Darkstone Code

"I know you!"

Perseus also grabbed a napkin to wipe his hands, extending a hand to shake with Lynch.

His hand was... plump, which made his fingers appear stubby, yet it wasn’t greasy, and quite soft.

"People say you are the finest of the younger generation!"

Perseus looked about thirty, but Lynch wasn’t quite sure of his exact age. Sometimes, Federation people appeared very old, and sometimes quite young—it’s complicated.

However, from Perseus’s tone when he said this, you could sense a bit of dissatisfaction. But it didn’t matter; many people these days are unhappy, Lynch couldn’t care less.

He replied modestly, "I owe it to everyone’s support!"

Perseus was taken aback for a moment, not immediately grasping the meaning of Lynch’s words. It took him two or three seconds to chuckle, "You’re much more interesting than I imagined, Lynch."

"Speaking of which, Truman often mentions you. Sometimes during our gatherings, he says you’re very smart and quite proud."

Mr. Truman’s family has been in the military from the beginning, passing down through generations. Although rank wasn’t high, it was only at Truman’s level that he had the opportunity to rise to General, yet their influence within the military was by no means weak.

In this era, military families often band together, controlling the Federation’s military in ways outsiders can’t understand.

To ensure this unity continues, each General maintains good relationships with other Generals.

Things like gatherings, and exchanges are quite common.

Of course, this refers to their offspring, not themselves. Given their differing status and position, doing so would be too sensitive, and the media and public wouldn’t be pleased.

Lynch responded with a smile, "I’ll invite him for a meal!"

Perseus couldn’t hold back and softly laughed, "You’re really interesting, Lynch, just like Truman said, you’re very proud, but your pride isn’t annoying!"

He paused before saying, "Shall we continue eating?"

He seemed disinterested in discussing other matters, and Lynch naturally wouldn’t dampen the mood. The two chatted about food while eating.

After mentioning a few dishes Perseus hadn’t tried, the interaction ended without any private exchanges, and they parted ways.

When returning to Mr. Wardrick, he smiled at Lynch, "Looks like you failed."

Lynch raised an eyebrow, "Why do you say that?"

Mr. Wardrick responded as if it was obvious, "You didn’t exchange cards or leave contacts. Actually, many people hope to open some windows through Perseus."

"Their influence in the military runs deep. Convincing him implies becoming an important military partner."

"Yet, over the years, no one has succeeded. He appears fat and dumb, fooling most by his looks!"

With a name like ’Victory,’ the elders at home are either Federation Army Generals or Navy Generals, with uncles, siblings, almost all officers or connected to the military.

Perseus, born from the union of two military powerhouses, was expected to thrive even before birth.

Such individuals might not receive the meticulous nurturing of major families, but they certainly aren’t lacking.

From an early age, many gravitated around him. Due to his size and the unfortunate notion that obesity equates to stupidity, people perceived him as their key to high society.

Yet, unfortunately, not a single person has succeeded.

Wherever he appears, he solely eats, drinks, listens, while refusing any other involvement.

Even the smallest matters, like which dishes are good, he won’t express an opinion.

The fact that he appears to have no judgment makes many think he’s increasingly dumb, but no one has won his trust.

Thus, at today’s occasion, nobody approached him to converse; he stayed by the table eating alone.

In Mr. Wardrick’s view, Lynch couldn’t succeed either.

Lynch smiled without arguing.

He always believed everyone has weaknesses, desires, needs; it’s just a matter of whether you can find these things.

Just because others can’t find them doesn’t mean he can’t—that’s not Lynch’s way!

The two then discussed the meeting. After the reception, there was a salon focusing on domestic and international free trade.

Very broad, lacking core content, yet not simple.

After the reception, Lynch witnessed it firsthand.

The host, a third-level member, had a badge radiating flame-like brilliance under the lights, especially the Eye of Truth, as if it really had an eye secretly observing the world.

The industries and companies that the host mentioned, if thoroughly investigated, will reveal that they all belong to the Duncan Clan.

When the host brought up a heavy industry company, Mr. Wardrick, who had been silent, suddenly spoke, discussing recent orders with the Military for his heavy machinery plant and the projected developments and some plans that could be disclosed.

He talked about the benefits of merger developments, some issues of industrial upgrades, which happen to be the most popular topics at the moment.

How exactly should one proceed to imbue ancient industries with new life force in the new era, so they can continue to thrive?

Subsequently, the host mentioned some resources, and Mr. Pato began discussing the future of the resource industry.

It’s like... another cocktail party, but instead of enjoying the gourmet dishes laid out on the tables, people are indulging in the industries of the Duncan Clan.

They are discussing the ways and means of dissecting it, and how best to exploit it to grow their own strength.

Many believe that the Saint Harmony Association is a very cohesive secretive organization, but in reality, it is not.

It is a loose alliance where people exchange intelligence and possibly collaborate, without requiring close unity among members, nor restricting competition or even clashes of interest among them.

Clashes in every sense of the word.

This place also implements the core value of capitalism—profit above all.

Thus, here also operates the natural law of species.

The fate of the weak is to be annexed by the strong.

Similarly, people do not condemn the strong for preying on the weak; instead, they congratulate them on growing larger and becoming less vulnerable to being devoured by other giants!

Without moral considerations, capitalism pursues profit, being interested in nothing else.

Everyone was expressing their views, except a few who remained silent.

Perseus was among them, but this was no surprise; he was like a mouthpiece for his family’s generals, conveying what he hears back to them for decision-making.

Lynch also remained silent, which was unexpected because Lynch was not the kind of low-key guy. He had said many things that had laid the foundation for some new disciplines.

Like "Financial War," for example, which many scholars and experts had organized to propose their thoughts and understanding, gradually evolving it into a new discipline.

And Lynch, was the founder, unrivaled.

Whether in front of the media, the public or in private settings, he always had plenty to say, fitting well with the spirit of freedom of the Federation.

But today he didn’t say much, arousing a lot of curiosity.

The host deliberately pointed to him, "I noticed this is Mr. Lynch’s first time at our gathering, he appears a bit shy, but I believe everyone here is enthusiastic and will help him integrate more quickly..."

The light laughter had some kind and some unkind, and others malicious tones.

Not everyone liked Lynch, nor did everyone like his never-failing and always advancing legendary stories.

The host looked at him, "Would you like to say something?"

Lynch sat on the broad sofa, nodded in acknowledgment to the host, and then began a small story.

"I heard an interesting story that goes like this: on a mountain outside a town, there was a pack of coyotes, numerous and hiding in the woods, with no good way for the townspeople to deal with them."

"Later, as a traveler passed through the town, he said he encountered a pack of coyotes outside, looking not very well."

"So the townspeople started thinking about how to make money from these coyotes."

"Someone said the coyote’s fur could be sold, another said their teeth made great collectibles, while others believed the bones and meat had a market, and some suggested selling the coyote pups to circuses."

The room was silent; those sitting here weren’t fools—they immediately realized Lynch was satirizing them.

And this is the biggest difference between real gentlemen and fake ones. Even when knowing they’d been satirized, they didn’t angrily refute but quietly continued listening to what Lynch had to say.

If you can’t tolerate others pointing out your flaws, you will never improve!

Everyone knew this!

Lynch pursed his lips and continued with a smile, "Then the townspeople decided to go into the mountain to capture the coyotes, but they didn’t consider some issues."

"Whether the traveler was lying, whether the situation in the mountain was as bad as presumed, and whether the coyotes he saw were the same ones the townspeople had in mind!"

He adjusted his clothing, then changed his tone, "Gentlemen, when we face a pack of hungry wolves, the first thing we must do is arm ourselves fully and prepare thoroughly."

"At the same time, we must recognize this: wolves won’t just wait to be slaughtered; they will resist!"

"If they resist, what should the people going into the mountain do?"

"Without thinking through and solving these problems, no amount of our discussions will be meaningful!"