Blackstone Code

Many people, as they grew older, would find themselves nostalgic for their time in the military. The simplicity and straightforward nature of military life would often bring a kind of happiness that was hard to find elsewhere. There was less scheming and more sincerity, although there were, of course, exceptions.

In the simple, direct environment of the military, the first word that came to the sergeant's mind when he was about to speak to Lynch was "Any orders, sir?" However, he abruptly stopped himself, realizing he was no longer in the military and no longer a soldier. He had almost forgotten how to communicate in a civilian context, especially with his new boss.

Ferrall's father-in-law quickly recognized the sergeant's dilemma, something many soldiers had experienced. He briefly introduced the sergeant and, in an authoritative manner, instructed the sergeant to introduce himself.

In an instant, everyone, including the sergeant himself, could feel that surge of spirit return. He spoke loudly, reminiscent of a soldier introducing himself, but in reality, he was clarifying his identity while answering questions.

Quietly waiting for his self-introduction to finish, Lynch extended his hand and shook hands with the sergeant named Charles. He smiled and said, "Actually, you don't have to force yourself to change the habits you've already adapted to. If you prefer, you can still live and work in a military manner here. It's just that things are relatively more relaxed when you're working for me."

This greatly eased the anxiety of Charles and the other young men behind him, who were not accustomed to social interactions. Some even smiled.

This was a promising start. Ferrall's father-in-law was very pleased, and Ferrall himself let out a sigh of relief.

The old soldier then took over, saying, "I'll have the gun permits sent over in three days, but I must clarify one thing..." His face grew more serious. "If you allow them to maintain their military habits, you need to file a report. Do you understand?"

"This won't affect your work or their lives. It's just to ensure everything is under control. I'm sure you understand."

Employing a group of ex-soldiers with gun permits was fine, but allowing them to live in a quasi-military environment touched on national security issues. Lynch needed to report this to the Federal Security Commission, the Federal Military Administration, and the Ministry of Defense. Failing to do so could mean breaking the law.

Lynch nodded and left an address, the lakeside villa area. The lakeside villas he had acquired from Hart were now transitioning into his property. That area, far from the city center, was a good temporary arrangement for these young men. Later, he planned to move them to a new property he had recently acquired. As for these young people, their value would extend beyond just ensuring Lynch's safety.

Once international trade was permitted, it would likely lead to ruthless economic competition rather than harmonious trade relations. Trade often involved imbalances, and even close allies would engage in forms of economic exploitation. This could range from sophisticated forms that seemed palatable to outright aggressive practices, such as dumping goods at low costs to undermine local industries in less developed countries.

This economic strategy would not only generate profit but also hamper the development of a nation's industry, creating dependence on the Baylor Federation's products. The logic was simple: why invest immense resources to develop something locally when it could be bought more cheaply? This mindset would arise naturally as nations integrate into the global economy, driven by the fundamental human instinct to grow and dominate.

At that point, there would always be resistance. The Baylor Federation was a civilized nation, but not all parts of the world were the same. Some regions remained corrupt and backward. When trading with such areas, having an armed force aligned with Lynch's expectations.

Moreover, Lynch planned to visit various countries, understanding their cultures and helping locals improve their living standards and integrate into the global community. This was what he discussed with the mayor about taking on more international social responsibilities for mutual development.

After leaving the military club, Lynch had Ferrall drive him to buy a bottle of red wine. Interestingly, many stores had temporarily closed due to the previous night's unrest, but liquor and tobacco shops remained open, seemingly without fear of being robbed. It was as if everyone passing by these stores suddenly became polite.

With the wine in hand, Ferrall dropped Lynch off in a somewhat remote neighborhood. Ferrall knew this was where Lynch's parents lived, having been informed through the mayor's investigation.

"Do you need me to pick you up?" Ferrall asked as Lynch got out of the car. "This area doesn't seem very safe."

In the time they had parked, two or three people had slowly approached from a distance. They appeared to be wandering aimlessly, but both Lynch and Ferrall knew they had a purpose.

Lynch shook his head. "I'm not sure how long it will take. I might stay overnight."

Ferrall nodded. "Alright, then. Call me if you need anything," he said, rolling up the window and driving off quickly.

Lynch glanced at the men watching him and stepped into the apartment building, leaving them disappointed as they turned their attention back to the street.

Following a somewhat faded but instinctual memory, Lynch found the door he could never forget. It had some knife-carved markings, old doodles he had made as a child, and a crack from when his father punched the door in frustration over Lynch's defiance.

He knocked on the door, and after about half a minute, a cautious voice came from inside. "Who's there?"

"It's me, Sella."

Sella was Lynch's mother's name. In most ordinary families, children would call their parents "Mom" or "Dad" only when they were young. As they grew up and moved out, using first names became a common habit. This didn't apply to affluent families who would maintain close relationships, possibly due to their better living conditions.

The door quickly opened, revealing a woman with a delighted look on her face. She wiped her hands on her apron instinctively. "My goodness, I didn't know it was you. You know how things are now..." she said, stepping aside. "Quick, come in"

Sella was only thirty-nine years old, having given birth to Lynch at nineteen. Lynch's father was twenty-one at the time. According to federal law, one could marry at sixteen, but adulthood was reached at twenty. However, pregnancy and childbirth after eighteen would not trigger investigations—such were the peculiarities of federal law.

Sella looked older than her years, appearing around forty-two or forty-three. Her eyes brightened at the sight of Lynch, momentarily forgetting about the small gift he held. Only when Lynch placed the wine on the table did she notice it.

"You shouldn't have bought this. It looks expensive." she said, still adhering to ordinary household norms, seemingly forgetting Lynch's current status. She took the wine to the kitchen. "Rest a while. Your father will be back in about half an hour."

The apartment was small, just as he remembered. Sitting in the living room, he could already smell the fragrance wafting from the kitchen. He stood at the kitchen door and glanced inside. A pot on the stained stove was bubbling with something thick and aromatic.

The kitchen was cramped, suitable for one person to work in. Any more would be too crowded. He wandered through the other rooms and reached the innermost one. The door still bore his name, "Lynch." For some reason, he felt a pang of nervousness.

Turning the doorknob, he stepped inside, flicking on the light switch as he had done countless times before. The dim light revealed posters of faded film stars on the walls, greeting him like old friends. Everything was exactly as he had left it the last time he was here.

He sat on the bed, feeling the clean sheets. The desk was spotless too, showing that his parents regularly cleaned the room even though he wasn't living there.Please vote for this novel at https://www.novelupdates.com/series/blackstone-code/There are advance chapters available nowAccess will be granted 24 hours after the donationTier 1: 7 Advance chapters Link

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