Chapter 208: If You Can’t Beat Them, Join Them

The two companies in Sabin City that specialized in selling industrial generators never imagined they would soon be on the brink of bankruptcy. Suddenly, a citywide blackout struck without any warning.

Then, merchants appeared outside their stores in trucks, discussing purchasing generators.

In the city hall downtown, the mayor was meeting with some officials and businessmen, with Lynch among them.

“We must ensure the city continues to operate despite this massive strike. I need you to talk with the strike organizers and leaders to find a solution. Entrepreneurs must cooperate.”

“Other matters can wait, but essential service providers must resume work quickly.”

“Power plants, water plants, gas stations… I will send police to assist you. If some people resist…” The mayor scanned the room, his anger evident. “The police will handle them.”

These facilities are critical to a city’s functioning. Without basic utilities, the city risks descending into anarchy.

Without communication, electricity, or running water, people will feel everything is out of control. Social order will collapse instantly, and humanity’s destructive instincts will surface, turning the situation into a disaster.

The police chief raised his hand. The mayor furrowed his brow slightly before relaxing and nodded. “Chief, do you have any suggestions?”

The police chief, a somewhat overweight man in his forties—a typical physique among federal police, believed to intimidate criminals and caused by long hours and high-calorie diets—looked troubled.

“Sir, with all due respect, the police department is in a tough spot. I’ve received numerous resignations this week. We don’t have enough manpower to maintain daily order…”

It was clear the police didn’t want to get involved in the strike. The mayor’s warning that police would act if people resisted had angered the strikers. The police were in a vulnerable position; strikers dared to attack them, but police hesitated to shoot.

If the situation escalated and someone was shot or killed, both the officer and the chief would suffer consequences. The chief had no intention of changing jobs in these hard times.

The mayor said nothing but looked at him sternly, making the chief uneasy. “We could have the militia or military assist…”

The chief’s suggestion drew amused expressions. Bringing in military or militia on a large scale would signal the city was out of control, damaging the mayor’s reputation and possibly ending his political career.

The mayor rejected the idea outright. “Do as I say. Other matters can wait. I understand your difficulties; can you understand mine?”

The chief nodded awkwardly and sat down. “Alright, I’ll try.”

At that moment, Lynch raised his hand. The mayor glanced at him and then nodded. “Let’s hear from Mr. Lynch.”

Though the tone wasn’t friendly, Lynch didn’t mind. He asked, “Why not temporarily place power, water, and energy companies under city hall’s unified management?”

The mayor shook his head. “Private property is inviolable under the charter. The federal government wouldn’t support that…” He paused. “Anyone else want to speak?”

Except for government and military, most assets in the federation are privately owned. The federal budget cannot support running everything, nor guarantee profits.

The government cannot exploit workers like businessmen, so many enterprises remain privatized and run by ruthless businessmen who ensure profitability.

Public transit is a prime example: initially managed by local governments, these services soon ran deficits, creating conflicts between public demand and fiscal constraints.

Eventually, legislation allowed transit to be run by local government or private companies, with subsidies and incentives, greatly reducing government spending while meeting public needs.

With new challenges, city halls have stopped managing such services, leaving them to business owners.

Every advantage has drawbacks, and now those drawbacks are showing.

The meeting lasted past two in the afternoon, focusing mainly on restoring order quickly.

To resolve the crisis, the strike must end.

Stopping the strike requires negotiations on wages, benefits, hours, and more jobs — none of which are easy.

On the way back, Jack deliberately avoided streets with marches. Despite detours, the route was quiet and safe.

“Do you know their march routes?” Lynch asked from the back seat, lighting a cigarette.

Jack kept his eyes on the road. “Sir, this isn’t a secret.”

Lynch raised an eyebrow. “Our community is affected too?”

Jack didn’t answer immediately. Lynch smiled. “We’re just talking; no one else will know.”

With that assurance, Jack nodded. “The union contacted us, asking for support. They gave us times, locations, and march lengths, but as you know, we have to feed our families…”

“Understandable.” Lynch nodded without further comment, staring out at the bleak streets as he rolled up the window.

The autumn wind blew cold; Lynch hated this chill.

He knew this wind felt good now, but when his body weakened with age, he would pay for this moment of ease.

“Go to the social services bureau…” Lynch suddenly changed course.

Jack said nothing and adjusted the route.

About ten minutes later, the car slowed and stopped. Children suddenly ran out by the roadside, some wiping the car with towels.

Jack got out immediately but didn’t scold or shoo them away. Instead, he patiently handed out coins and small bills, thanking the kids and cleaners before they left.

After ensuring no one would disturb Lynch, he opened the car door for him.

“You’re good at handling this kind of thing,” Lynch said casually from inside.

Jack smiled. “I understand their feelings. Only wealthy big shots like us can come here.”

Lynch nodded and told him to wait roadside. He entered the social services bureau alone, shortly followed by Asel.

“Register a new asset management company…” At Lynch’s request, Asel registered a company named Sabin City Starlight Public Services.”

After completing this, he gave a few instructions and then drove back home.

Suddenly, Lynch realized this was a special opportunity.

Owning the power company wouldn’t just generate profit—it would also increase his influence.

These essential service companies control how a city operates; their voices carry more weight both socially and with officials, and the public is more receptive to them.

Lynch believed that if the negotiations failed this time, it meant he had an opening.

Meanwhile, the police chief returned to the station and relayed the mayor’s demands to his officers. The police station immediately erupted in turmoil.

Around six in the evening, the mayor finished a long, exhausting day. Dinner had become his only escape from reality—a time when no one disturbed him with troubling news.

Tonight’s meal was top-quality seafood from the southern hemisphere, sent by Mark, who had even arranged for a chef to prepare it.

But just then, a phone call ruined his appetite.

The police… had gone on strike!