Chapter 184: We Are Isolated and Helpless

When it comes to shamelessness and playing dirty, no one can match a nation.

When the president and his cabinet decide to sacrifice the interests of some ordinary people, no one can change that decision. It’s a rushed decision, because the Baylor Federation isn’t as perfect as they imagine.

The country’s economic and financial development is already distorted and twisted. It’s not an unshakable skyscraper but a tall building balanced precariously on a terrifying tightrope. Any small accident could bring it down instantly.

Many middle-class people are trapped by holding large amounts of bonds. With the president’s cabinet constantly passing the buck, even scapegoats can’t solve any real problems. This conflict only intensifies.

Then, on October 9, an article titled We Are Isolated and Helpless suddenly appeared. It blamed the president’s cabinet for every wrong decision since they took power, including their isolationist policy—the worst in history.

The article exposed all the hidden conflicts in the federation, using bond defaults as the starting point, revealing the federation’s harsh reality on the international stage.

As the article’s title suggests, the Baylor Federation is isolated and helpless internationally. The seemingly strong government has no solution or even ideas to deal with obvious rogue behaviors—they only sacrifice the people.

The article painted the federation as on the brink of collapse, weighed down by escalating class conflicts, social tensions, clashes between capitalists and politicians, and problems in education and healthcare. It’s like a leaking warship about to sink.

The very next day, after seven years of continuous growth, the federal industrial index experienced its first sharp drop, falling over 5% in just one morning.

The report exposed the bloody truth people tried to hide—some things can no longer be concealed.

This accelerated capital flight. Many international funds realized the federation’s boom was over; leaving money there meant sinking with it.

These international funds, with no loyalties, left without hesitation. Stock market volume fluctuated wildly. On October 11, the federal industrial index rose again, and most media gave positive summaries.

They said the October 9 crash was just a technical correction, a buildup to new highs. Experts even used a spring as an analogy on TV to explain why a drop releases energy for a rise and creates more room to grow.

In the following days, the market seemed stable and slightly rising, as experts predicted. But brokers and financial companies quietly stopped trading.

Trading volumes doubled the usual, some mistook it as a new rally, unaware of the hidden crisis.

Even real-world signs changed: housing prices in first-tier federal cities began to fall, long-term installment plans were offered, and banks tightened mortgage lending.

Everything seemed to improve. When people were confused about who to trust, at the end of October, the federal industrial index plunged 9% in a single day—the largest historic drop.

This time, no one smiled and called it a “technical adjustment.”

On the last Saturday of October, Lynch had just woken. Sitting at the dining table reading the newspaper, what should have been in color was suddenly black-and-white, like decades ago when printing technology was primitive.

The front page of the Trading Gazette had only one word, occupying the entire page: Disaster.

In just one day, hundreds of billions vanished from the federation’s markets. Every exchange was crowded. Even the much-followed bondholder groups found no sympathy.

Everyone talked about stocks—two crashes in one month was unprecedented, especially the last one, with some stocks losing one-third to half their value.

This drop was no longer a technical correction. It wasn’t about prices or parameters—it was about lives.

An uncontrollable panic spread quickly. Almost all financial newspapers switched from colorful printing to heavy black-and-white tones, as if mourning.

Reporting such pessimistic news didn’t help the markets; it burst the bubble.

Panic selling is hard to stop without state intervention, but the federation government clearly lacks the funds to bail out society.

Even if they did, they wouldn’t. If the Conservative Party let the government go bankrupt, they’d become a laughingstock—the first party and president to bankrupt the federation.

Just thinking about it sends chills down the spine. Rather than be a joke, they choose to ignore it.

Lynch remained calm reading the news. He hadn’t followed the market closely lately because he knew it was destined to collapse. External forces were only part of the problem; the federation itself had many internal issues.

Most fatal was the Conservative government’s isolation policy, which blocked international trade. History shows strong nations, including the federation, originally rose during the Age of Exploration—an era that did not favor isolationism.

Countries practicing isolation only grew weaker, while those engaging internationally and expanding through conquest grew stronger.

It was ironic—over a hundred years later, under Conservative leadership, a group afraid of war reversed history. Descendants of adventurous sailors feared the outside world.

But this wasn’t entirely bad. At least this disaster woke up the federation. Some things would now be easier to handle.

While Lynch ate breakfast, Ferrell rushed over, as Lynch expected. He came to ask about the financial market, believing Lynch to be more knowledgeable and mature.

“Bring breakfast for Mr. Ferrell too…” After Ferrell explained his purpose, Lynch sent for another breakfast and folded the paper aside. “This stuff doesn’t concern us much.”

His first sentence set the tone. “Sabin City has only two public companies. One has already delisted; the other would fail soon regardless of this crash.”

“The truly affected are those heavily invested in the stock market. They’ll lose everything. If they used credit loans, it could be worse, but they’re a small minority.”

Ferrell looked worried. “If most residents go bankrupt, even if the president’s cabinet gives financial aid, we can’t meet the city’s needs.”

Lynch smiled slightly. “You’re overcomplicating things. When people despair, their only need is to survive.”

“Whether they lived in big houses or drove luxury cars, after bankruptcy they’ll line up like everyone else for food aid. You just have to issue more food coupons and add some flour to the aid.”

He paused. “When it’s hard to provide, turning solid food into liquid form can feed more people without extra cost.”

“And hunger helps maintain stability among the lower classes.”

When people are too hungry to cause trouble, public order naturally improves.

Ferrell smiled bitterly, unsure what to say. Lynch’s cold rationality wasn’t typical of someone his age, yet he had to admit Lynch was right.

When external conditions don’t allow, people’s demands shrink to just staying alive.

The maid brought the breakfast. Ferrell thanked her and began eating. After a few bites, Lynch suddenly asked, “That article We Are Isolated and Helpless—it’s from the Progressive Party, right?”

Ferrell froze, then smiled. “Of course not. We wouldn’t do something that stupid. It wouldn’t help anyone.”

Lynch smiled at him. Under Lynch’s unwavering gaze, Ferrell’s appetite vanished.

After a pause, he took out a cigarette and lit it. “It was a decision by the top leaders; they just informed us.”

After receiving confirmation, Lynch nodded and smiled, saying, “This is politics.”

Ferrell seemed to sense a deeper meaning in those words and sighed, “Yes, this is politics.”