In the current environment of the Federation, whether the future development trend was heading towards improvement or deterioration was always a subject of controversy.
Amidst optimism lay deep-seated fear and despair about the future.
Perhaps the unprecedented prosperity in the financial markets at present was the last effort some people made to prove that the "future" might not necessarily be bleak. They had been successful for many years, but ultimately they were destined to fail.
Whenever such topics arose, some people would boldly express views contrary to the mainstream, attracting people to their side.
In fact, people were not necessarily drawn to Lynch because they wanted to hear his annoying nonsense at the moment. They didn't believe the future would worsen, although they were prepared for it and acknowledged the possibility internally.
What they wanted was to uncover flaws in Lynch's words, thereby refuting his views. This would allow them to deceive themselves by convincing that all negative viewpoints were unfounded, fostering the belief that the future would only improve.
Ferrall chuckled. He felt that Lynch had mastered the art of attracting attention. At least he was drawn to him. He didn't push his way in but stood on the periphery of the crowd like others, watching Lynch speak confidently among the crowd.
"I read today's 'Trading Report' before coming here. The Federal Industrial Index has once again reached a historic high, and the daily trading volume has also reached a new peak..."
He stood amidst the crowd with a glass of wine, showing no signs of the nervousness typical of young people on his face, only composure and an aura that could calm others down to listen to his nonsense.
When he put down his glass, people began to hold their breath and focus on him again.
It felt great!
In fact, at such times, going against the mainstream optimism was not a good idea. When everyone was embracing optimistic confusion, stepping forward to deliver the news of impending doomsday would only yield complaints and a cascade of negative emotions, even opposition, rather than gratitude.
But Lynch had no choice. He was too young and didn't come from a privileged background. If he were the heir to a financial conglomerate or a prominent family, he wouldn't need to do this at all.
He had nothing, just a child from an ordinary family. He didn't have any capital to rely on, but he still needed people's support and trust. So the best way was to establish a clear image, one that always stood on the right side.
Perhaps some people were cursing him in their hearts now, but when doomsday arrived, they would think of him first and urgently hope to get some redemption or inspiration from him.
"Gentlemen, it's important to recognize that many businesses and factories around us are facing closures. Numerous enterprises have remained dormant for quite some time. However, the financial markets are booming like never before. This should already serve as a stark warning from our society."
"Some things are deceiving our perception, and some things are unfolding in ways that defy our understanding of the norm. It signifies that disaster is already on its way."
Of course, as mentioned earlier, some people here listened to Lynch's views not because they agreed with him but because they wanted to prove him wrong.
At this moment, a gentleman in his forties cleared his throat, and Lynch promptly paused. People turned to look at him or directed their attention towards him. He then voiced his opinion, "Mr. Lynch, if you believe that the prosperity of the financial market is false, then why are we all making money?"
"And..." he emphasized, pausing for a moment to organize his thoughts, "I noticed some people compare the current financial market to a game of passing the handkerchief. If something unexpected really happens, only the unlucky few holding the handkerchief will suffer, not the entire federal financial system. What do you think about this?"
Passing the handkerchief was a rather traditional game in the Bayler Federation, featuring a simple yet engaging gameplay. Participants would gather together, sing songs and pass the handkerchief around the circle. When the song stopped, the individual holding the handkerchief would need to rise to share a talent with the group.
Before this, some people thought that the current financial market might be a bit risky, but this risk wasn't for everyone; it was only for a few, such as those holding stocks.
Out of a hundred people, only one person held stocks. So even if the stocks became worthless, only the last person would suffer, not everyone.
This viewpoint quickly gained consensus in society, which was why trading volume continued to increase. Everyone believed they could complete the action before the song stopped and that even if someone ended up as the unlucky one, the game would quickly resume.
After a brief downturn, a new cycle of prosperity would swiftly emerge.
This misleading and concept-switching argument, driven by some people, soon became one of the reasons people believed that finance would continue to develop steadily. But in reality, the problem was much more serious than that.
Because what people were passing around wasn't a handkerchief; it was a bomb. The bomb wouldn't spare anyone within its range.
Moreover, this was also a complex process. The complexity of society and human greed would ensure that more than just one person would suffer in this game; it would be the entire economic body supporting the nation.
Facing this issue, Lynch shook his head, "This view is common and widespread, but I think everyone here has overlooked one thing..." He was already prepared for some to challenge him.
"Stocks and finance fundamentally represent the value of tangible industries."
"If someday the financial market collapses, the unlucky ones won't just be the financial investors holding stocks, but every one of us!"
At this point, someone couldn't help but say, "Mr. Lynch, your statement is a bit exaggerated. Why would things unrelated to us affect us?"
"I didn't buy their stocks, nor do I have any business dealings with them. Why would their prosperity or decline affect me?" The speaker seemed very dissatisfied with Lynch's statement and immediately offered a different view.
"And besides, a professor from the Federal Central University also mentioned before that the current wave of closures and the prosperity of the financial markets actually have little connection. The closures are simply the result of natural market competition."
"Many companies are facing closure, but we also see many companies thriving. The financial doomsayers are just fearmongering—disturbing others' perception and judgment with unsettling content. I believe everyone here believes tomorrow will only be better."
Lynch didn't continue to argue. He didn't come here to make enemies with people holding different views. He was just expressing his opinion. When someone presented a decisive statement, he knew it was time to stop.
If this topic continued, it might make him enemies with people who had no business dealings with him originally.
"Maybe you're right." He raised his glass, and the people around politely raised theirs too, ending this uncomfortable topic. "To the Federation..."
Then the crowd dispersed, everyone went to find someone else to chat with or look for opportunities. Ferrall leaned in, "Your views are unique, but it's best not to say these things here."
He gestured towards two figures heavily surrounded by the attendees at the event, "At least they don't like to hear it, nor do they want to see it become a reality."
"There are things you know but cannot say. Once you voice them, if they do become reality, it'll only make others appear foolish."
It was a heartfelt statement. The five thousand bucks Lynch spent weren't in vain, plus Ferrall made a valid point.
During disasters and hardships, people would often overlook their own issues and tend to shift blame onto others. Once the financial storm hit and the Federation's financial order collapsed, some individuals, in an attempt to evade responsibility, would claim that certain individuals had already predicted the disaster. However, those capable of preventing the disaster had chosen to turn a blind eye.
This might elevate certain individuals' fame but would also make them detested by those hurt by their words.
Lynch frowned slightly. "I think I understand..."
Ferrall nodded. "Everyone here today is essentially here for that aide close to the governor. You better go over and say a few flattering words. You're younger than the others, so he'll definitely remember you."
Upon careful consideration, Lynch realized Ferrall was right. He patted Ferrall's arm and walked to the edge of the crowd, pretending to be full of curiosity as he watched the governor's aide converse with the crowd.
He refrained from speaking immediately, waiting for the right moment. However, his intentions were interrupted when the mayor spotted him and approached.
"Lynch..."
Lynch turned at the sound, his face displaying a hint of surprise as he respectfully bowed. "Mr. Mayor..."
The exchange between them caught the attention of those who around Lynch. Conversations halted, and the crowd willingly cleared a path, allowing their central figures to see the mayor and Lynch standing between them.
The mayor friendly patted Lynch's shoulder, then glanced at the governor's aide with a smile. "This is Lynch, the outstanding young man I mentioned during our last conference call."
Please vote for this novel at /series/blackstone-code/There are advance chapters available nowAccess will be granted 24 hours after the donationTier 1: 7 Advance chapters Link
Link
Please do not delete thisHow to find a list of chaptersPlease find the chapter label next to your favorite translator's name, and click the label.