Chapter 75: The Era Is a Vehicle, Wealth Is the Power

That morning, Richard sat anxiously in an office still faintly smelling of fresh paint.

The spotless, bright windows let in unfiltered sunlight, filling the room with light.

Not long ago, when news of Lynch and Michael broke, both the FBI and the IRS came knocking on Richard’s door.

As one of Lynch’s key henchmen, Richard was expected to play an important role in Lynch and Fox’s partnership. But both agencies were wrong—Richard was barely even an outsider, a pitiful nobody.

After being subjected to investigations by these powerful agencies, he was released on bail. Lynch later proved his innocence, but Richard’s bail money remained unresolved.

If you think that near-traumatic ordeal made Richard give up on working with Lynch, you’d be wrong.

The lure of huge profits had already emboldened Richard to trample on the law. With enough money at stake, there was nothing he wouldn’t dare to try.

He even tried looking for a new job at the employment center, but seeing the minimum hours and low wages, he lost all desire to try.

Like a rotting piece of wood, buried in a job barely paying enough to survive—this was not work, but self-murder.

Just as he was about to consider taking desperate risks, Lynch called him, and suddenly light returned to his world.

The next morning, Richard arrived at Lynch’s warehouse half an hour early. Seeing Lynch dressed in finer clothes, Richard humbly expressed his confidence in Lynch’s return and his own courage to keep working with him.

Once accustomed to fast money, no one wants to stoop low again. This is why many criminals find it hard to leave crime behind—they’re used to destruction, violence, and quick cash. How could they settle for honest work?

“Seeing you is like seeing the sun, driving away the darkness and clouds, boss!” Richard was talkative and sharp-witted—that’s why Lynch chose him.

More importantly, Richard had the courage to show up instead of hanging up on Lynch’s call with an apology like some others.

Lynch patted him on the shoulder. “Work hard. We have a bright future ahead. More people will arrive soon—you’ll be half a teacher to them, helping me train them for a while.”

Richard was very humble, slightly bowing his head as Lynch spoke, nodding occasionally to show agreement. Lynch was pleased.

“Can you tell me in advance what we’ll be doing? So I can prepare,” Richard asked, heart pounding with anticipation and fear of disappointment.

Lynch saw through his greed instantly and answered straightforwardly: “It’s a new job with no base salary, but your commissions will increase. If you have the ability, you can earn far more than before.”

Richard became very enthusiastic about money, beating his chest and promising to do his best.

By 10:30 a.m., most of Lynch’s new hires had arrived.

Among them were a group of teenagers, the oldest around thirteen or fourteen, the youngest about twelve or thirteen. These were the kids left behind by the newspaper office.

With Lynch’s funding, they no longer feared being left penniless or taken back by guardians who would push them into new exploitative situations. They treasured this chance—no one else offered them decent work or pay.

The kids wore clean secondhand clothes bought from shady street stalls scattered around Sabin City. Most stall owners were unsavory characters.

These clothes were often stolen from across the city and sold cheaply here.

At first, there were only two or three small stalls; now there were many, including furniture.

Last year, Sabin City Police warned that break-ins were rising—not just theft of money but furniture and appliances as well.

They urged residents to lock doors carefully before leaving home.

Richard stood proudly in the center, the most independent of the group. On his other side were about twenty young people Lynch had hired through the employment center.

Lynch checked his watch and signaled a kid to close the door, then began explaining their future work.

“I know some of you may be unsure about what we’ll be doing,” he said, catching the attention of the new hires, making them nervous.

“It’s simple. You’ll be selling. I have a lot of products here.” He called a few kids to distribute handbooks.

The handbook was more like a photo album, with four color photos on the first page, descriptions, and their prices in the market.

These prices were collected by the kids during their recent errands—their contribution was significant.

Richard studied it carefully, confused but respectful, pretending he understood.

“I want you to go door-to-door, tell people why you’re here, show them the handbook, and explain how good these products are.”

“I know some of you will think this is hard, but trust me, it’s easier than you think.”

“All products have a price floor of 40% of the original price. We split anything above that 50-50.”

Everyone gasped. Those considering quitting looked surprised. No one in Sabin City, the state, or even the whole country offered such high commissions.

Even the skeptics thought: why not try?

After a pause, Lynch added, “If you think this job is too easy, I have another for you.”

“Every Saturday afternoon, I hold a secondhand goods auction here. Lots of products get auctioned. I’ll give each of you 100 seats—your job is to fill them.”

“You get 5% commission on all sales made by people you bring. If your people trade, you earn.”

“I have millions worth of goods waiting for buyers, and the inventory will grow. Don’t worry about running out.”

“I guarantee that every month at least three people here will earn over ten thousand Sol. If not, I’ll pay the difference out of my own pocket.”

“If the top three sellers don’t make over ten thousand monthly, I’ll cover it—for everyone.”

Even Richard was breathless.

They didn’t have to be the best, just better than most. In an era where average monthly wages were two or three hundred, the promise of making over ten thousand was irresistible.