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Chapter 3: It's Not Your Fault
A few minutes later, Mr. Fox's assistant brought in two newspapers, one dated four months ago and the other from this week.
Companies like Mr. Fox's financial firm were highly concerned about national and international financial trends. Dealing with money daily, they understood the significance of these trends.
Additionally, they closely monitored societal changes such as employment rates, unemployment, and public safety.
If unemployment rates continued to rise, they would decrease interest rates while reducing large loans to minimize risks, making their business more appealing.
When the country's economy visibly improved, they would increase interest rates and encourage people to borrow more because they could afford to pay back.
Every day, Mr. Fox's assistant would read numerous newspapers to analyze upcoming national situations, determining whether to prematurely terminate certain businesses or feign ignorance about them.
This was not a straightforward business. Those who couldn't grasp it found it challenging to sustain. Only individuals like Mr. Fox could manage it long-term.
This was why he spent a fortune hiring a university graduate to assist him. He viewed it as a career, not a quick money-making scheme.
After flipping through the newspaper for about ten minutes, Lynch, undisturbed by Mr. Fox, was served coffee and cigarettes.
He harbored a faint expectation. This ordinary man called Lynch would surely surprise him.
This wasn't baseless speculation; it was his observation.
An ordinary person like Lynch couldn't remain calm when being invited by a man like him, let alone maintain eye contact while he revealed his murderous intentions.
He wasn't an ordinary child—considering Mr. Fox's age, Lynch was indeed just a child; he was only twenty.
Several minutes later, Lynch drew a few lines with his pen and then placed both newspapers in front of Mr. Fox. "I've marked the sections you need to read so that you can see them more clearly."
Mr. Fox and his assistant earnestly perused the papers but found no clues after several readings. They only contained real estate agency information, and they hadn't discovered anything significant.
Mr. Fox seemed puzzled. "I don't know what these represent or if they have any special meaning."
Lynch remained patient. Faced with an exceptional client and money in his pocket, anyone needing money could be patient.
He approached Mr. Fox. His assistant tried to stop him but was stopped by Mr. Fox, signaling Lynch had gained a measure of trust.
If he could fulfill what he'd said earlier, that trust would last a long time.
"This newspaper provides information on the leasing of two street-front apartments. The rent for this one is...," Lynch pointed to the section he had marked but didn't continue.
Mr. Fox instinctively replied, "One hundred and thirty-five bucks."
Lynch nodded in agreement. "Correct, one hundred and thirty-five bucks. Let's disregard everything else and look at the neighboring apartment's price..."
Mr. Fox cooperatively shifted his gaze to the information Lynch had marked on the other newspaper, continuing, "One hundred and seventy-two bucks!"
"These two apartments are on opposite sides of the street, not more than a hundred meters apart. What do you notice from these price changes, Mr. Fox?"
After pondering for a moment, Mr. Fox began to seriously consider and said, "The monthly rent increased by thirty-seven bucks!"
In Lynch's past mature and successful cases, he always believed in involving participants more deeply. It would save time and avoid problems people hadn't even considered themselves.
People would convince themselves and firmly believe their conclusions were correct, especially in mathematical problems.
Before explicitly stating an answer to some mathematical problems, each person would firmly believe their answer was correct and others' were wrong.
Through a simple "mathematical formula," Mr. Fox underwent a profound engagement process. This feeling led him to a false sense of security, a façade he had created for himself.
He wouldn't think Lynch was a scammer because Lynch didn't tell him this; Mr. Fox concluded it through his clever thinking and believed in his conclusion.
"The increase in rent implies that buying these properties requires more money. In the past four months...," Lynch paused. "No, actually, every day, it's been increasing. It's a gradual change that you might not notice, but it's indeed changing. Do you agree, Mr. Fox?"
Mr. Fox nodded. "So, what does this have to do with our previous business?"
"Of course, Mr. Fox. These houses are there. They don't change over time, such as gaining a few bricks or losing some tiles."
"Their appearance upon completion remains the same, but their price has changed. What does it imply?"
Without waiting for Mr. Fox to ponder, Lynch provided the answer, as Mr. Fox wouldn't arrive at it himself.
What he wanted to do was to guide people towards the corners he needed them to discover at the right moment, rather than encouraging them to diverge their thinking!
"If an item's value hasn't changed, but there's a change in 'payment,' it means the value represented by the currency used has changed."
"In other words, over the past four months, our currency...," Lynch took out a coin from his pocket and held it between his thumb and forefinger.
He lightly flicked it, creating a slightly discreet but audible metallic vibration that attracted everyone's attention—their gazes, Mr. Fox's, his assistant's, and the nearby bodyguard's, all focused on the coin that was being tossed into the air.
Confidently, Lynch stated, "It's been depreciating, roughly between twenty-two to twenty-five percent, Mr. Fox."
Mr. Fox's attention shifted from the five-cent coin lying motionless on the newspaper, and he began to contemplate Lynch's words seriously, then glanced at his assistant.
The assistant felt embarrassed. He wasn't a finance major but a management graduate. If it weren’t for Mr. Fox's higher pay and the fact that Mr. Fox was his father, he wouldn't have appeared here.
He felt Lynch's words didn't quite add up, yet he couldn't find any obvious flaws. Lynch continued with his examples, incorporating the concepts of "depreciation" and "currency as a commodity."
He wasn't lying; everything he said was true. His examples were flawless, even mentioning how ten years ago, people could buy a newspaper for five cents, but now it required fifty cents.
The newspaper was still the same—a paper with ink—and its production process hadn't changed significantly. It wasn't that the newspaper became expensive; it was that the money had depreciated.
As Mr. Fox slowly comprehended, he felt a sense of dread. He adjusted his sitting position slightly and said with reluctance, “But our interest rates are very high, and some of them are compounded!”
He wanted to provide himself with a sense of security. However, Lynch shattered this fragile sense of security in a few seconds with his laughter.
"I understand, Mr. Fox. The problem is that the currency depreciating isn't those easily available and presented ones; it's all your assets!"
"All your assets are depreciating at a rate of five percent per month, and this is a also form of 'compound interest.' If you don't quickly transfer all your money to the Federal Tax Bureau to complete the final procedures..."
Lynch returned to his chair opposite the table, shrugged, and spread his hands. "Your so-called proud wealth may not even be worth a damn in a few years!"
"So do you still care about that insignificant ten percent now?"
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