Chapter 346: Lynch the Bridge Builder

Lynch talked with the mayor for quite some time. It was clear the mayor had made a decision.

He had reached a point where a choice was necessary. With factional struggles within the Progressive Party and environmental reforms underway, in this turbulent era, one misstep could leave him overwhelmed and left behind by the times.

In two years, Sabin City would hold new elections. Though the mayor hadn’t commissioned any polls, he knew his approval ratings were low.

His performance during the general strike wasn’t terrible—many local leaders did worse—but it wasn’t impressive either. In reality, his results weren’t as good as he and his supporters had hoped.

The strike soon ended, but he made enemies, especially among those who lost their jobs.

While they resented their direct bosses or factory owners, they had no effective way to retaliate against them.

They couldn’t storm into homes with anything legally deemed a weapon, even shouting curses could bring bullets and death.

But they could take revenge on the mayor—simply by not voting for him in the election a year and a half later.

This silent act would be anonymous; no one could trace votes back to them. They wouldn’t worry about retaliation, just watch as the mayor was replaced.

The mayor knew his support was low and his options few: either arrange a discreet power transfer before stepping down—perhaps trading his position for a state legislator seat to waste his days in petty political battles—or try to regain public support, lead Sabin City out of trouble, and make a bold leap to become a national congressman.

With luck, he could climb higher or join key committees, continuing to serve the country.

Faced with a bleak future or a shining one, now was the time to take a gamble.

After leaving Mark’s villa, Lynch didn’t go home but went straight to his parents’ house.

His mother, Serra, was surprised and delighted by his visit. She seemed transformed.

Before, Serra was an ordinary housewife, timid and weary, spending her days between kitchen and living room, with little time for herself.

Timid, numb, simple—that was her true nature. But now, she was different.

She wore expensive designer clothes, styled her hair, and wore makeup that made her look years younger.

“You didn’t say you were coming back!” Serra took Lynch’s bag and handed it to a servant to hang in the closet.

She linked arms with Lynch as they entered the living room and sat on a fine sofa.

“Tell the cook to prepare dinner for one more person, using the best ingredients…” Serra said comfortably. Lynch watched her, feeling moved and amazed.

This woman had spent over thirty years learning to fear life, but only a few months to start enjoying it. That is the value, power, and charm of money.

“Should I call Nail to come back?” Serra asked warmly. “He should be at the construction site now.”

Some of Lynch’s construction projects were subcontracted to Nail’s company. They did what they could themselves and passed on work requiring qualifications.

In reality, Lynch held shares in the company through third-party firms—saving costs and funneling money to himself.

Though this seemed illegal, it wasn’t clearly defined by law.

Lynch’s company might slightly overpay another company he owned, with all legal procedures intact and shareholders consenting. It was shady, but no one would speak out until exposed.

Nail, Lynch’s father and the construction company manager, was legally separate despite their family ties.

Absurd but true.

With growing projects, Nail had adapted to his new role, busy between socializing and construction sites, enjoying himself.

Lynch glanced at his watch and shook his head. “No need to call. He should be back within an hour.”

Even as Serra’s son, Lynch’s opinion was respected.

Family ties aside, Lynch’s wealth also made this a practical matter.

They chatted while watching TV, expecting Nail home early. But from six till almost nine, he didn’t return.

Serra called him repeatedly but couldn’t reach him. In this era without mobile phones, if someone didn’t reach out, no one could find them.

Nail returned home smelling of alcohol. His gaze stiffened when he saw Lynch, his foggy awareness snapping back with a jolt and sudden nervousness.

“Come to the study. We need to talk…” Lynch stood and headed upstairs.

Nail’s new home had a study to give himself an air of refinement.

Outside, Nail glanced nervously back at Serra before following Lynch upstairs.

At the study door, Lynch waited. When Nail entered, Lynch closed the door and sat behind the desk—the place Nail should occupy.

“I don’t mean to pry into your private life, but that faint perfume tells me I waited for hours while you weren’t out working but fooling around with a woman. I’m very disappointed.”

As the door shut, Lynch caught a subtle feminine scent. As a man versed in many things, he could clearly tell female perfume from male.

No doubt, Nail wore a woman’s fragrance. In this male-dominated, intolerant society, no man would wear female perfume unless wanting to isolate himself.

Faced with Lynch’s accusation, Nail immediately apologized. “I didn’t know you’d come today…”

He didn’t deny or argue, confirming Lynch’s suspicion.Lynch looked at him. From the memories left in this body, the man had many flaws, including a strong sense of male superiority. He now appeared wronged, but in reality, his life was still controlled by Lynch.

Without Lynch, or if that construction company truly belonged to him, he might be a different person.

After a moment, Lynch shook his head. “I’m not interested in your private life. You can fool around with other women if you want, but you have to bear the consequences yourself.”

“But I must tell you this: you can fool around, but you cannot marry any of those women. I don’t want my money—while it’s still worth something—to be shared with others.”

“No marriage. No illegitimate children.”

According to federal law, if there is no will, illegitimate children have the right to claim inheritance. This is why countless lawsuits over illegitimate children and estates occur every year.

Nail’s current house, his savings, and his company shares would become a problem if one or more illegitimate children appeared.

After addressing this serious matter and pausing briefly, Lynch continued, “I’m sending you to Nagaryll.”

This shocked Nail into full alert. He looked at Lynch in disbelief. “I just got drunk and slipped once. I didn’t even sleep with that woman, and you want to exile me to Nagaryll?”

“This has nothing to do with whether you cheated. I’ll be working on road construction there, and that job is yours.”

Nail still found it hard to believe. “It sounds like a tyrant telling someone he dislikes, You’re exiled.”

“If you can accept it when I say it like that, then just take it that way.”

“I don’t care what you think. By July at the latest, you and your team must leave. We don’t have much time.”

Nail knew this was final and sighed, but held some hope. “How long am I exiled this time?”

Lynch shook his head. “I don’t know. It depends on progress. We need to take over one or two provinces—you can think of them like states—to build a highway network. Maybe even more. You probably won’t be back for three to five years.”

Nail wasn’t focused on the time. Frowning, he asked, “Are the people in Nagaryll really that rich? I saw some reports on TV—they’re poor. Where will they get the money for road construction?”

Lynch pulled out a pack of cigarettes, took one, placed it in his mouth, and lit it.

With a flicker of flame, he glanced at Nail across the desk. “I’m lending it to them…”