Chapter 300: Shared Development

“I welcome you on behalf of the people of Magulana, Mr. Lynch from the Federation!”

The governor spoke fluent international language, making Lynch understand without guessing—something rare in many backward countries.

Many backward nations have a puzzling confidence, believing others must accommodate them, not the other way around.

Ignorance, arrogance, and pride define such backwardness.

Lynch felt none of this here. The governor was unlike any ruler from a backward region. His style, attitude, and flawless language created a sense of disconnect from his background.

He was no ordinary man—his command of language alone showed that.

Lynch’s mind raced, but his face held a clean smile. He extended his hand to the governor, feeling the warmth and firm yet unhurried grip.

No success is accidental; luck may come briefly but never lasts.

“I’m honored to visit this rich land. To me, it’s full of miracles and potential!” Lynch’s words made the governor’s smile warmer.

The governor shook his hand firmly before releasing it. “No need for flattery. I know exactly what kind of country Nagaryll is. We are far behind the major powers internationally, which is why we need you and passionate friends like you.”

“We have much to learn in science, technology, and advanced management. For every friend willing to help, we won’t hesitate or let them suffer!”

Sometimes, people only say half to avoid awkwardness—here the governor left unsaid: “If you’re here to take advantage, we won’t let you get away with it.”

Though unspoken, Lynch understood the warning.

His expression serious, Lynch stood before some journalists, including internationals from the Federation.

This was planned by Asel and Mishehaye: Lynch’s investment in Nagaryll should be publicized locally and abroad to promote the country.

Once people see Nagaryll as promising, Federation investors would flock like rainclouds, showering money across every inch of land.

After consulting with the governor, Mishehaye agreed to let reporters witness this historic moment firsthand, strengthening Lynch’s safeguard—international attention.

With Federation focus, even if Nagaryll’s people wanted to harm Lynch, they’d face diplomatic consequences, giving him a chance to turn the tide.

Cameras flashed briefly as their hands parted, then paused, gathering energy for more flashes.

After official words, the governor shifted to a more personal talk—though at his rank, nothing is truly private.

“Lynch, may I call you that?” With Lynch’s nod, the governor dropped the “Mr.” and said, “When I heard someone was coming to invest here, I was surprised—not out of modesty, but because I know Nagaryll well. What exactly attracted you here, and what do you plan to invest in?”

People edged closer, while those less qualified moved away—Nagaryll’s rigid class system governed every interaction.

Lynch took a glass of sparkling wine from a waiter and cleared his throat.

“As you said, Drag—you forgot, we’re friends now!” The governor acted open and modern, but Lynch knew this was a mask.

Dressed traditionally, his progressive airs were just a façade.

Lynch didn’t call it out but bowed slightly, appreciative. “I’m honored… As Drag said, many still see Nagaryll as it was years ago.”

“They think it’s poor, backward, maybe with some mineral resources but undevelopable.”

“Harsh environment limits mining and transport. Some with ulterior motives dismiss this land as worthless!”

Though outwardly calm, many felt discomfort. As ruling elites, the worse Nagaryll’s state, the more they seemed useless. They couldn’t be happy.

Lynch quickly shifted tone, skilled in rhetorical uplift.

“But I think people overlook much.”

“We can’t judge society’s progress solely by its economic output.”

“Cultural growth, changes in people’s lives—all represent progress and value far beyond wealth.”

“Nagaryll’s biggest advantage, as I and my assistant Asel have noted, is its relatively cheap labor. That is its greatest asset.”

“Someone once said, in the new era, people are wealth. I agree, and this fits Nagaryll well.”

“We lack many things, but not sincere desire to develop rapidly nor hardworking people.”

“I will gradually invest in Magulana to build at least five factories, each providing no fewer than a thousand jobs. I’ll also invest in roads, railways, river improvements, and land reclamation.”

“Additionally, I will regularly send groups willing to learn abroad to acquire advanced skills and knowledge.”

“These people will return to contribute to Nagaryll’s transformation. That is my plan.”

Lynch stood among the crowd, pointing upward at the dome.

“Investment isn’t exploitation—it’s mutual prosperity and development.”

“I know some fear foreign investors will disrupt local customs. Please don’t worry. I respect every local tradition and work ethic. I am no destroyer; I am a builder.”

After a few seconds, warm applause filled the hall. People exchanged looks, clearly understanding the deeper message in Lynch’s words.

He wouldn’t impose welfare or human rights agendas. He wouldn’t undermine the ruling class or their interests, yet he’d invest here. That made him acceptable.

The governor applauded too. “Excellent idea. It reminds me of Nagaryll’s future. We need people like you. Your words are inspiring.”

“Shared wealth, shared development—very enlightening!”

He glanced at his expensive watch, apologizing, “Sorry, I have other commitments and must leave. When we have time, let’s talk more—I’m very interested in your ideas.”

“Definitely!” Lynch shook his hand again. The governor waved farewell and exited.

He had no urgent matters—just that staying would overshadow the mayor Mishehaye, who hosted the event.

After the governor left, the atmosphere grew livelier. Many, including Mishehaye, gathered around Lynch, discussing his upcoming plans.

“Mr. Lynch, when do you plan to build the factory, where will it be located, and what type of products will it primarily produce?” Mishehaye asked first.

Lynch tapped the sturdy wooden tools beside him. “I think these woods are good. How are they distributed in the wild?”

“Forestry extraction?” Mishehaye blurted the modern term, frowning slightly—it wasn’t what he had expected.

He had hoped Lynch would invest in a real factory, preferably heavy industry, where production lines cost hundreds of millions of Valier and are hard to acquire even with money.

But since Lynch mentioned logging, Mishehaye relaxed his brow after a moment of thought and said, “There isn’t much, and cutting this red wood requires approval from the temple…”