Chapter 77: Naturally Drawing Attention — Who Else but Me?

Wood is such a common name that if you shouted it on the street, at least four or five men would turn to look.

The young undercover agent close to Lynch had this somewhat old-fashioned name—simple, blunt, with a hint of an earlier era.

Though old-fashioned, it’s far better than names like Dick or Pussy.

After lunch, Lynch and the newsboys left first. Before leaving, Lynch wrote a check to Richard, instructing him to help the others get settled.

Wood immediately slipped into character. “Richard, it seems like the boss might need our help with something?” His bright, slightly ingratiating smile made him seem approachable; he even flexed his muscles proudly.

Richard glanced at the check but disliked muscle-bound types. The factory workers, who often worked shirtless, all had plenty of muscle.

This wasn’t an era where muscle predicted one’s future potential. That was for farmers and laborers of old. Now, the true measure of a person’s value was brainpower and wealth, not stiff muscles.

Though Richard sometimes envied them.

“Focus on your own work; that’s far more important than meddling. What’s your name?” Richard pocketed the check. Lynch had given him money to arrange uniforms—two short-sleeve shirts with the company logo on the chest, two pairs of pants, 30 genuine leather briefcases, and 1,000 belts.

The belts were significant. Richard had stopped trying to figure out their purpose; to him, cheap belts didn’t sell well.

Not everything sells just because it’s cheap. Only essentials do. Belts don’t.

The unmotivated solve it with a string; the discerning won’t buy cheap belts. Richard didn’t understand Lynch’s plan—too complicated for his mind.

He was trying hard to follow Lynch’s example—learning diligently. He refused to be a lifelong subordinate; one day, he wanted to be a boss.

Richard looked at Wood, eager. Lynch had given him the second most trusted position, showing he was the most trusted in the small group besides Lynch himself.

This trust, combined with Richard’s sense of responsibility and mission, stirred something new and wonderful inside him: power.

“Wood, good job…” Richard patted Wood’s muscular arm—it felt like patting a stone, completely different from the slight bounce on his own arm. “You look sharp. Now, do me a favor…”

Shortly after, Wood landed a physically demanding job, while Richard talked with the rest about how he first met Lynch.

No matter how bright the future seemed, reality was undeniable. No matter how well Lynch boasted, some doubted him. After Richard openly stated his identity, he described his past cooperation with Lynch.

He preferred calling it cooperation, rather than employment—it sounded more equal.

“You can’t imagine how crazy that time was. I earned 200 to 300 a day. It was the best job I’d ever had.”

The newcomers gasped in awe. Richard proudly showed his new watch.

“See this? I bought this watch within a week, though I hadn’t planned on buying it. Now I have new goals.”

The watch cost 2,000—an entry-level luxury timepiece, the lowest tier in its series.

Because it was entry-level and relatively cheap, many people’s first luxury watch was this model. Over time, it became a classic widely sought by the masses.

An interesting social phenomenon arose: luxury brands popular among lower classes were not fashionable in true upper-class circles. Terms like classic and best-seller were just marketing tricks to feed middle and lower-class vanity.

Top-tier elites might mention a designer or artisan unknown to the public.

For lower classes, this classic status was meaningful. When Richard showed his wristwatch, no one could look away.

Given the average wage in Sabin City, a single young person would have to scrimp for two or three years to afford such a watch after daily expenses.

A good watch greatly boosts one’s image. Along with shoes, belts, ties, and tie clips, many judged a man by these accessories.

Previously, some only believed Richard’s words partially; now, they believed most of it.

Just then, Wood, carrying two boxes of food, asked bluntly, “If it really makes that much money, why don’t we keep doing the work you did before instead of this stuff we don’t understand?”

Richard glanced at him; the others watched. He shook his head.

“If you read the newspapers, you’d know.”

The two major agencies recently cracked down on underground finance companies in Sabin City, arresting money laundering suspects and shutting down emerging currency exchange businesses.

The warehouse fell silent.

After half a minute, Richard clapped and told the troublemaker to bring coffee. Then he continued explaining how to get hired smoothly.

That night, Wood returned to his apartment. As he reached to unlock the door, his pupils contracted.

Before leaving, he had slipped a hair into the keyhole so any forced entry would pull it out.

The hair was gone—someone had tampered with his lock.

Whether undercover in criminal groups or with someone like Lynch, they had to be fully prepared. Vigilance was their only survival guarantee.

At that moment, a familiar voice called from inside.

“Come in, it’s me…”

His superior opened the door and entered, rolling his eyes in annoyance.

“You scared me!”

His superior smiled, explaining he didn’t know when Wood returned and had to come in directly to avoid being noticed if lingering outside.

Quickly switching topics, he asked, “How’s it going? Seen Lynch?”

Wood nodded. “I saw Lynch and his business partner, Richard…”

“Richard?” His superior frowned. “Last I heard, Richard was just a low-level lackey. Are you sure he’s Lynch’s business partner?”

Wood shrugged, went to the kitchen for water, took a big gulp.

“All I can do is pass you the intel. Analyzing it isn’t my job.”

His superior paused, noted this, then pressed for more details about Wood’s day.

The conversation lasted over an hour. Both stared at each other with an indescribable feeling.

His superior frowned, asking uncertainly, “Are you sure… he said the top three incomes exceed ten thousand?”

“He said so. Whether it’s true, I don’t know. I’ll try.”

His superior decided quickly: “We’ll back you. This lets you get closer to Lynch, be trusted by him, and gather evidence of his crimes. Protect yourself.”