Blackstone Code

In a dimly lit room, a family of three sat around the dinner table. Not far from the table, a radio on a wall shelf was making a crackling noise. A distorted female voice, indicating it was an opera, emanated from the nearly broken speaker.

Eating a dinner that tasted like excrement and sipping wine that cost only a few dozen bucks per bottle, the feeling was... hard to describe.

Shortly after Lynch sighed about dinner, Nail scooped a large spoonful into his mouth and, while eating, asked, "So, what are you here for? To mock us for still living the same as before?"

Nail immediately displayed his aggression. This was his territory, his family, and no one could interfere with his control and dominance over it.

In many culturally diverse countries, people would find the social and familial relationships of the Baylor Federation people hard to understand, just as the Baylor Federation people viewed others.

Culture is a crucial component of society.

When Nail used to get angry when Lynch was a kid, Lynch always felt immense pressure and fear, like facing a massive landslide or tsunami. An angry Nail was like an erupting volcano.

Back then, he was younger, stronger, and more dominant. Now, things seemed to have changed.

Nail no longer seemed so intimidating. For most children, this might signify growing up, but for Lynch, it was something different.

"You're an old man now..." Lynch shrugged, looking at Nail. "So let's not get angry. Let's stay calm and rational. I'm not here to cause trouble or laugh at you. I'm just here to check on you."

Lynch concealed the phone call from Sella. Nail didn't have a habit of domestic violence, but revealing it would make Sella's situation worse, so he hid it.

"While chatting with Sella earlier, I heard you lost your job. Do you have any new plans?" He looked at Nail, who remained silent, eating the food on his plate.

Lynch's face showed a hint of a smile. "Come on, you can treat me as an acquaintance, a friend. Isn't that what we always say?"

The Baylor Federation's education system had a profound and meaningful saying: parents are the best friends of their children.

This phrase was widely accepted and had played a crucial role in promoting the current educational system, family, and social relationships in the Baylor Federation, aside from those crimes caused by family issues.

Nail quickly finished his meal, even using his fingers to scrape the edges of the plate where the spoon couldn't reach, and then shoved the remnants into his mouth.

He then picked up what might be the best wine he'd ever drunk and gulped it down, even rinsing his mouth with it, swallowing the food residue together.

Lynch watched him the entire time. Only then did Nail look up at Lynch. "Yes, I'm unemployed. You want to give me a job? You want me to call you 'boss' like everyone else?"

This might be Nail's last shred of dignity as a father, but he couldn't help but mock Lynch.

Lynch showed little reaction. Given his real age, these things seemed somewhat amusing.

Being someone adept at persuading others, dealing with someone like Nail required almost no effort.

He didn't refute or agree but instead changed the subject. "Recently, many people are losing their jobs. Do you remember Katherine? Her father also lost his job."

This topic quickly resonated with Nail, and Sella joined in timely. "I know, your girlfriend. Did her father lose his job too? That's terrible!"

Lynch nodded. "After finding out, I discussed it with her and arranged a job for him. I recently set up a transportation company, you know, with warehouses and trucks."

During certain periods, warehouse and truck jobs were highly sought after by the lower class because getting in meant stable income, and it wasn't low.

Hearing this, Nail couldn't help but complain, "I know that guy. He's only good for dirty work. What job did you give him?"

"Manager. It's not a hard job, just keeping track of incoming and outgoing goods and making sure the workers don't take what's not theirs," Lynch replied casually, as if it was nothing.

Sella glanced at Nail. The couple communicated briefly in a way outsiders couldn't understand, then she said, "He won't do as well as your father. You know he's always the best, whether at home or in the factory."

Lynch smiled, his expression somewhat playful, looking at Nail. "He calls me 'boss' now."

Nail became visibly upset. "I won't call you 'boss'!"

Lynch clapped his hands. "Then it's settled. I'll arrange a job for you, but you won't call me 'boss'!"

Nail was taken aback for a moment. They stared at each other until Nail's face turned red. Suddenly, he stood up, muttering "I'm full," and quickly retreated to his room.

Once inside, Nail went to the bedside table, opened a drawer, and took out a photo frame containing a picture of three smiling faces.

Outside the room, Sella's face was full of smiles. She held Lynch's hand, unsure how to express her gratitude.

Lynch was her child, but she also had to thank him. Lynch patted her hand. "No need to thank me. It's what I should do. We're family."

Lynch didn't leave that night. When it was completely dark outside, the streets became very unsafe. Surprisingly, he felt at ease staying there.

Perhaps it was because the people on the streets knew the residents here had no valuables, so they never considered risking a ten-year sentence to rob a poor family or face the wrath of someone who might fight back—studies show that rich people were more cooperative during home invasions, while poor families often fought back desperately.

Around eleven at night, as Lynch was about to fall asleep on his short bed, there was a knock on the bedroom door.

Nail knocked and then poked his head in. Seeing Lynch in bed, he waved a half-full bottle of wine, indicating he wanted to mend their relationship.

Soon, the father and the son sat in the living room, basking in the night, watching a snowy TV screen and unfunny programs.

They didn't have deep conversations, just clinked glasses, drank, and emptied the bottle.

The next morning, Lynch woke up with a headache. The Baylor Federation's alcohol packaging standard meant each bottle had at least 680 milliliters, and drinking so much at once was a bit overwhelming for him.

Looking at his watch on the desk, it was almost ten o'clock. He patted his face to wake himself up a bit. When he came out of the room, Nail was already sitting on the worn sofa watching TV.

Compared to Lynch's hangover, the drinks Nail had the night before were like water to him, having no effect.

They exchanged a glance, then looked away, but Sella could keenly sense that their relationship had improved significantly, which made her happy.

After all, two years apart only brought a slight sense of unfamiliarity; there wasn't much conflict left.

Lynch was doing well now. Nail was just too proud to admit it, but deep down, he was proud too. This was the true feeling of most parents.

On one hand, they would strictly demand from their children, and on the other, they felt proud of them.

"Are you staying for lunch?" Sella asked. If they were staying, she'd buy some beef. Last night's dinner was too simple; lunch needed to be proper.

Lynch shook his head. He woke up later than expected. "No, Nail and I are going to the company. Also, give me your bank account. I'm an adult now and should bear some family expenses."

Yes, according to the federal law, Lynch was twenty and finally an adult. Some might have kids who could run at his age, but that was okay; it was legal.

Sella hesitated, but Nail impatiently said, "Give it to him. He should do something."

After getting the bank account, Lynch said goodbye to Sella. He didn't give her a check. In poor areas, checks weren't a good idea.

Because cash checks required a deposit, and a 20 buck check usually meant a few hundred or thousand bucks of deposit, while transfer checks imply large transactions, which were tempting to those on the edge.

Lynch would directly transfer money to Sella's account so she could withdraw it without drawing attention. Even street beggars had bank accounts; it was normal.

Soon, an unremarkable car appeared and then left. It was the service company's car from his residential compound.

Last time, Lynch drove his own car to Katherine's house, causing a lot of trouble for her family, so this time he was smarter.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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