Chapter 92: Feel the Passion
Profit is enticing; legal windfalls are even more so.
A single transaction can yield thousands in profit. At first, some may hold firm and refuse to join, but when everyone starts chasing profit crazily, some stances begin to waver.
Watching others feast on gains is no pleasure. People enter a new restaurant usually for one of two reasons: the irresistible aroma inside, or the tempting food shown in the advertisements on the window.
Profit works the same way. Seeing others join this wealth feast while you stand aside feels painful because all it takes is reaching out to do the same. People will convince themselves.
The rising prices heated the atmosphere, and the apartment finally sold for 27,750 Sol—2,000 more than Lynch expected. He thought 25,000 would be the limit.
After all, the audience for this secondhand goods auction isn’t the middle class who can easily spare money; 99% are poor, some with savings under 2,000 Sol. Yet they surprised Lynch.
More surprising was Wood. His face flushed, he left his spot and approached Richard. They whispered for a while. Richard punched him lightly, then put an arm around his neck and ruffled his hair hard.
Wood, a promising young man, grinned widely. He seemed very close with Richard.
The profit was 6,720 Sol. Lynch had promised to split it with Wood. In other words, Wood just sat there and shouted into the microphone a few times, earning 3,360 Sol—plus previous bonuses, his daily income already exceeded six months of his undercover salary.
This was only one auction out of four each month. Lynch didn’t expect to get this lucky every time but believed even the worst would yield some profit.
Richard’s words were true. Lynch only wanted to share his joy—and show off a bit.
Finally, he looked up and saw Lynch. His excitement cooled; he realized he wasn’t a salesman but undercover.
His mood settled. He bowed slightly to Lynch, who smiled encouragingly back.
During this time, Ferrell was chatting with Lynch. When he heard Lynch promised to split profits on products beyond the breakeven point with the salesmen, he couldn’t believe it.
“That young man looks ecstatic. Can you tell me how much he made on that deal?” Ferrell, curious about Wood’s earnings, asked.
Lynch glanced at him and smiled, “Over three thousand Sol.”
“Wow…” Ferrell gasped. “Isn’t that too much? I’d think a few hundred would be enough to earn his gratitude. Why so much?”
This wasn’t just politeness. Ferrell wanted to understand Lynch to build a long-term partnership.
Lynch saw the chance to deepen trust. “I once met someone who told me: when you try to keep all benefits to yourself, even your brothers will leave.”
He turned slowly to Ferrell. Their eyes met steadily. Lynch’s gaze was calm and firm as rock.
“But if you share your success, everyone will treat you like their true brother.”
“When wealth gathers in your hands, others may leave, unsatisfied. But if you share it equally, they’ll unleash unprecedented energy.”
“We aren’t boss and subordinate—we are partners.”
If Wood heard this, he’d be amazed again. Richard wasn’t bragging. Lynch had more to say.
This was a complex game—once inside, it was hard to leave. They kept creating wealth miracles; ordinary life lost its appeal. Look at Richard—he’d rather sleep at home than find a regular job. These people lost passion once away from Lynch. Only here, under Lynch’s shade, could their lives bloom.
And Lynch had more tricks and strategies waiting.
Lynch looked away briefly and then said pointedly, “From another perspective, you could say I take the wealth they earn. It’s relative.”
“I’m a generous man, Mr. Consultant. You’ll understand me in time.”
A single house and thousands in theoretical profit stirred the crowd. Next came secondhand cars and large items.
Prices weren’t cheap. One used washing machine, priced at 3,999 Sol retail, sold for 2,050.
Lynch had brought it back from Mr. Fox’s warehouse, never expecting it to fetch so much.
The buyer wasn’t foolish. In lower-middle neighborhoods, laundromats are essential. Before, 25 cents could wash all clothes; now, laundromats charge by weight, and 25 cents barely covers a few items.
If the buyer commercializes it, charging 50 cents per full wash, neighbors would gladly be customers.
Richard personally closed this deal. His unique talent and keen instincts made Lynch admire him more.
In the second auction phase, items sold at about 50–70% of retail. This price wasn’t quite reasonable, but auction prices rarely are.
With competition and a charged atmosphere, people reveal sides even to themselves.
After a ten-minute break, the third auction phase began. The host stayed energetic, introducing it.
If a normal auction starts low and rises until the highest bid wins, this phase was reversed.
Each item started at retail price but was repeatedly lowered until someone raised their hand.
It was still a race—no bidding, just fast, precise decisions. Hesitate and the chance is lost.
“The first item this phase is a set of ivory silverware. Let’s have our staff display it…” Soon everyone saw the items, including enlarged posters visible even from the back rows.
“This set retails at 3,899 Sol. When friends and family visit, bringing out this set will surely spark envy…”
After hyping the set as a symbol of ultimate success, the host began the unusual auction calls.
“3,899, anyone?”
“3,600, dropping 300—anyone?”
“Good, I see you all understand. 3,400…”
“3,150!”
“2,980…” As the price dropped lower, the previously quiet crowd grew restless. An item worth nearly four thousand had been called down to two thousand two hundred. Though still somewhat high, it made some people finally understand.
Sometimes, people think simply: if no one raises a hand, the item ends up worth just one Sol.
But if it were that simple, Lynch wouldn’t have placed this reverse auction in the third phase.
When the host called out nineteen hundred eighty Sol, someone suddenly raised a hand, followed by more, but it was too late.
“Congratulations to this gentleman! A brand-new ivory silverware set worth 3,899 just sold for 1,980!”