Chapter 38: “I” Is a Way of Thinking Based on an Independent Personality

“You can have your people try to get a loan from the bank, study their process, then copy their loan documents and add some extra clauses.”

He glanced at Mr. Fox beside him. “For example, even if the collateral is forfeited after a certain period, the full principal and interest must still be repaid. That way, you can publicly lower the interest rate.”

This method is a variation of the bank’s usual practice. If a borrower can’t repay on time, the bank auctions the collateral to cover the unpaid loan.

The auction proceeds always cover only the portion the borrower couldn’t repay, which seems reasonable but isn’t.

From the start, the bank undervalues the collateral and charges high interest. Most borrowers can’t repay quickly.

If they could raise the money in a month or two, they wouldn’t need the loan. Since they can’t, they can’t repay, allowing the bank to claim the collateral.

If repayment is made quickly, the bank profits from the interest without loss.

Though a single loan’s interest might seem small, across all loans it adds up to millions or billions.

Lynch’s suggestion adds a clause to continue pursuing unpaid principal and interest after collateral forfeiture.

Even banks don’t just stop there; they have many ways to squeeze borrowers dry.

Banks may not have the negative reputation of financial firms like Mr. Fox’s, but they’re no saints. Laws about illegal funds are based on the highest bank standards—they’re both player and referee.

Mr. Fox had mentioned some don’t want their business legalized—those connected to banks and major financial groups, politicians who benefit from the status quo.

Banks and conglomerates support their families and inner circles, so naturally they protect their interests.

Lynch’s idea isn’t complicated: if you can’t beat them, join them.

But to avoid risks, they add legal language to keep matters ambiguous, allowing flexible action.

After some thought, Mr. Fox hesitated but said, “I’ll try it. Thank you very much for the advice.”

Lynch waved it off with a smile. “Your problem’s solved, but I have a favor to ask…”

After a meal at Mr. Fox’s farm, Lynch left with some local gifts—horn ornaments that, aside from some gold and minor gems, weren’t very valuable.

Meanwhile, Michael finally met his son, young Michael, at the Sabin City jail after a morning application.

People often think criminal cases take many hearings, but if the suspect admits guilt, the process speeds up.

Though sentencing wasn’t final, young Michael had begun serving time early—a kind of leniency.

In the visitation room, father and son sat across a table. After a nod from the guard, Michael left his post.

Rules exist; some follow them, others break them—usually the privileged or rulemakers. The powerless obey.

It’s ironic, but not funny.

More ironic: those who break rules accuse those who follow them of rule-breaking, constantly adding rules to strengthen their power.

“Make sure to appeal during your trial. Don’t plead guilty!” Michael glanced at the closed door. “I’ve hired a lawyer who’ll fight to clear your name. Don’t worry.”

Young Michael was calm—no anger or excitement, just serenity. He seemed transformed.

His gaze toward Michael lacked past reverence, restlessness, rebellion, or submissive grit.

In an instant, he seemed much older. Shaking his head surprised Michael, who then felt a surge of anger.

He suddenly stood, leaning forward to grab young Michael’s collar, but his move was too rough and drew the guard’s attention.

The guard cleared his throat warningly. Michael froze, held back his rage, and sat down.

“Why?” he asked sharply.

Young Michael replied in a tone Michael disliked, “One of us had to go in. You always say I can’t bring you honor. Look, now I’m protecting you!”

Growing impatient, he added, “I don’t want to hear your excuses. Whether you did it or not, the problem’s here. I admit my fault and am trying to make up for it. And…”

He hesitated, then said, “Actually, pleading guilty is better for you, me, Mom, and us all. Stop worrying about this and focus on reducing my sentence. I heard it might be nine to twelve months.”

After speaking, young Michael stood, patted the table. The guard entered, glanced at both, then took young Michael away.

Michael understood his son’s reasoning but thought it foolish—it was framing and betrayal.

If they could find the real culprit, it’d end without disgrace on either father or son, but Michael couldn’t explain that now.

He just wanted to delay until the truth came out, but the culprit thought this was protecting Michael.

An unreasonable, utterly foolish kid.

At about seven in the evening, Lynch returned to the tavern’s second floor after dinner. He hadn’t had time to check out the house he was considering, so he stayed here temporarily.

The tavern on the busy roadside ensured any disturbance would attract attention nearby, which also ensured his safety.

At the door, just as he pulled out his keys, he paused—there were clear signs of forced entry on the lock.

He gently pushed the door open with a creak.

Inside, a flickering ember revealed a faint face.

The room was messy, obviously rifled through. Lynch switched on a dim light, revealing Michael leaning against the partition wall watching him.

Lynch smiled, stepped inside, looked at the chaos, and sighed.

“You probably don’t do chores at home, or you’d know how much effort cleaning this mess takes, how draining and frustrating it is.”

He bent down, picked up a few books, and placed them on a nearby wardrobe. As he bent again, Michael suddenly rushed forward and shoved him against the wall.

“You framed my son, Lynch…”

Michael’s aggression didn’t faze Lynch. Calm as the day in the alley, he looked up at Michael close before him.

“Apologize and get out. This ends here. Otherwise, you bear all consequences—just like I warned you before.”

Lynch stood firm, ready to fight.

Bullying is addictive; the feeling of controlling others makes people want to try it again and again. For example… the dealer. Although Lynch didn’t know the exact grudge between the dealer and Michael, it was probably something like that.

If anyone had to be destroyed because of this, Lynch believed it wouldn’t be him.