Chapter 805: Overwhelming Luck

Early the next morning, the doorbell rang.

The postal worker stood outside the yard with a cart, accompanied by community staff.

“What’s all this?” Lynch, having finished his morning exercise early, grabbed the top box and glanced at it.

“For your loved one…”

It had Lynch’s name and the sender’s—Penny.

Suddenly, Lynch remembered: although Federation people don’t have the tradition of New Year visits, they do exchange gifts to express affection.

Those from farther away send their gifts early; those nearby, like in his city, send them on the last day of the previous year to ensure delivery by January 1st.

Of course, personally delivering gifts is good, but limits how many people can be visited. Most rely on the post office and couriers.

Penny was still in Eminence and could have delivered her gift herself but chose to send it via courier.

Besides Penny’s gifts, there were also presents from Katherine, Vera, and many individuals or companies Lynch worked with.

Being a big shot could be interesting: regardless of work, receiving all these gifts during holidays was uplifting.

After the couriers brought everything inside, Lynch casually opened some gifts from the girls—mostly small pastries and cookies.

Not expensive, but valuable in their own way, as handmade always carries special meaning.

During the unwrapping, Lynch noticed a pattern: less wealthy people gave heartfelt, often handmade gifts.

For example, Vera’s child sent a painting depicting the mother, child, and Lynch standing on grass.

It might seem worthless, yet it was priceless—money couldn’t buy its value.

Those financially free sent delicate items like tie clips, cufflinks, belts, and wallets.

By nine o’clock, the family was up. After a hearty breakfast, Serra announced she was leaving.

She didn’t want to see Nail wandering around with two girls, and she and Corman had plans.

“We’re heading south for the winter. We’ll return to Sabin City at the end of the month or next month, depending on when the weather warms up,” Serra said, dressed impeccably, her connections with wealthy women growing stronger.

Lynch’s rising influence also played a part. He even heard a store invited Serra to its opening ceremony and paid her for attending.

Serra wasn’t going alone; she took her friends with her.

Life was funny—three years ago, Serra wouldn’t have considered wintering in a warm southern place; now it was a trivial matter.

Lynch nodded, acknowledging the news, then looked at Nail.

“Any plans today?” Nail asked first.

The Federation observes January 1st as a holiday. Nail planned to take the two girls out but wanted to consider Lynch’s wishes.

As a parent, Nail wasn’t as casual about Lynch as Serra was.

Lynch thought for a moment. “I’m attending a New Year’s party at the president’s house this afternoon.”

Corman, who had been reading a newspaper nearby, looked up at Lynch. Only by experiencing the life of a big shot could one appreciate how different it was.

The president inviting Lynch to a party—a scenario only found in novels or films—was happening right before him. The shock was indescribable.

Corman wanted to go too, but Serra shot him a glance, and he lowered his head again.

Nail relaxed. “I won’t bother you then. I’ll just walk around. Who knows when I’ll be back next time.”

After the conversation, everyone left the table. Lynch held Serra’s hand and walked her to the community gate; her boat ticket was for the afternoon.

“If you need anything, call me anytime,” Lynch reminded her.

“I will,” Serra replied without hesitation.

Lynch hugged her once, then watched Corman busily help her board. Suddenly, it all felt a bit ridiculous.

What felt funny might seem disrespectful: Lynch was thinking about Serra and Corman’s relationship—who was really playing whom?

After a while, Nail left with the two girls. The house was left with Lynch, several maids, and his temporary housekeeper.

Lynch wanted to visit Katherine but reconsidered.

She had attended a very important event the previous night, which Lynch had even seen on TV.

The Federation’s people might not pay much attention to December 31st at night, but for the church, it was very significant.

Ms. Tracy stayed in Eminence for many reasons, the most important being to attend the New Year’s ceremony at Eminence’s Holy Cathedral.

They gathered around the Archbishop for prayers, religious rituals, and singing, entering the new year under God’s watch.

The Federation has three Holy Cathedrals; Holy isn’t just a name but a rank, indicating they are among the highest-status churches.

The Archbishop of the Empire’s central parish and key religious figures gather there every December 31st, with the ceremony starting at 8 PM and lasting until the New Year arrives.

With so many believers, not everyone can attend in person; many participate via live broadcast—which is widely accepted.

After all, God is sacred and omnipotent. Attending in person or watching at home means the same to Him.

Last night, around twenty million people watched the Eminence Holy Cathedral’s New Year ceremony live.

Ms. Tracy’s uncle is one of the central patriarchs, a highly respected figure and a main host of the event.

As the Archbishop’s niece, Ms. Tracy naturally stood at the front. Katherine, acting as the link between Ms. Tracy and Lynch, stood by her side.

Over twenty million people watched her for four to five hours straight. The influence this brought was unprecedented, and such an opportunity was extremely rare.

The ceremony lasted until midnight, so Katherine was probably still resting. Visiting her now would disturb her rest; she had work tomorrow.

This public appearance would greatly benefit her future political career. Politics and religion were always closely linked.

After some thought, Lynch decided to go out for a walk, casually browse around, and pick up a suitable gift for the evening’s party.

January 1st in Eminence was far from leisurely like in other places. People remained busy.

Maybe work paused during holidays, but money didn’t.

As long as money kept flowing, there would always be those chasing money and those being chased by it.

Lynch wandered around, had a simple roasted flatbread for lunch, and in the afternoon, arrived at the president’s house at the agreed time.

It was his house—not where he lived.

The president had a large, secluded house on the outskirts of Eminence. Before becoming president, he lived there daily. After taking office, he had to reside in the presidential palace.

This gathering obviously wasn’t held at the palace. If it were, the media might run a big story called Live: President’s Party. Instead, it took place at his personal home.

After verifying Lynch’s identity, his car was allowed in. Austin stayed inside, while Lynch followed the butler to the garden behind the house.

Calling it a garden was an understatement. Besides vast gardens and lawns, there was a small golf course and a huge artificial lake.

Reportedly, soon after the president put down a down payment on the house, the developer of this community ran into problems.

They had just completed community facilities—including several small golf courses and the artificial lake—when they had to stop selling homes.

Apparently, the actual construction didn’t match the planned project and involved financial issues.

The project was indefinitely suspended. The homes already sold couldn’t be reclaimed by the Federation government according to law, so everything stalled.

The developer got involved in a series of lawsuits that remain unresolved, keeping the project frozen.

The president had repeatedly offered to fulfill his obligation by paying the remaining balance to the developer, but since the developer’s banks were frozen, he couldn’t complete the payment.

Only after all lawsuits end can he continue paying.

The president lived there without much expense and enjoyed full services—which the developer was obligated to provide for the sold houses.

Few were as lucky as the president—only a handful, each living far apart, unlikely to meet unless one sought the other out.

They might wave from afar while fishing on the lake, but mostly avoided meeting.

Some say this was a transfer of interests—capitalists secretly seizing large land areas to create this paradise for a few.

But such claims lacked evidence and went nowhere. All that could be said was that the president was incredibly lucky.

By the way, before running for president, he was a senator in Congress.

Of course, his position had nothing to do with whether he could buy this house—it was purely luck.

That was all.

After all, the Federation was a fair and just country where everyone obeyed and respected the law.