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Chapter 84: Journalists and Advisor
Look forward to it, this was Lynch's response to Mr. Fox. He didn't directly convince Mr. Fox with words; it was a good business, and he knew how to make money for himself.
People are always like this—before reality hits them, before the harsh reality punches them in the face, they never believe that reality hitting them could be so painful.
By the way, reality is not a person's name.
Instead of using words to create a pale disguise of his intentions, not letting them harbor various thoughts and expectations, Lynch chose to wait for the results.
Anyway, there wasn't much time left.
On Friday morning, around ten o'clock, Lynch hosted journalists in a coffee shop outside the warehouse district. Not everyone working in the warehouse district wore blue overalls; some people with a bit of financial background also worked there. Warehouses were complex places; they could store trash, worthless things, as well as valuable items.
This diversity shaped the diversity of the warehouse staff. Therefore, it was not that strange to see someone passing the time with coffee and snacks near the warehouses.
This time, Lynch invited six local newspapers from Sabin City, including one that specialized in publishing photos of unfortunate girls. Though solicitation was considered illegal business in Sabin City, publishing these photos, articles, and attaching personal information did not violate the relevant laws and regulations of Sabin City, the Federation, and the publishing industry.
In addition to local newspapers, there were reporters from the state capital and mainstream media from other cities. Lynch had grand ambitions; he wanted to establish not just a second-hand trade company in Sabin City but expand his business to the entire state and even beyond. Hence, the publicity for the first trading event was crucial.
When people see news that interested them in the newspapers, they would expect the trading event to take place locally or at least consider attending to see if it lived up to the positive descriptions in the newspapers. If all they saw was criticism, they may lose interest, and even if the event was local, they may not intend to participate.
First impressions were crucial, and that was why Lynch actively contacted these media outlets. He hoped they would provide him with positive coverage.
Perhaps because Lynch reimbursed their expenses and provided a daily subsidy of thirty bucks, these journalists had a good impression of him. Apart from the money, Lynch also bought advertising space in their respective newspapers, which was the main reason the newspapers were willing to send reporters.
In short, Lynch was a big sponsor, and that had become the first impression for his journalist friends. This time was like a small personal interview; later, they would go into the warehouse district to shoot scenes before, during, and after the trading event.
These photos would be arranged together to create a strong contrast and visual impact. Even without doing so, readers could feel Lynch's seriousness about the matter; he wasn't just fooling around.
"Mr. Lynch, how do you define the second-hand goods trading event you are organizing?" asked a reporter from the capital, representing the highest-selling newspaper in the state.
Every region had such newspapers, bearing significant responsibilities, guiding public opinion, spreading positive energy, and overseeing various aspects of society.
This question seemed a bit hollow at first glance, but it was crucial. She was asking about Lynch's stance or whether there might be some political motives involved.
This female reporter wore glasses, her expression a bit stern. As soon as she spoke, others prepared to take notes.
They were all peers, well aware of the interview process. Journalists always saw themselves as the vanguard of social justice, impartially weighing individuals, but in reality, their positions were already skewed, at least according to the size of the newspapers they worked for, speaking in order of their status in the industry.
These things were only in Lynch's mind. Without much thought, he answered with a sunny smile, "Stimulating the idle market, saving resources for society, avoiding unnecessary waste, and providing more job opportunities for society. That's what I'm doing..."
Handling these journalists was like playing to Lynch.
Normally some questions that might be embarrassing or attacking could make the interviewee very uncomfortable. This was also a fact, but compared to the constant questioning and even interrogation during the entry into the small cell, these journalists were like children.
"He was surrounded by numerous journalists, chatting away without any stage fright. With his charm, he conquered everyone!" This was an annotation made by a journalist for a photo he took. In the photo, people surrounded Lynch, earnestly recording his words, and his confident and sunny face almost seemed to emit light.
Even in newspapers where the photos were not very clear, people seemed to feel the special aura emanating from Lynch.
This photo later became the most important moment in this journalist's career. Life, at times, unfolded in mysterious ways. One needed not necessarily immerse oneself directly into certain affairs; being a mere observer could suffice to attain fame.
He might not know what this photo represented in the future. At this moment, after taking the photo, he sat back at his seat and started recording the interview.
Lynch's confidence, humor, occasional sharpness in his words, and self-deprecation made him a popular figure. There were rarely interviews where everyone laughed, but this time, people laughed frequently, even the serious and stern female reporter laughed several times.
After a successful conclusion to the interview, Lynch surprised them with a gift.
In the world Lynch came from, this would be called a bribe, but in the Baylor Federation, where simplicity prevailed, journalists who considered themselves representatives of fairness and justice weren't accustomed to such "customs," and they were even a bit bewildered.
"Just some local specialties and a bit of travel expense. It would greatly distress me to see you refuse."
His warmth and sincerity moved everyone, and in the end, they accepted this small gift. Each person carried a sense of guilt and an indescribable feeling.
However, after they went back, each one of them chose to do the same thing—modify some already finalized drafts.
After bidding farewell to these journalist friends, Lynch couldn't help but sigh. It was indeed a good era.
In another world, because the travel expenses weren't enough, there were incidents of reporters directly throwing things on the conference site.
He liked this world.
In the afternoon, someone Lynch didn't expect found him. The guy called himself Ferrall and claimed to be one of Sabin City Mayor's advisors.
He was a man who appeared to be in his thirties, about five feet seven inches tall, which was considered tall in this era. His hair was a bit sparse, and his receding hairline was severe.
"Mr. Lynch, I noticed this thing..." He placed a promotional flyer on the desk and pushed it towards Lynch.
Lynch picked it up and looked at it. It was a promotional flyer he had printed, and he asked with some confusion, "Okay, anything wrong with it?"
Ferrall smiled confidently, but his confidence was different from Lynch's. Ferrall's confidence was a condescending one, tinged with contempt, not the self-assuredness that came from inner affirmation.
His confidence stemmed from the power he directly and indirectly held.
"I noticed you'll be holding a... second-hand goods trading auction in the warehouse district tomorrow afternoon," he said, looking at the flyer and reading, "...is that correct?"
Lynch nodded, "Yes."
Ferrall leaned back, fingers interlocked, elbows pressing on the chair's armrests, and he sneered, "You may not be able to hold it as scheduled."
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