Chapter 84: The Reporter and the Mayor’s Aide

Wait and see — this was Lynch’s unspoken answer to Mr. Fox. He didn’t try to persuade him with words about the deal or profits.

People always refuse to believe the harshness of reality until it hits them hard.

By the way, reality isn’t a person.

Instead of sugarcoating things with words to hide his intentions and keep them guessing, Lynch let the silence speak.

There were only a few days left anyway.

On Friday morning around 10 a.m., Lynch hosted visiting reporters at a café outside the warehouse district.

The warehouse district wasn’t just filled with blue-collar workers; some employees had decent backgrounds. Warehouses can hold trash or worthless goods, but also valuable items.

This diversity shaped the workforce’s diversity, and having coffee and snacks to pass the time wasn’t a problem.

Lynch invited six local newspapers from Sabin City, including one that published photos of unfortunate girls—illegal in Sabin but legal to print with personal info under federal and publishing laws.

Besides local press, reporters from the state capital and other major cities also came. Lynch’s ambition was big — not just a secondhand auction company in Sabin but expansion statewide and beyond. The first auction’s publicity was crucial.

When people saw intriguing news in the papers, they’d want to attend locally, test if it was as good as advertised, and keep watching.

If the papers only criticized, interest would die; even if the auction was local, attendance would be low.

First impressions mattered—that’s why Lynch reached out to the media, hoping for positive coverage.

Maybe because Lynch reimbursed lodging and meals plus gave a $30 daily stipend, reporters liked him. Beyond that, he bought ad space at their newspapers, the real reason they came.

Lynch was seen as a major financial backer—a big spender—which shaped reporters’ first impressions.

This was a small personal interview. Later, they’d film scenes inside the warehouse before, during, and after the auction.

Photos would show stark contrasts, creating a strong visual impact. Even without this, readers would sense Lynch’s seriousness; he wasn’t playing around.

“Mr. Lynch, how do you define the secondhand auction you’re holding?” asked a female reporter from the capital’s top-selling paper.

Each region had such newspapers responsible for guiding public opinion, spreading positive energy, and supervising society.

Though the question seemed vague, it was key—she sought Lynch’s stance or possible political motives.

The reporter wore glasses and had a stern, serious expression. Once she spoke, others prepared to take notes.

Reporters often see themselves as social justice warriors weighing people fairly, but their biases show.

Based on their paper’s size and status, the order of questions reflected this, without the usual arrogance they claimed.

Lynch barely thought before answering with a bright smile.

“Activating idle markets, saving social resources, preventing unnecessary waste, and creating jobs—this is what I’m doing.”

Dealing with reporters was a breeze compared to interrogations he’d faced before; some questions that seemed harsh to others were like flowers to him.

He was surrounded by many reporters, speaking confidently without fear. His charm won them all! one reporter captioned a photo showing Lynch at the center, with people attentively recording his words, his confident, radiant face almost glowing.

Even in lesser-known newspapers, readers felt Lynch’s unique aura.

That photo became a career highlight for the reporter—sometimes life is strange; being a witness can make you famous.

He probably didn’t yet realize what the photo would come to represent.

After shooting, the reporter returned to his seat to record the interview.

Lynch’s confidence, humor, occasional sharpness, and self-deprecation made him popular. Few interviews caused genuine laughter, but this one did—even the stern female reporter laughed multiple times.

After the interview ended smoothly, Lynch surprised them with gifts.

In another world, these are called honorariums, but in the simple-minded Baylor Federation era, journalists weren’t used to such customs and were a bit embarrassed.

“Just some local specialties and travel expenses—please don’t refuse!”

His warmth and sincerity won them over. They accepted the gifts, each feeling a mix of guilt and an indescribable emotion.

After returning, every reporter chose to revise their initial drafts.

Seeing them off, Lynch sighed—it was truly a good era.

In another world, insufficient honorariums had caused reporters to throw objects at conferences.

He liked this world.

That afternoon, Lynch was unexpectedly visited by a man named Ferrell, an aide to Sabin City’s mayor.

The man was in his early 30s, about 5′7″ tall—considered tall for the time.

His hair was thinning, with a severely receding hairline.

“Mr. Lynch, I noticed this…” He placed a flyer on Lynch’s desk and pushed it forward.

Lynch glanced at the flyer—his own printed promotional material—and asked, “And?”

Ferrell smiled confidently, but unlike Lynch’s self-assurance, his was condescending, laced with disdain—not genuine confidence but power backed by authority.

“I see you plan to hold a secondhand auction in the warehouse district tomorrow afternoon.” He read aloud from the flyer.

Lynch nodded, “Yes.”

Ferrell leaned back, fingers intertwined, elbows on the chair arms, smirking. “You probably won’t be able to hold it as scheduled.”