Darkstone Code

"What do you want?" Lynch broke off another piece of the pastry and popped it into his mouth.

Mikhail smiled seemingly modestly, "It's not what I want, it's what our people want!"

As he said this, he licked his lips, "Mr. Lynch, the market environment in Bail Federal is much more open than ours. So, during your business dealings, have you ever encountered fraudsters?"

Lynch nodded, "I have."

In Bail Federal, commercial-related financial fraud cases are rampant and increasingly elusive, especially those related to banks.

Bad checks, forged bank notes, various criminal acts exploiting system loopholes—no one knows the Federation's legal loopholes better than these scammers, nor does anyone understand the problems within the banking regulations better than them.

According to Lynch's chat with Jogriman, last year Gold Exchange encountered various bad checks and check frauds totaling over 4.6 million, and this was just for one Gold Exchange bank. The Empire has six major banks, and many regional small banks; in reality, people face much more fraud than what they imagine or read in newspapers.

Mikhail's smile deepened, "We've encountered them too…" His tone carried a hint of reflection as he suddenly shifted, becoming somewhat forceful, "We've met many fraudsters under the guise of investment, who tricked us with promises of a beautiful future, betraying our hope for development, betraying people's desire."

"Tragedies should not repeat themselves. What you need to do is very simple, Mr. Lynch; you only need to deposit some money in a bank we designate, and people will believe you are different from those fraudsters!"

Mikhail picked up a cup, drinking deeply from the overly sweet tea inside. A few seconds later, he set the cup down and wiped the residual water on his lips with a handkerchief, pressing it casually, "Of course, this is just my proposal…"

He looked at Lynch, his face expressionless, but his eyes were brimming with emotions.

It's a feeling that's hard to describe, not as easy to detect as direct expressions, more like a… mysticism. Because we know eyes can't actually perform any actions, or contain colors, but people can truly perceive emotional changes in others through eye contact.

Lynch looked at him, asking, "Is this protection money?"

"Protection money?" Mikhail's tone suddenly rose, his eyebrows raised as if genuinely surprised, "Of course not, why would you think that?"

"The money you deposit in our bank won't be touched, only you have the authority to dispose of it. We're doing this just to show people that you are a true investor, your money is already in place—at least part of it is. This money won't leave with you if you decide to go, that's all!"

"You can see it as a gentleman's agreement or a form of guarantee, but it's definitely not protection money. We never extort merchants, and Nagariel is a civilized nation!"

Lynch maintained a smile, nodding cooperatively, seemingly in agreement. He placed the cornered pastry back on the plate, dusted his hands, "How much?"

Mikhail licked his lips again, unclear if it's because the tea residue on his lips started evaporating leaving only sticky sugar syrup, or because he felt thirsty after consuming so many sweet things. He licked his lips once more, which was actually quite impolite.

If in the Federation, those women standing afar would be astonished, covering their wide smiles with disbelief guiding others—"Look at that guy, he's really rude.

"One billion Galil, or the equivalent in Federation Sol." Mikhail directly made an outrageous demand, adding, "If you deposit in Federation Sol, we can offer a partial exemption."

Nagariel's foreign exchange reserves are not large, but the ruling class's cross-border consumption is frequent. Using the official exchange rate to convert foreign exchange isn't too disadvantageous, but the problem is that no international bank is willing to exchange currency using Nagariel's self-proposed exchange rates; everything follows market fluctuations.

Mikhail is also well aware, hence his suggestion of reduced foreign exchange deposit is simply deducting the margin between official and actual exchange rates.

"That's roughly…" Lynch furrowed his brow doing mental calculations, "one hundred and thirteen thousand Federation Sol!"

Mikhail looked at Lynch unexpectedly; he initially thought Lynch would outright refuse, then he would tell Lynch that if Lynch refused their demand, he would be restricted from leaving the country.

Despite Lynch having some bodyguards who carry guns, there are only forty or so of them. Even if each could fight a hundred Nagariel warriors, just four thousand soldiers can capture them.

Nagariel has plenty of worthless common people roaming the streets; giving them the chance to become soldiers is a generous blessing, they'd be more than happy.

Therefore, Mikhail never considered Lynch could refuse; he couldn't refuse.

Likewise, he hadn't expected Lynch's reaction to be so indifferent; Lynch even calculated the exchange rate, leaving Mikhail a bit flustered.

After several seconds, he did his calculations, feeling it should be about right, then nodded, "Yes, your math skill is something worth boasting about!"

"There's nothing to brag about, I can deposit this money..."

Before Lynch could finish his sentence, a smile appeared on Mikhail's face. This kid was easier to handle than he had imagined. He hadn't even uttered any threats, yet Lynch had already given in. This also meant they could extort more from Lynch.

Wealth, technology, and other things.

But the next half of Lynch's sentence made the expression on his face freeze instantly.

He said, "...but if I deposit the money into the bank you designate, what do I get in return?"

Mikhail really wanted to ask Lynch what he meant by that. Why did he understand every word Lynch had said but couldn't grasp their meaning together?

Seeing Mikhail, who seemed to have lost the ability to speak, Lynch smiled. A gentle breeze blew, carrying the scent of flowers, stirring the plants in the garden.

The dappled sunlight flickered through the gaps in the leaves, lingering briefly on Lynch's face, making Mikhail avert his eyes. It was too dazzling.

The sunlight was dazzling, and so was Lynch's smile.

"Mr. Mikhail, you want me to show my sincerity. I don't think your request is excessive, and I'm willing to show my sincerity as per your demands, but what about your sincerity?"

Lynch leaned back against the chair, crossed his legs, and lit a cigarette. In an instant, the initiative in their conversation shifted. The smoke from the cigarette obscured their vision, and Lynch's smile became somewhat bizarre, like a smirk.

"The demonstration of sincerity should be mutual, don't you think, Mr. Mikhail?"

Not easy to deal with!

In an instant, this thought appeared in Mikhail's mind. Lynch was very difficult to deal with. He had agreed without hesitation to his, perhaps, troublesome request, only to suddenly turn the tables.

The more he had troubled Lynch, the harder Lynch's counterattack was to resolve. After all, he had agreed to an unreasonable request. If his "sincerity" was not reciprocated, Lynch could refuse to fulfill his sincerity because Mikhail had initially behaved undesirably.

Mikhail stared intently at Lynch. The damned smoke always made him feel that Lynch was not truly visible, even though they were less than two meters apart.

After about a minute of silence, it was Mikhail who couldn't hold his composure. As he lost his initiative, the pressure Lynch was putting on him grew heavier, so much so that he was sweating, forcing him to break the stalemate and directly ask Lynch, "What do you want?"

Lynch shrugged, "Sincerity, or exclusive trade rights!"

He flicked the ash from his cigarette, seemingly indifferent to some of it falling on him in the wind. Looking at Mikhail, his speech quickened but remained clear, "Exclusive trade rights, sole trade rights, whichever term you understand, use that one."

"I can deposit money, one million Federation Sol isn't enough, I can deposit two million, three million, or even more, but you must sign an exclusive trade agreement with me. From the moment of signing, for at least twenty years, the export business of Magulana Province and the specified categories of products can only be exclusively operated by me. I set the prices, establish sales rules, and have the authority to review, supervise, and dispose of them."

He tilted his head slightly, "It's time for you to show sincerity, Mr. Mikhail."

Sweat had appeared on Mikhail's temples. He took out a handkerchief and wiped it away, not immediately responding; Lynch's demands were too excessive, but his earlier requirements were equally excessive.

If he did not agree to these, Lynch would not deposit the money into the bank, trapping him in a deadlock.

In fact, letting Lynch deposit money was a tactic to get some money into their pockets first, later finding an excuse to turn Lynch's "deposit" into an "investment guarantee". Upon completion of all his investments, they would return it to him.

As long as his investment did not conclude, the money would remain untouched, and Lynch might need to deposit more.

But now, this problem was no longer Lynch's; it was Mikhail's and that of the young masters behind him.

"I can't make the decision..."

Hearing this, Lynch stood up, casually flicked away the cigarette butt from his hand, and brushed off the ashes that had fallen on him, "I'm sorry, Mr. Mikhail, find someone who can make decisions to talk to me, and also..." He raised his wrist to glance at his watch, "I have other matters, so I won't keep you any longer!"