Chapter 297: Differences

How do you determine if someone is one of us?

It’s a complicated yet simple question. Complicated because humans are full of contradictions and deceit. People often express false attitudes that contradict their true thoughts and use disguises to hide their real selves.

In such a world of deception, no one can truly tell if someone is one of us.

But it’s also simple—so simple that early civilization found a way to prove it: prove your loyalty to a group.

How?

If you want to join a group of bad people and prove you’re one of them, do something bad—kill an innocent person.

If you want to join a group of good people and prove you’re not bad, the easiest way is to take down a bad person or destroy a bad group.

Mishehaye made the police chief apologize suddenly to test Lynch’s allegiance.

Sometimes the upper class of Nagaryll, like Mishehaye, feel confused—confused by foreign moral exemplars who use their standards to attack everything about Nagaryll.

Some investors even apply foreign standards in local factories—welfare, benefits, rest days—and they even demand human rights for workers!

Strictly speaking, these investors improving workers’ welfare is their own business. If they want to give better conditions, that’s their choice.

But these people become bad examples. Workers enjoying these benefits naturally spread the word, which is dangerous—not just because of envy or boasting, but because ideas spread.

If local companies follow suit, increasing benefits and rights, their profits shrink and expenses rise.

Over 70% of factories in Nagaryll are controlled by just 3% of the population. Welfare reforms would deeply harm them, and human rights issues would spark ideological clashes and worse political upheavals.

From the start, local rulers kept one rule: don’t let foreign corrupt ideas pollute the pure minds of the local people.

Even the temple priests sided with the rulers on this, describing foreign mainstream ideas as lies and viruses meant to destroy Nagaryll’s glory, urging people to reject the outside world.

Under this mutual blockade, Nagaryll’s people still believe foolish things—that curses bring revenge, they will be rulers in the next life, and resistance only brings destruction.

There are countless such foolish beliefs.

The only consolation is that people truly believe them.

Lynch made his stance clear, which relieved Mishehaye. At least this investor wouldn’t foolishly sympathize with the outcasts or push for welfare and human rights, so he wouldn’t threaten Nagaryll’s ruling class.

The convoy soon arrived at a modern hotel in a relaxed atmosphere.

The moment they entered, civilization greeted them; behind them, the savage world grudgingly receded.

Ignoring the street outside, the hotel itself showed no sign of being in a backward, ignorant region.

Its modern design gave a surreal feeling, as if suddenly transported back into a civilized society.

With the help of stylish waitstaff, Lynch and his group checked into the top-floor suite, occupying the entire floor.

Bodyguards began assembling various firearms they had smuggled in disguised as survey equipment.

“Boss…”

After showering and changing clothes, Lynch entered the living room, where Asel stood up.

Lynch gestured for him to sit, then sat beside him. “Tell me, what did you find?”

Asel took out several documents from his briefcase and handed them to Lynch.

“During my local investigation, I found something hard to explain.”

Lynch flipped through the papers, nodding noncommittally. “Go on…”

Asel gathered his thoughts and began sharing what he’d uncovered.

The socioeconomic situation in this city—and throughout Nagaryll—is unusual, primitive, and sharply different from mainstream countries.

Before, when Asel lived here, he hadn’t noticed. But now, standing from a higher perspective, he saw these issues clearly.

“The lower class runs in a way I can’t understand—self-sufficient. They barely earn money. Most trade is barter, making industrial products hard to reach ordinary homes.”

Because of poverty and backwardness, many Nagaryll people lack jobs. Asel had fully realized this during his time here.

At first, he thought his father and brother were cruel capitalists. Later, he understood—even though chemical work damages skin, causes deformities, or accidental death, people still take these jobs because they get money.

Money was invented to measure value, but the bottom class here isn’t even qualified to participate in this system.

It sounds absurd but is terrifying—money restricts many families’ growth and widens class gaps.

A closer look shows money only circulates among the upper-middle class. There is no real lower class.

Money isn’t all-powerful, but without it, nothing’s possible—education, healthcare…

Putting aside this heavy topic, internationally, Nagaryll isn’t seen as worthless.

It has about 220 million people, seen as a huge market. Many say when this market matures, it will lead global consumer trends.

But it might never mature because people have no money.

No money—not just poverty, but literally no money.

“Besides this, people’s consumption habits differ greatly from the Federation’s,” Asel said, showing more feeling when mentioning the Federation.

He longed for that civilized society and wished to return rather than stay here.

Lynch waved his hand. “I’ll look further into this. Tell me about wage demands—I’m more interested in that.”

Asel’s lips moved, his expression sad or otherwise natural. After a few seconds’ silence, he sighed.

“One sol a day—the Federation’s sol—buys at least twelve hours of work here.”

“As for welfare and benefits, they have no demands. If you provide a cheap lunch, they’ll work harder.”

Lynch’s smile grew obvious. “See, this place isn’t what you said before. There’s so much value here.”

“In the Federation, a worker must receive at least 220 units from the factory owner each month—about seven units a day. On top of that, we provide roughly two units daily for meals, plus various insurance and benefits.”

“To support one Federation worker here would support at least ten workers. That’s value, Asel. You need to learn to recognize and tap into value!”

“We can set up low-threshold, low-cost factories here that rely heavily on labor…” Lynch paused, then added, “Some chemical plants could be relocated here, along with our original plan for rough processing.”

“This place has abundant resources. We can find some, package them—I’m sure the wealthy will like them. And, of course, there’s the most important thing!”

Lynch smiled but didn’t say what the most important thing was. The trade of human commodities still needed confirmation with the local rulers.

He actually didn’t see it as a problem. For a ruling class whose hierarchy is fixed and decaying, as long as their power remains unaffected, they would welcome more wealth to satisfy personal indulgences.

Nagaryll isn’t an economically developed country. They have little of value to offer, causing a massive trade deficit internationally.

They must rely on partners to buy local specialties cheaply for foreign exchange, which they then spend.

If they were told that people they usually disregard could actually bring good prices and directly generate foreign currency, would they reject it outright?

Or accept it calmly?

That required further testing. Of course, Lynch wouldn’t say it so bluntly. Labor export sounds nothing like human trafficking; it’s simply organizing people to work abroad.

This not only eases Nagaryll’s social burden but also provides a way out for its people and opens a new revenue stream for the ruling class.

As Lynch spoke, the phone on the table rang. Asel answered. Seconds later, holding the phone, he looked at Lynch.

“Boss, the temple people are here. Do you want to see them?”

Just as no one in the Federation can avoid the tax system, in Nagaryll no one can escape religion.

Minutes later, two priests in distinctive robes arrived on the top floor, bringing blessings from the gods and the High Priest…