never intended to ride the waves; he was forced into it.

The girl didn’t fully understand but remembered his words.

They looked at each other for a moment. Lynch smiled, took a step back, waved his hand.

“It’s time to say goodbye. I’m leaving first. Call me anytime—you know my number.”

Katherine leaned against the door, nodded. After another glance, Lynch turned and left. Soon, his car disappeared into the night.

Perhaps this was the best choice for now. Everyone returned to their own path. If possible, if everyone worked hard, their paths might intersect again.

But if someone didn’t try, those paths would remain parallel forever.

After settling Katherine’s matter, Lynch devoted all his energy to negotiations with two groups. He had a major advantage: he could use the competition between them to push up prices.

Just before Lynch returned to Sabin City, things changed again. A newly established company, Dyson Asset Management, announced it wanted to invest in Lynch’s Interstellar Trading Company, demanding no less than a 5% stake.

The sudden third-party entry disrupted the previously orderly competition, making Lynch’s position even harder to predict.

After the meeting, a tall, thin man called Sabin City’s Social Services Bureau to check Dyson Asset Management’s registration.

It was undoubtedly a Sabin City company. The business card they had bore the abbreviation for Sabin City after the company name, while Lynch’s card did not—he considered himself a citizen of the whole world.

Most people add their location abbreviation on their business cards for recognition, making Sabin City’s capitalists a different model. Luckily, they didn’t see it as an insult but took pride in it.

Since it was a Sabin City company, it fell under the Social Services Bureau’s jurisdiction. Soon, the bureau reported back: the registered capital was one million, and it was wholly owned by a single shareholder.

Because the company had only one shareholder, they were not required to disclose further details publicly.

Even if the tall man spent money or pulled strings, he couldn’t find out more.

Some things everyone tramples on freely, because in people’s eyes, that’s the right and normal way.

What was once unreasonable had become accepted.

But some rules remained unchanged for safety reasons.

The tall man, after hanging up, paced his room while his companions on the sofa watched silently. The atmosphere was heavy and oppressive.

Lynch insisted the cash portion not be less than 33%, which was hard for them to accept. People saw 17% and 33% as not very different—17% is about 20%, 33% about 30%. Math is funny that way.

But this was a small percentage only in concept; in reality, it was nearly double. They would have to pay twice the cash originally planned to get what they wanted.

How could they accept that?

This caused many problems. If they got the shares as initially planned, they’d pay too much cash, risking their own business in the short term.

Running a physical business is risky. Costs come every month, regardless of profits.

If they wanted to keep some cash, they couldn’t take too many shares, maybe only 10–15%, which wouldn’t meet their original demands.

Their real goal was greater influence on the board—that was most important.

Though Lynch held the most shares now, after the first round of financing, the second and third rounds would dilute his stake.

Whether newcomers bought shares from him or diluted all shareholders, everyone followed an unspoken rule: the founder’s shares could only decrease, never increase.

This informal rule existed to sideline founders and take over their wealth.

Indeed, capital preys on capital. No shame in admitting it; if it can be done, it will be done.

This is the way of the capital game, the most criticized method—plunder.

So they demanded about 30% equity to keep as much as possible after successive financing rounds.

More shares meant more board control—crucial.

Now the situation had become complicated. Even more troubling, Dyson Asset Management agreed to Lynch’s terms. They signed a letter of intent to acquire 5% of the company with 33% cash equity.

A little over one million in cash, plus some other assets, secured 5% of the shares.

If no one agreed, Lynch would eventually have to compromise. That’s how business works: you give a little, I give a little, and in the end, everyone accepts it.

But now that someone agreed, it meant Lynch’s terms matched the company’s perceived value. To push further would be unreasonable. Even if Lynch refused their investment, no one could complain.

If they can accept it, but you can’t, that’s not business—that’s causing trouble.

The tall, thin man hated this disruptor. He cursed under his breath, essentially saying not to investigate who was really behind the company. If they found out, he would make them pay.

Mid-rant, he paused, then frowned. “Do you think it’s possible that Lynch himself is behind Dyson Asset Management?”

As soon as he said it, he felt like he’d discovered the truth. His tone quickened with confidence.

“It’s very likely Lynch registered Dyson early on to intervene when standards got too high for us. Now it’s hard for us to act, and he’s maintained his bottom line.”

“I don’t think anyone’s stupid enough to agree to Lynch’s terms outright. We could have pressured him together. That company has to be Lynch’s own!”

He spoke with absolute certainty, as if he had uncovered fatal evidence like a detective piecing together clues.