Blackstone Code

“Good afternoon, Lynch!”

Ms. Tracy entered Lynch’s house wearing a beautiful fur coat.

The fur, from an unknown animal, looked extremely smooth—just imagining running a hand over it felt silky.

The black collar paired with the shiny golden-brown fur made the coat expensive; many people might never afford it in a lifetime.

But it was just one of many winter coats she owned, likely to be discarded in a couple of years.

She’d give it to a maid, a servant, or relatives in the countryside—an efficient way to reuse.

It cleared out things without meaning anymore and showed off her generosity, which was good publicity for her charitable work.

A kind and generous person.

She took off her hat and handed it to the female attendant behind her, who looked about thirty, with a mature figure and a fully adult face.

“When you called, I immediately canceled everything this afternoon. You’ve got to show me what’s so urgent that you can’t wait!”

Before Lynch called, she was supposed to attend an event at the welfare center, funded by social donations, some specifically aimed at improving conditions for girls there.

The Women’s Rights Protection Association wasn’t a profit-making entity; its income came from local government grants and public donations.

Donations needed a cause. For example, the president’s wife once raised funds to improve medical care for abandoned babies.

The Women’s Rights Association had many donation projects; improving welfare girls’ living conditions was one.

Sometimes it all sounded unbelievable.

It also showed another truth: if you don’t fight or demand, you get nothing. Only by fighting and making noise do people give in, even if reluctantly.

Unfortunately, Lynch’s call interrupted today’s schedule.

“You’ll see soon. Please have a seat.”

After sitting, Tracy noticed the maid working nearby and shook her head.

She thought the maid’s skirt was too short—bending over would expose her backside, a bad habit.

Ms. Tracy, who had never had to work hard in her life, always told women to keep their dignity while striving to change society.

That maid must be trying to seduce Lynch for a shortcut—a shameless girl!

Naturally, Tracy didn’t believe Lynch would demand such a skirt length. With his wealth and power, he could have almost any woman; no need to bother a maid.

That meant the maid was the one trying to seduce him!

After Tracy’s assistant arranged her coats and accessories, she stood behind her.

Soon, Lynch arrived with the teenage girl.

The girl wore only a loose, oversized men’s shirt, her height modest; the shirt’s hem reached just past her knees.

Tracy frowned slightly. The girl didn’t look like a Federation citizen.

Though the Federation was a multi-ethnic mix, after two or three centuries, certain traits like hair, skin tone, height, and posture remained typical.

This girl was thin, small, darker-skinned—definitely not Federation.

Tracy’s attention quickly shifted from appearance to bruises and wounds on the girl’s exposed skin.

“What happened to her?” Tracy asked, puzzled.

She knew some wealthy people abused others or kept slaves for amusement. Rumors said Federation elites did this, but she didn’t think Lynch caused those wounds.

Lynch was gentle and polite—he wouldn’t do that.

It had to be someone else. Lynch only wanted to help her.

Lynch walked to the sofa, smiled gently, and nodded slightly at the girl.

She immediately removed the shirt, standing completely naked before Tracy.

Maybe from shame or cold—the room was cooler than the bedroom after Tracy opened the door.

Goosebumps rose on her skin, making her flesh more textured and defined; tightened skin pulled some wounds closed, while open sores pushed outward.

“My God!” Tracy exclaimed. “What happened? Who did this?”

Neither realized it was rude for a girl to undress in front of strangers, especially men. Both quickly fell into their roles.

“She’s Mike’s younger brother’s fiancée from the recent Sugra tragedy. She just became an adult.”

“Mike’s entire family perished, and as the sole female survivor, she endured inhuman abuse.”

“As a Federation citizen, I love this country and everything in it.”

“When I learned someone survived, I rescued her…”

Lynch spoke calmly, without shouting or hysteria.

Sitting on the sofa, holding Tracy’s hand, he spoke with composed yet overwhelming strength.

“Please help her, Ms. Tracy. Only you can do this now in the entire Federation.”

Tracy nodded solemnly. She knew about the recent controversy and agreed without hesitation.

“I will, Lynch. You’re truly a kind-hearted young man.”

Lynch smiled shyly. “When I was poor, I had no power to change society, no ability to do anything.”

“Now that I have the ability, I want to use it to do something—for this society, this country, for humanity’s last moral bottom line.”

“Maybe it won’t be much, but I will keep doing it.”

Ms. Tracy squeezed Lynch’s hand firmly. Well said—truly a handsome, gentle, and kind-hearted young man.

She turned to the girl and beckoned, “Come here, child.”

The girl approached, and Tracy closely examined the bruises and wounds on her body—some fading, others still raw.

“How did this happen?” she asked, gently touching one wound.

The girl’s face turned pale, then flushed. “They bit me…”

“Them?” Tracy’s voice rose slightly.

The girl nodded indifferently. “Yes. I don’t know who exactly. They kept abusing and torturing me.”

“Poor little thing. Can you turn around?”

Without hesitation, the girl turned, revealing more scars on her back.

There were whip marks, burns from cigarette butts, cuts from knives, and small holes as if stabbed with something.

Her whole body was injured—like a toy almost destroyed.

Tracy brushed under her lower eyelid, then raised her head slightly. “This is terrible. Give her some clothes!”

The order was clearly not for Lynch, who looked at the maid. The maid took Tracy’s assistant upstairs.

Upstairs were some clothes belonging to Penny. If Penny was in Eminence, she’d stay there, so some clothes were left behind.

For Penny, losing clothes just meant buying new ones—she didn’t care where they ended up.

After being naked for so long, the girl finally dressed and seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.

Tracy stroked her hair gently. “I will make the whole world understand what you’ve suffered. But it might be embarrassing—you’ll have to show your wounds to more people.”

“Of course, we’ll cover the private parts…”

The girl looked at Lynch. He nodded.

“Ms. Tracy is one of the Federation’s most influential women’s rights advocates. You’re Mike’s younger brother’s fiancée—or, you can say, one of us, a Federation citizen.”

“If you want to avenge Mike’s brother, people must understand these terrible things really happened. Do you understand what I mean?”

The girl said nothing, but her expression and attitude showed she understood.

Yes, in just one night, she went from a girl planning to kidnap Mike’s brother to get a ticket out, to being his fiancée.

No matter if Mike’s brother was married or a fraud—he’s dead now, leaving behind this suffering girl.

At times like this, should we still argue about unimportant things and hurt her further?

No, we won’t.

The Federation wouldn’t allow it.

Only by sympathizing with the weak do we realize we are not pitiful ourselves.