Chapter 321: It Only Takes Three Times to Go Bad — Don’t Oppose, Don’t Resist, Don’t Reject!

Nagaryll would no longer be as safe as before. As the world’s development accelerated, countries like Nagaryll could no longer be ignored.

Every nation was deeply dissatisfied with the outcome of this world war. They were building up strength for the next one. When that war broke out, all claims of civilization, morality, and etiquette would be shattered instantly.

No one would be spared for non-cooperation. When weapons spoke, no one could refuse the demands of steel battleships.

Nagaryll’s rulers had some realizations. The High Priest initially planned to send his youngest son to study abroad in Amellia and support him as a merchant there.

Amellia would be full of opportunities soon and was the most important overseas territory of the Gephra Empire, which valued it more than some domestic regions.

The High Priest was securing a fallback for himself or his children. Could the provincial governors have similar plans?

Certainly. But Lynch hadn’t interacted enough with them or gained enough status to learn such private matters easily.

Still, Lynch caught on to something from the High Priest’s plan to send his son abroad.

“What’s your plan?” Mr. Wadrick straightened up and asked thoughtfully. “If we go too far, even if the High Priest forgets he has a favored son, he won’t fall into our trap.”

“Rulers are far colder about family than you think,” Wadrick explained to prevent Lynch from misjudging.

Using the favored son as leverage to control the High Priest was worthless.

In this situation, the High Priest would rather lose the son than become someone else’s puppet. As long as his power remained, he could have more children.

Wadrick had some ideas but wanted to hear Lynch’s solution—would it impress or be cliché?

Lynch smoked calmly and shifted his posture, resting his wrists on the table edge. Seen from the side, Wadrick leaned back slightly—a defensive posture signaling a need for safety and to assert status.

Lynch leaned forward with more hand movements—an aggressive stance meant to pressure and force agreement.

Such body language is common in negotiations. The strong push their advantage to increase persuasion and intimidate, while the weaker maintain a polite, distant posture, like caged gentlemen eager to escape.

Feeling Lynch’s sharp energy, Wadrick moved the ashtray closer, warning, “Don’t flick ash everywhere…”

A small gesture and a simple sentence unexpectedly shifted the dynamic—he asserted who was really in control.

Lynch smiled, easing the tension. “Mr. Wadrick, are you familiar with the Gambler’s Algorithm?” He searched for the right term. “A mathematical model?”

Wadrick shook his head. “Sorry, I’m not interested in math, but I’m curious to hear.”

Lynch nodded slightly. “Some gamblers say that after losing one Sol, they bet two the next round. If they win, they recover the loss plus one Sol profit.”

Wadrick showed little reaction but nodded along.

Lynch continued, “If they lose again, they bet four Sol next, then eight, sixteen, thirty-two…”

“Hundreds, thousands, even tens or hundreds of thousands, or millions.”

“Just once,” Lynch raised a finger, “just once winning means recovering all previous losses plus the original target profit.”

Wadrick’s expression grew intense. This gambler’s algorithm clearly illustrated a common financial phenomenon.

Many companies facing a sudden downturn don’t withdraw immediately; they invest more hoping to recover, but the deeper they sink, the harder it is to quit.

Federal financial history has many such examples—large conglomerates losing more trying to save a little, dragged down by mounting sunk costs.

Wadrick was beginning to grasp Lynch’s point but still hesitated. Unconsciously, Lynch had taken control of the conversation, leading Wadrick’s thoughts.

“How do we ensure the High Priest always loses, and after one loss, keeps betting?”

Lynch leaned back, relaxed. He had planted his idea and could now change posture.

He smirked. “Because we’re not just players at the table—we’re also the dealer, the referee, even the rule makers.”

Wadrick pondered. Lynch’s idea surpassed his own: once the High Priest staked everything on the Federation, even if expelled, he couldn’t leave easily.

Bound to the Federation, he must submit or lose everything.

His dealings with the Federation would be the final straw, forcing obedience.

Wadrick nodded approvingly and asked again, “What will you do?”

“Start with that boy. Of course, that’ll require some help from you, Mr. Wadrick…”

After their secret meeting, Wadrick saw Lynch off at the manor gate—a rare honor even for members of Parliament. The butler was curious but dared not ask.

On the way back, Wadrick asked, “Do you know the Gambler’s Algorithm?”

The butler hesitated, shook his head. “I’ll find out, sir.”

“No, I already know…” Wadrick paused. “Also, I just arranged for Miss to attend an exhibition with Lynch in a few days. Assign our people to protect her. No private meetings allowed. Do you understand?”

The butler bowed his head. “I swear by my life that Miss will leave and return pure.”

Wadrick nodded, firm despite seeming strict. Better that than having the girl lose her virtue and become a laughingstock in high society.

In this circle, no one was as noble or glamorous as people imagined. Whether men or women, their inherent ugliness and baseness reeked like rotten eggs, almost palpable. Rumors could ruin his girl, and he would not allow that to happen.

What he had to do next was convince the board to approve his plan and also persuade some members of Parliament and the president’s aides. These international affairs had to be discussed with the highest ruling level of the Federation before execution, as they involved foreign relations.

At the same time, a young man was indulging in the Federation’s extravagance.

Girls with milky white skin dressed in simple clothes crawled around him. Rare wines from Nagaryll filled a bathtub. Cigarettes, alcohol, and lust—nothing was better than this.

The seventeen-year-old boy had only been here a few days but was already accustomed and fascinated by this life.

He had forgotten the poverty and backwardness of Nagaryll. Suddenly, he felt his father’s decision to send him here was incredibly wise. He loved this place and everything about it.