Chapter 274: Laziness and Arrogance

Mark was interested in most businesses. He helped the mayor manage the mayor’s assets, which, of course, was not illegal.

In the Baylor Federation, it was not against the law for politicians to have their own businesses. Many businessmen, when feeling the heavy burden on their shoulders or coming up with good ideas to help others get rich, would switch from being businessmen to politicians.

They didn’t have to sell all their assets when they became politicians, nor did they have to stop engaging in any business activities.

In the Baylor Federation, there was no such rule. The only thing these people had to be careful about was not abusing their power for personal gain. That was all.

The mayor handed over his assets to Mark mainly to avoid suspicion. It was like people thinking they could relieve themselves anywhere just because there was no sign forbidding it.

Although it wasn’t really illegal, it still made people feel uneasy.

Having Mark manage things was much more convenient. At least, the mayor could boldly tell the public they stood on the same side and even reveal the balance of his hidden accounts to show his noble character.

Besides earning a commission, Mark also invested his own money while managing these assets. Over the years, he had made a good amount of money. After all, having an uncle who was the mayor made it very hard to fail when investing in Sabin City.

After Lynch returned from Eminence, Mark approached him and mentioned a recent investment. Mark thought it was a very suitable opportunity, though he used his own money.

He pooled some money together and invested. Hart was a sensible person who offered Mark a very low price — only 250,000 to invest in a house.

Six years later, the house could be sold back to Hart at 50,000 each, doubling the investment. This rate of return fascinated Mark, and he wanted Lynch to invest with him.

It wasn’t that Mark had received any special favors from Hart; he simply wanted to share his successful investment experience, which was common in social circles.

That’s how insider information spreads — “You say you know this, I say I know that,” and soon everyone knows.

Lynch refused and said he had a better project, which perked Mark’s interest.

“What is it?” But soon he hesitated, “I’m a bit tight on cash now, you know, I just gave Mr. Hart over 200,000 in cash. I might not be able to come up with much money right away.”

Lynch waved his hand, “Money isn’t the issue. Listen to my project first, then think about the money.”

After Mark agreed, Lynch explained his plan. It didn’t involve any commercial fraud but was genuinely a good project.

“You know, in a few days the bank will auction some assets of the Liston Group to compensate those injured at work, who lost their ability to work and live.”

Mark nodded again. He knew about this and was involved. He had invested 100,000 in a charity private equity fund Lynch recently started, taking 15% shares. This fund would win the upcoming bid.

Lynch paused for about three or four seconds and continued, “Many families in Sabin City are facing huge difficulties. As a socially responsible and just entrepreneur, I have decided to take on this responsibility.”

“I will place orders with families urgently needing work, rent them sewing machines, and even subsidize some material costs.”

“They just need to produce the goods I require, and they will receive their deserved pay from me—much more than what they’d earn working in factories.”

Mark wasn’t interested in the first two sentences. He didn’t care about social responsibility or justice. His mind was only on eating, drinking, entertainment, and money. Nothing else distracted him.

From a loser’s perspective, this was Mark’s biggest failure. He never had to struggle; he got results without hard effort. Without an exciting process, the results naturally became dull.

Well, that’s a polite way to express envy and resentment.

What really caught Mark’s attention was the last sentence. “Much more money?” His voice rose slightly. “How much?”

Lynch smirked slightly, “You get paid based on how much effort you put in. Understand?”

Mark’s expression grew serious. He straightened up from his lazy posture, took out a pack of cigarettes, lit one, and said, “Explain in detail.”

“Currently, factories in the federation still pay hourly wages. Workers enjoy various legal protections. They can slack off at work but still get the same pay as others.”

“That’s actually unfair to us, because they gain rewards without earning them.”

“But now I have a new idea called the ‘piece-rate system.’ These small family workshops get paid based on their actual output. The benefit is if someone slacks off, they get nothing.”

“But you know, Mark, I have many things to do. I don’t have time to handle all these details. I need partners.”

“I’ll give you a favorable price. You can keep a good profit margin and then subcontract the orders to those needing work.”

“You’ll help your uncle and solve part of the unemployment problem. People with jobs won’t protest outside city hall all day, easing their financial stress. People will thank you for your kindness and generosity.”

“Everyone will praise you, and you’ll make money. Understand?”

Mark frowned, thinking for a while, then slowly nodded. “You mean I take this job, then subcontract it, and make some profit?”

Lynch nodded, exactly that.

But Mark shook his head soon after. “Sorry, I’m not interested. I’ll disappoint you.”

Lynch wasn’t surprised by Mark’s refusal. Mark was a typical rich man who didn’t earn his wealth himself. He didn’t want to do real work but wanted the privileges of money, power, and status—a common privileged family deadbeat.

As a friend, Lynch wouldn’t say that aloud; it was just a way to express it.

“If you’re not interested, fine. Someone else will be!” He smiled but knew Mark would come back eventually.

If Mark only invested his own money with Hart, and Hart ran off, Mark would lose hundreds of thousands. To cover that loss, Mark had to stop being picky and accept any opportunity; otherwise, he couldn’t recover quickly.

If the investment involved the mayor’s money, Mark would definitely come to Lynch. Clearly, this wasn’t a deal the mayor authorized.

For sensitive businesses like this, as the city’s leader, the mayor should understand this wasn’t a place to intervene.

If done well, people wouldn’t be grateful—they’d think the mayor was exploiting the poor. The poor were already so destitute, yet the mayor didn’t let up, damaging his image.

If done poorly, people would attack him from all sides, making him a notorious figure in York State history.

After that, Lynch and Mark discussed the cooperation they’d need going forward.

Three days after their meeting, the bank, commissioned by city hall, held a closed auction in a conference hall at the Sabin Hotel for some Liston Group assets. Lynch was there.

Many people filled the hall. Lynch thought George would be low-key and avoid showing any obvious connection to him, but surprisingly, George sat beside him and started talking.

“Is this okay?” Lynch handed him a cigarette and, while lighting it, leaned in to whisper. He meant that many bank staff and bidders were present.

As the auction organizer, George’s behavior might cause unnecessary speculation.

Unexpectedly, George abandoned his usual low profile. He sneered, his gaze slowly sweeping across several faces.

Everyone under his gaze lowered their heads meekly.

“It’s fine. They know what to do!” After being suppressed for half a year, George had regained his power—and now he was stronger than before.

Hundreds of bank employees had been fired for various reasons. At the Sabin City Bank’s quarterly meeting, these dismissed employees were deemed unfit to continue working. The risk department labeled them with an orange rating, indicating they might cause losses if they stayed. These people were either reassigned to remote locations or directly terminated.

But everyone knew the real reasons behind their dismissals. This made George extremely powerful within the Sabin City Golden Exchange Bank system.

Lynch stared at him, noting the arrogance on his face, and warned, “Your opponent made the same mistake. I don’t want you to be next.”

Honestly, this was blunt—almost like slapping the triumphant George across the face.

Yet this warning changed George’s expression. He grew serious, nodded slightly in acknowledgment, and returned to his seat.

He then asked a nearby bank staff member, “Has anyone seen my lighter?”