Darkstone Code

Perhaps it was due to wanting to leave a better impression on the new boss, or perhaps it was to demonstrate his value; Lime's attitude had already shifted without him even realizing it.

"Radio technology is currently the most widely used cutting-edge scientific technology. Many people are researching this..." He tilted his head slightly, as almost all the inventions around them had some connection to radio.

People believed that radio technology could change the world, and indeed it did. They believed it could continue to transform this world, making it better and better.

"I don't know much about this subject, but this inventor hopes to gain no less than ten thousand dollars from the yellow slip to support his continued research. If you're interested in this technology or this person, I suggest you contact him directly."

The yellow slip Lime was currently selling had a seventy-five percent markup. Simply put, if Lynch wanted to obtain part of the invention rights by purchasing the yellow slip, he would pay seventy-five percent more than directly contacting Kobert, nearly doubling the cost, roughly an extra ten thousand dollars.

Lime wanted to demonstrate his value, and Lynch offered him some hope. A few simple words made him feel as if this era had reached out to him.

He wasn't the kind who had just graduated and was naive; he knew his value lay in creating value for Lynch. This was the value he first created for Lynch.

"May I see those yellow slips?" Lynch posed a question.

Lime hesitated for a moment but quickly responded, "Of course, Mr. Lynch..."

He opened his briefcase and took out a stack of substandard yellow-colored stocks. To save costs, brokerage firms wouldn't use high-grade copperplate paper or copperplate printing, nor would they use any security features on these yellow slips.

If they didn't do this, using high-grade copperplate paper and copperplate printing, they might even face losses.

Not every yellow slip had the chance to be entirely sold out. Some yellow slips didn't even have buyers. Of course, to shift risks and gain profits, sometimes brokerage firms would suggest to salespeople like Lime to use their own money to purchase all unsold yellow slips to secure continued employment at the company.

It's unbelievable, but such things happened daily. To a brokerage firm, there's no difference between scamming money from those who need funds, from investors who don't understand finance, or from brokers who sell stocks for them.

As long as they can pocket the company's share, they don't care about others' situations.

If Lime hadn't completed his work by the end of the month, he'd either face unemployment or find a way to buy all the yellow slips himself.

This was Lynch's first contact with such yellow slips. Held in hand, they felt like cheap poster paper for brushing simple content, seemingly unable to withstand much handling.

"It looks quite fragile..." Lynch commented while shaking a slip, and it rustled oddly.

Lime, a bit embarrassed, smiled, "We never care what happens to them after they're sold."

"How much have you sold?" Lynch asked.

Lime was slightly embarrassed, "I've sold only a hundred shares so far; the rest are here..."

A hundred shares, equating to thirty-five dollars, meant he'd earn five dollars. His statement of having a monthly income of a thousand was merely a conversational strategy, a tactic.

He didn't blame anything but nodded slightly, "A hundred shares, insignificant. Then take me to see the inventor. Perhaps we'll have a pleasant conversation!"

Soon, they arrived at a booth that was ending its display, where a middle-aged man looking thirty-seven or thirty-eight was tidying up his equipment, his expression somewhat angry.

Perhaps noticing someone approaching, he glanced at the visitors with the corner of his eye and continued tidying his things.

"You seem quite angry right now..." Lynch joked.

Provoked by Lynch's tease, the inventor turned around, glaring at Lynch, "If someone says your invention is a load of crap, you'd be as angry as I am."

"If you're also here to mock me, I wouldn't mind throwing a punch at you!" His loud voice caught the attention of those nearby, and he pointed to the road with a shout, "Get lost, disappear from my sight!"

Lime quickly pulled the inventor aside and whispered something to him. About a minute later, the inventor returned to Lynch, apologizing for his earlier rashness.

"I apologize, Mr. Lynch. I didn't recognize you, and..." He stumbled over his words, as apologies often required a delicate skill.

"No need to apologize; I understand. Now, do you have time to discuss your inventions with me?"

"Of course, yes, certainly, Mr. Lynch!"

In subsequent conversations with the inventor, he discussed his inventions.

The misuse of radio technology privately had become a norm, especially with the proliferation of private stations, forcing the Federation to introduce usage restrictions on radio signal frequencies. They also limited station power to ensure these private stations didn't interfere with normal radio usage.

A large number of frequency bands are occupied by "official" entities and by officially registered commercial radio stations, which also causes congestion and chaos in the non-occupied bands.

The inventor is also one of the victims. The constant interference made his plan to make money through a personal radio station fail.

Maybe for revenge, or for some other reason, he started researching radio localization and successfully reported several private radio stations with unhealthy content.

Quickly, he thought, since he could locate the approximate position of private radios through certain methods, why couldn't he use radio localization to find the position of larger equipment?

For example... war machines?

So he began his career of invention and creation. Like most inventors, he believed that his ideas and creativity were indeed valuable. Once his inventions were successfully applied to war systems, they could bring him enormous wealth.

To achieve this, he sold his house, divorced his wife, and lived in the mountains—there was less radio interference on the mountain, allowing him to better experiment with his ideas continuously.

Ultimately, he ran out of money.

He scrapped together twelve hundred dollars; this was his last hope.

"...By using multiple receivers to constantly evaluate and adjust the time difference of signal reception, eventually, we can provide an accurate direction and distance!"

When summing up, the inventor couldn't help but praise his invention, and his face was filled with a proud smile.

Lynch didn't immediately respond, only asking a question, "I'm not very knowledgeable in this area, but I have one question. Based on what you said, you always locate someone's position in the presence of a signal source. If the unit we want to locate maintains radio silence, not emitting radio waves, how do we locate it?"

The inventor's expression froze immediately and, combined with his long-untended beard and such, made him look quite amusing.

Lynch's question instantly turned the inventor's recent research into a real joke. Yes, his research was always based on the target continuously emitting radio waves outward so he could accurately locate it.

He aimed to identify those affecting his private radio stations, so from the start, he never considered the problem of silence. Now, a more practical question raised by Lynch left him without any solutions, not even an idea.

After a few minutes or so, the inventor became utterly depressed and despondent, shaking his head, "I'm sorry, Mr. Lynch, I don't know what to do. I have failed!"

"They were right; my invention is worthless!"

For the sake of invention and creation, he got divorced, sold his house, and lived in the mountains like a wild man. As a result, a single sentence from Lynch made him deny all his past efforts; he felt he was going to break down!

At this time, Lynch suddenly said, "I will buy all the shares you have entrusted the brokerage company to issue..."

The inventor was stunned again and hurriedly said, "You don't need to pity me, Mr. Lynch, my invention is worthless!"

"Then make it valuable!" Lynch said, pulling out a checkbook, writing down a string of numbers, and handing it to Lime, "I never disappoint those who are willing to trust me and work with me."

"Take your share of the profits, complete your last task at your current company with the best performance, leave cleanly, and then come find me. You have my business card!"

After speaking, without waiting for Lime to say anything, he turned to look at the inventor, "Your research is not entirely worthless, at least we've conquered part of it."

"Do you know about bats?"

"Go ask a biologist how they hunt. You will definitely gain new insights into your research, and I believe you can do it; this is also my first investment in you!"

Looking at the two moved people, Lynch couldn't help but sigh; this era truly was too wonderful.

His purpose in doing this was not purely to win people's hearts, although winning hearts was part of his plan, but more to avoid future worries.

The shares issued by the inventor are legally effective, and there is a stock transfer contract between him and the brokerage company; each little yellow slip represents a portion of the shares.

Before the inventor's invention could actually be monetized, those little yellow slips were basically useless. But once the invention held value, those little slips would become a big trouble.

Buying them doesn't cost much, but the loss they could cause to Lynch might be greater than tens of thousands of dollars.

Moreover, strictly speaking, buying those little yellow slips only equated to paying ten thousand dollars to the brokerage company; the rest was invested in the inventor and Lime's commission.

A similar expenditure, yet this money was well spent.