Chapter 217: Surrender, Lawyer, and…

After the shareholders’ meeting ended past lunchtime, Lynch was about to go out and get something to eat when Nail appeared with Tom.

Nail had decided to help Tom after all. Their thirty to forty years of friendship couldn’t be ruined by this matter; otherwise, their relationship and memories would mean nothing.

Just as Lynch stepped out the office door, he turned back and sat down behind his desk, looking at the two of them with his head slightly tilted. “So, what’s the matter?”

Tom looked lost, clearly struggling with some inner turmoil.

He knew Lynch and had been friends with Nail for decades; their families were close. From Lynch’s birth to his high school graduation, Tom met him once or twice a month when visiting Nail.

At first, Tom didn’t realize that the owner of the Interstellar Trading Company was Nail’s son. After all, there were many people named Lynch, just like his own name, Tom, which was common and shared by many others—including pets.

As someone from the lower social class, Tom lacked access and resources to understand the upper social structure, just like most people don’t know the top ten taxpayers or company owners in their city.

People didn’t care about such things; they cared more about tonight’s TV dramas or their work.

Until now, Tom never thought Nail’s son could pull off something so big, but the facts overwhelmed his mind, and he struggled to accept it.

Nail remained calm, or perhaps too shocked to react otherwise, but his attitude toward Lynch subtly changed. At home, he never spoke so calmly to Lynch. As head of the family, his tone was always commanding, leaving no room for refusal.

“Tom ran into trouble. They stole raw materials from the factory to produce a batch of goods, most of which ended up with you. We want you to return the items to him and try to help him get out of this mess,” Nail said, aiming to persuade Lynch. “Only his share matters; the others aren’t our concern.”

Nail made their purpose clear, but Lynch shook his head. “That’s not easy. No, it’s impossible.”

Seeing Tom gradually come to his senses and Nail looking confused, Lynch explained, “Even if you return those items, it won’t change the current situation. I already understand just from what you said.”

“No matter how much money you got selling those goods, it doesn’t affect your boss. Don’t worry about whether those items can be sold. It’s none of your concern.”

“In other words, to solve this, you have to raise the money. Otherwise…”

Lynch already foresaw the outcome: if they couldn’t pay, the court would enforce the ruling. The bank would auction their assets—their cars, if they had any, and their houses.

Suddenly, Lynch saw a business opportunity with the bank. These were prime assets, and their prices would be very low.

For such entrusted auctions, banks didn’t care how much the items sold for; they just wanted to close the case quickly and get their fees. Banks would be satisfied selling these assets at scrap prices.

At the next auction, they’d flip them for several times the profit.

Thinking this, Lynch was even less inclined to help. Besides, he barely knew Tom.

He remembered Tom vaguely, nothing more—except a few times in childhood when Tom had teased his masculinity.

For whatever reason, Lynch had no intention of helping Tom. He stood up. “Sorry, Uncle Tom, I can’t help with this…” He paused. “Want to grab lunch? I know a place with good veal steaks.”

Nail looked reluctant. “Is there really no way?”

Lynch shook his head. “If it were just a few thousand or tens of thousands, I could help. But not this.”

“Even if he pays his share, the total is still short. They’ll face legal judgment, so no one can help.”

He hesitated for a few seconds, which Nail and Tom noticed but didn’t interrupt, watching expectantly.

After about half a minute, Lynch’s expression grew serious. “Actually, not completely hopeless. We can talk about it over lunch. I’ve been in meetings all morning…”

They didn’t refuse. Lynch led them to a nearby restaurant that recently reopened.

During the big strike, restaurants suffered heavy losses, but unlike other shops, their damage was mostly stolen ingredients.

The loss wasn’t too severe; they only needed to buy new ingredients to reopen.

Seated in the empty restaurant, with only their table occupied, Lynch shared the only possible solution.

“If you can win your boss’s forgiveness and the judge’s sympathy, things will get a lot easier,” Lynch said casually while unfolding a napkin. “You must confess the cause, process, and outcome. Who initiated, organized, and carried out the crimes? How did you handle the stolen goods? Who distributed the proceeds? And your repentance, Uncle Tom.”

“Our law doesn’t tolerate criminals but is willing to help those who repent. If you do this, you might only face community service.”

Lynch emphasized the core point: “As long as it’s not a criminal penalty, it won’t stain your record or affect future job prospects.”

Tom looked pained and conflicted. He licked his dry lips, voice hoarse. “You want me to betray them?”

“Betray?” Lynch raised an eyebrow. “Why do you see confession as betrayal? You’re helping them face their mistakes and set an example by confessing their crimes.”

“But I must tell you, the judge only sympathizes with the first to do this!”

After a pause, Lynch added, “From what you said, it all started with that guy Heck. What’s his status now?”

Tom’s face darkened. “He’s been bailed out…”

Lynch showed a knowing expression. “I suspect Heck and your boss staged this to get the penalty money.”

“Over three million—enough for Heck to pay off debts and survive this financial crisis!”

Lynch’s words struck Tom deeply; it was indeed possible, or maybe Lynch was just very persuasive.

Soon the food arrived, ending the topic.

Tom mulled over Lynch’s advice while Lynch and Nail talked about Nail’s work.

One ate with appetite; the other stared blankly at the food he usually craved.

Afterward, Lynch returned to the office to handle accumulated tasks, while Nail and Tom went to the police station to surrender.

Tom made his decision at lunch—choosing between himself and others. This choice wasn’t shameful; ninety-nine percent would make the same.

But it wasn’t easy to move past. That afternoon, because of Tom’s surrender, the case made a breakthrough; the police gained key lists and critical information.

Seeing his old friend now a prisoner, Nail felt deeply moved.

That day, if he hadn’t stood firm on his principles, he might be the one locked behind bars now.

After comforting Tom briefly, Nail left the police station, fully aware that their decades-long relationship had ended today.

They were now on completely different paths, which deeply saddened the uneducated Nail.

The aftermath was even more troublesome than Nail expected. Soon after, court bailiffs came to Lynch.

They informed him that the items he purchased were stolen goods and had to be temporarily seized. Lynch said he needed to consult a lawyer before responding to the court.

This was a standard official reply. Most wealthy people could afford lawyers, who use their expertise to help clients avoid various troubles.

This is the value of wealth and proof of its power.

Shortly after the bailiffs left, a lawyer arrived at Lynch’s office.

“Mr. Lynch, before we begin, I must inform you that even if we don’t reach an agreement, you will be responsible for the fees incurred during our conversation, as well as my travel and communication expenses. Any questions?”