Chapter 87: No Way, No Way!

Every city has certain special jobs that aren’t very profitable, and the city hall doesn’t want to handle them directly—like city cleaners, regional service companies, or public welfare organizations.

These used to be managed by the Social Services Bureau but were later outsourced to specialized companies for various reasons.

For example, public transportation in Sabin City is one such public service transferred from the Social Services Bureau.

Because these services—city cleaning, waste management, nursing homes—are hard to make a profit on, companies can’t rely on cleaning staff alone to generate big income. So, city hall provides financial subsidies and policy favors, like tax breaks, to encourage big companies to take on social responsibilities.

But is subsidy only for non-profit public service companies?

Not necessarily. Everyone knows how profitable city transport companies are. Whether a company qualifies for subsidies depends entirely on its political value and significance.

If needed, Sabin’s leaders might create some political momentum—hold hearings, get expert opinions, social feedback—and if it looks good publicly, subsidies get approved.

One red line: the public must not think the subsidy is unnecessary. The media always portrays the federal government as efficient and clean, never wasting taxpayers’ money.

Citizens may not care about much, but they know how to assert their taxpayer identity and make noise when needed.

But Lynch’s secondhand goods auction… it’s not a public welfare project, at best only loosely connected to social services.

That made Ferrell’s expression complicated. On one hand, Lynch was tough to deal with. On the other, Ferrell felt a bit foolish—he had been calling others idiots but now felt like the fool himself.

If Lynch got subsidies, the salary Lynch paid him might not even equal a tenth of the subsidy amount. Although that money wasn’t Ferrell’s, he still felt shortchanged.

He stayed silent, pretending ignorance, while Lynch raised the stakes.

“Consultant, you might not know, but by year-end, I’ll have opened Interstellar Trading Company branches throughout the state, with headquarters in Sabin City.”

“I’ll also build a new warehouse district and a dedicated transport company to activate the state’s secondhand goods economy.”

“By then, our secondhand goods business will cover the entire state and beyond. That influence should become a prominent political achievement for the mayor.”

“People will spend less to meet their demand for a high-quality life and greatly reduce social problems stemming from poverty-driven crimes.”

“Now there’s a legal way to make money without crime. If the federal and state governments find ways to revive the economy quickly, our state may recover faster and become the national focus.”

“Personally, I promise that by next year, my company will have over 500 employees—only more, never less…”

Lynch pulled out a checkbook, pen hovering over a check, then suddenly asked an unrelated question, “What’s the state’s individual donation limit?”

To prevent unethical deals between capitalists and politicians via donations, the federal government capped individual political donations yearly. This curbed blatant political patronage but complicated some issues and proved largely ineffective.

Most companies donate collectively to politicians, including small amounts from part-timers, often reaching the legal limit. Everyone understands why.

Later, the law was amended to require recording every donor’s name and amount, but couldn’t prevent benefit transfers—people eagerly donated and complained limits were too low.

Ferrell immediately realized something and shifted slightly, whispering, “The state limit is $150 cash…”

Lynch didn’t respond but wrote a number on a check, tore it out, and pushed it over.

The brand-new check was for $75,000. Ferrell’s breath caught as he looked from the check to Lynch, who put away his pen with his usual sunny smile.

“I believe since the mayor took office, our city has made great progress. I fully support his political agenda and governance philosophy…”

He paused, then asked, “Which party is the mayor from again?”

Ferrell almost covered his face, rubbing his brow, and forced out, “The Federal Progressive Party…”

“Yes! The Federal Progressive Party!” Lynch pointed at him. “A great party. I know and admire them. This is my donation to the mayor and the party. It’s not illegal, right?”

Ferrell smiled wryly, shaking his head. It wasn’t illegal if it didn’t exceed limits. “But you’ll need a donor list, sir. Those must be recorded with the funds.”

Lynch grabbed the phone book at the table’s corner and slammed it back down. He stared at Ferrell with a commanding look. “There are more than 500 names here.”

They exchanged a look. Ferrell sighed and nodded, understanding. This wasn’t his job anyway; their office had young staff to handle these dirty tasks, who knew how to copy 500 names to make donations look proper.

He pocketed the check. Lynch asked, “When will the subsidy come through?”

Ferrell thought a moment. “We need to study it. At least five hearings must pass. If approved, city hall will support you with funds or policy benefits, like tax exemptions.”

Lynch raised an eyebrow. “I thought tax exemptions were only for small companies.”

Compared to subsidies, tax exemptions offer more tangible benefits but aren’t absolute.

For a company making only a million a year, a $500,000 subsidy outweighs tax exemption benefits. Tax exemptions might save 30% in taxes, about $300,000, but a $500,000 subsidy lets you profit even after taxes.

For someone like Lynch, ambitious and determined, tax exemptions hold more value than subsidies. He was confident he could reach millions in net profit within two or three years.

He nodded, then casually asked, “Nobody will give me trouble, right?”

That question carried a warning tone. Ferrell shook his head, “Shouldn’t be.”

Lynch said, “Good,” stood up, and Ferrell followed. Lynch shook his hand with a smile.

“Please tell the mayor I admire him greatly and hope to have dinner sometime.”

Ferrell had no thoughts left, nodded repeatedly, and left quickly. He never wanted to see someone like Lynch again.

Watching Ferrell rush away, Lynch laughed quietly.

Is it really that easy to get my money?

No way!