Chapter 270: Just Look at Him

Proving one’s worth to their parents is almost a unique trait of youth, a mindset inevitable in the process of growing up.

Many young people go through this. The most direct behavior is: You say I can’t do it? Then I’ll do it—and show you.

This mindset, this way of thinking… sometimes it’s foolish, but that’s exactly the beauty of youth. They haven’t yet been worn down by society or the world. They still have edges. They still feel love and hate intensely.

They dare to challenge the impossible, to say no to authority. Whether or not they succeed doesn’t matter—they have courage.

That courage gradually fades after forty. Time and experience wear down their sharp edges, letting them blend more smoothly into society, becoming just another part of the system.

It’s both a good thing and something to mourn.

Wadrick’s wife looked at her daughter, reached out and gently touched her cheek. The soft, smooth, youthful skin sparked a trace of envy.

At her age, maintaining her looks and figure without a steep decline required spending large sums of money on her body.

All kinds of cutting-edge products had been used on her to keep her appearing in her thirties.

But the girl in front of her didn’t need any of that. She naturally radiated her beauty. Sometimes, time really is a cruel beast—turning the present into tomorrow’s memory before you even realize.

“You did it,” she affirmed. “You don’t know how surprised your father was to see you here. You succeeded.”

Severella’s excitement rose. People often assumed she was lucky to be born into such a family—and in many ways, that was true. But it didn’t mean she had no frustrations.

Everyone introduced her as Mr. Wadrick’s daughter, Miss Severella. She didn’t dislike her father’s name. She didn’t even hate being linked to it. What she disliked was being seen only through him.

She wrote books. She carefully built her social network. She even owned a small, not-very-famous fashion accessory brand—and she was its designer.

She did all this to earn recognition. She wanted people to understand—her parents included—that even without being Mr. Wadrick’s daughter, she could succeed.

Even if the thought itself was foolish. Everything she had now was built on the foundation of being Mr. Wadrick’s daughter.

All her success came from her name, her family.

But… sometimes people just do foolish things—whether it’s the thing that’s foolish, or themselves.

Hearing her mother’s approval made Severella truly happy. Their conversation quickly shifted away from Lynch, turning to the little business Severella was managing. It was as if they had forgotten Lynch entirely.

Elsewhere, Truman was chatting with several presidential aides and international affairs advisors. The conversation was still related to the topics Lynch had previously raised.

On the surface, they all agreed Lynch’s words were a bit too radical—unsuitable for the current environment and domestic climate.

The president had only just reframed the former administration’s isolationism as escapism. The country was still in a transitional phase.

The Federation’s active participation in international affairs hadn’t yet yielded visible benefits for the public. Until the people saw and felt those benefits, they weren’t convinced that engaging globally was inherently right.

There was still hesitation. Doubt. If, at this moment, global involvement suddenly became framed as an impending economic war with the international community, it might spark fierce public backlash.

This was a long-term goal—not something achievable in the short term.

“Recently, Gephra implemented a new monetary policy in the Amellian region. I think they’ve realized it too—how vital the economy is to a country, to a region,” Truman said.

Gephra was one of the biggest victors of the last world war, and one of the most powerful among the victorious alliance.

They had secured administrative rights over Amellia. Their defeated enemy had leased around 920,000 square kilometers of land to them for 120 years as war compensation—free of charge—and recognized Gephra’s sovereignty there during that period.

Gephra immediately established the Province of Amellia and dispatched a duke as governor. His first act was to abolish all existing legal currencies in the region.

They did it gently—exchanging the old currency for Gephra’s at international rates. In effect, the currency was unified.

Meanwhile, Gephra had been lobbying other victorious nations to support either its currency or a new international one to act as a global settlement currency. So far, it was only in the proposal stage, with nothing yet passed.

No matter how charming their diplomats or emperor sounded, something about it all felt off—though no one could say exactly what.

Strangely, the reasoning behind the proposal made perfect sense. Their foreign minister had explained that international trade often involved exchanges between several currencies. Fluctuating exchange rates could lead to unpredictable losses for traders.

If there were a universal currency, it would eliminate that problem—ensuring neither businesses nor governments suffered from currency instability.

They also pointed out that the defeated nations were printing money like mad to pay war reparations.

Naturally, once those currencies flooded the market, they’d be worthless. All the gains secured at the negotiating table would vanish, erased by this shameless tactic.

It was tempting. But still, something felt wrong.

The Baylor Federation had stayed neutral—though slightly leaning in favor of the idea. The President’s view was that, since they were just returning to global affairs, they couldn’t appear standoffish or burn bridges.

Even if they didn’t vote in favor, they couldn’t oppose it—especially not a key ally like Gephra. The President wanted to stay in their good graces.

But thinking it through now, Truman believed the problem was far bigger than it first appeared.

“We won’t make a statement on this for now. Let’s strengthen domestic economic controls and wait for things to clarify before deciding on a position.”

At that moment, someone interjected, “Why don’t we talk directly with Lynch? I’m sure he’d be willing to share what he knows.”

Truman shook his head. “Now’s not the time. What he said today is bound to spread. If we bring him in, it’ll signal a change in our stance—possibly causing unnecessary trouble.”

“Though the previous president is gone, many still support him. If we suddenly push for non-military international confrontation, we might give him a chance to return—or at least breathe new life into escapism.”

“Gentlemen, we’ve achieved our current position by standing on the ruins of those failed ideas. We can’t let them have even the smallest chance to rise again. Do you understand me?”

The others nodded. They understood—it wasn’t the time to get too close to Lynch.

“So what, we do nothing for now?” someone asked, visibly unwilling.

Truman smiled and shook his head. From a distance, he glanced at Lynch, who was chatting with Mr. Wadrick. Lynch seemed to sense it instantly and met Truman’s gaze.

Wadrick noticed Lynch suddenly looking elsewhere and followed his gaze.

The three men’s eyes met mid-air, and they all raised their glasses in acknowledgment.

After taking a small sip of wine, Truman looked away. “Young people always have an endless need to perform. Even if we don’t approach him, he’ll find a way to tell us what he wants to do, what he will do, and what he plans to do after it’s done.”

Perhaps sensing that others might not fully grasp his point, he added, “I recall there was an application from York State?”

One of his aides immediately nodded. “Yes, some merchants applied for international trade permits.”

Truman nodded. “Have someone check if Lynch is among them. If he is, approve his request for international trade. If he’s not, send someone to persuade him.”

“Once he’s out at sea, all we have to do is watch what he does.”

“Then we analyze his actions, what triggered them, how he executed them, and what his goals are. That will reveal the things he may want to say but has no platform to express.”

A faint smile appeared on Truman’s face. Deep down, he was one of the most radical among the radicals—but he knew how to control his emotions and desires so they wouldn’t cloud his judgment.

Some of the things he couldn’t yet see clearly—he might find answers to them in Lynch.