Chapter 806: A Toast to Friendship

“Look who’s here!”

Before Lynch could even approach the social gathering, the President, who had been chatting with others, immediately turned toward Lynch at the butler’s whisper and called out softly.

This was, in fact, a way of introducing Lynch to everyone. Not everyone there knew him personally.

Some might find it strange—how could anyone not recognize someone as famous as Lynch? But actually, that’s perfectly normal. People knew the name “Lynch,” but not his face. In an era where information wasn’t as widely or vividly disseminated, it was common to know of someone without recognizing what they looked like.

If the President hadn’t called Lynch’s name aloud like that, some people might have just watched quietly from the side during the event and never interacted with him.

As one of the President’s sponsors, the President hoped everyone present could become friends. Only then could he maintain their support over time.

Lynch stepped forward and shook hands with him, but the President didn’t let go right away—he held Lynch’s hand firmly.

“You arrived a bit earlier than I expected. No date today?” he joked lightly, drawing some chuckles from the crowd.

Talking about one’s partner or family in front of others is usually a sign of intimacy. By mentioning Lynch’s dating life in public, the President wasn’t just expressing their closeness—he was also helping to keep the atmosphere relaxed and sociable.

A pleasant mood is crucial for a party, and today’s gathering was the sort that could easily slip into being dull.

At that moment, someone stepped up and said, “I vaguely remember it was two or three years ago when Mr. Lynch attended the President’s celebration…”

The reference to years past highlighted that the friendship between Lynch and the President wasn’t born out of temporary interests—it had history.

After all, if they’d known each other for years, it was perfectly natural for their relationship to grow closer now.

At every party, there are people like this—important in their role, but never stealing the spotlight from the host.

Following this man’s cue, the President finally released Lynch’s hand. “You can chat with the others first. We still have a little while before the party officially starts.”

He raised his wrist to glance at his watch. “In about half an hour. This party isn’t formal—just some grilling, fishing, sports… a way to unwind from our hectic lives!”

With a friendly pat on Lynch’s arm, the President walked off smiling.

As soon as he left, someone approached Lynch. “Mr. Lynch, we’ve met before.”

It was the same man who had just been chiming in with jokes earlier. Lynch returned his smile warmly and shook hands.

“Was it at that celebration a few years back?” Lynch asked, repeating the man’s earlier words. This kind of reciprocal response wasn’t annoying—both sides were clearly friendly, and they laughed together.

“You might not remember me, Mr. Lynch, but I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“The Federation’s young leader, the youngest billionaire, a key board member of the Nagaryll Joint Development Company…” The man, gesturing as if holding something up with both hands, grinned. “If I could snag just one of those titles, I’d wake up laughing in my sleep!”

He gave his arm a dramatic shake. “I’m Dave. Just call me Dave.”

Lynch repeated his name, and they finally let go of each other’s hands.

Dave made a gesture, inviting Lynch to walk with him to a quieter part of the garden.

The garden was huge—people only occupied a small corner. A few steps away, and they were out of earshot of others.

“I’ve heard about what you did in Nagaryll and Amellia. I’ve also looked into your idea of financial warfare. Honestly, it’s pretty astonishing!”

Dave had a way of speaking that made it hard to dislike him. Every successful person has their own unique path. Just because someone else’s method seems unorthodox doesn’t mean it’s undeserved.

Success doesn’t come from cheating—it comes from effectiveness.

Lynch nodded. “I didn’t expect you to pay such close attention.”

He hadn’t known this man five minutes ago; his words were just a polite way to keep the conversation going.

But Dave nodded earnestly. “We’ve always been observers. There were voices in society saying we should get more involved, but back then…”

He shook his head, not elaborating further. Everyone knew what kind of era that was—one dominated by escapism.

“If you had proposed those ideas earlier, maybe we could have participated in World War I in a different way—shaping the world through financial power. That was the golden age of the Federation’s economy.”

“Of course, things aren’t bad now either. We didn’t gain anything, but we didn’t lose much, either.”

“Mr. Lynch, if there were to be a second world war, what do you think it would be fought over?”

“Land?”

“Resources?”

“Population?”

“Politics?”

“Or wealth?”

Lynch didn’t answer. Instead, he asked, “Do you think there will be a second world war?”

Dave nodded seriously. “Isn’t it inevitable?”

“The countries that fought in the first one didn’t really know how to fight such a large-scale war. In the past, wars were either internal or between neighboring states.”

“People weren’t used to global conflicts that split the entire world into two opposing camps, so no one really got much out of it this time.”

“A few treaties were signed—mostly meaningless. No one truly gained anything.”

“Even with broken bones, people forget pain once they heal. Let alone now, when no one really got hurt. War will break out again, for sure.”

Lynch agreed. “If it does, it will definitely be about interests…”

He didn’t go into detail—didn’t specify whose interests.

But it was obvious: it would be for the interests of domestic citizens, and more importantly, for the interests of capitalists.

Since the end of the joint military exercises in the latter half of the year, the entire world had entered a strange loop. Every country was constantly announcing new military upgrade plans.

Even within the Federation, defense companies were entering their most prosperous era in history.

Tens of billions in military spending poured in annually. Military corporations were buying land, building labs and factories, all because the government was handing out too much—but they still wanted more.

This arms race would continue until the next world war. To justify larger budgets, these companies would inevitably become one of the main driving forces behind the next conflict.

There were other capitalists too—like the Nagaryll Joint Development Company. If the rulers of Nagaryll ever said no to the Federals, the locals could achieve freedom and rights with the help of the Federals by tomorrow.

Wars have never been sparked by things like morality. It’s always about interests.

Lynch and Dave chatted for quite a while, their conversation shifting from military warfare to tactics like dumping products to undermine the opponent’s productivity. Dave was a truly interesting fellow.

They exchanged business cards and agreed to meet again sometime to continue their discussion.

They had talked long enough. No one at the party could monopolize another guest for too long—not even the President himself. So, after seven or eight minutes, the two returned to the crowd.

The President was still chatting with newly arrived guests. Not far off, the chefs were preparing dinner—various cuts of meat arranged on massive grills. Some guests were fishing by the lakeside, while others played golf.

There were no blinding lights, no dim, sultry atmosphere, none of that closed-in air thick with body odor and hormones. It was so fresh, it almost didn’t feel like a party.

And yet, it was a party—a high-end one.

There weren’t many women present today, mostly men. Once the final guest arrived, the chefs were just about finished preparing dinner.

They cooked the meat until it was nearly done, leaving just enough so that guests could participate in the final steps of the cooking.

At this time, it hadn’t yet become popular among Federals to eat rare or even raw beef that could be consumed with little to no further preparation.

“We conducted a support poll before the ballots are even counted—across seventeen states in the Federation, my approval rating is now over 77%…”

As the President spoke, he immediately drew everyone’s attention, and the crowd began to applaud.

A 77% approval rating—his election was basically in the bag.

His face lit up with an uncontrollable, sincere smile. Victory was all but certain.

“None of this would’ve been possible without your support. If you hadn’t selflessly helped me, I might never have made it this far.”

“After… [the former President] left office, I was under tremendous pressure. He left a mess behind, and I didn’t want to take on responsibilities that weren’t mine to begin with.”

“But the people—and your support—gave me strength. You carried me to where I am today…”

The President suddenly pointed at someone in the crowd. “Hey, put that checkbook down—I’m not here to ask for donations this time. I just want to sit down with everyone and relax a bit. After all, very soon, each of us will be facing new responsibilities and new situations!”

“I may not be a great president. There are many things I still don’t fully understand—that’s why I need you all by my side.”

“That’s true now, it’ll be true next month, it’ll still be true four years from now, and forever after!”

“A toast—to our everlasting friendship!”