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Chapter 151: Donations and Food Stamps
The fact that Mark represented the mayor in acquiring shares of the Interstellar Trading Company might be hard for some ordinary people to understand, but it was actually quite normal. After all, there were many things that the general populace might not even be aware of.
Some joked that every time there was a general election in the Baylor Federation, a new consortium would be born in the last second of the election. The Baylor Federation had a history of over three hundred years since its founding and had welcomed fifty-two presidents.
Why fifty-two? Because some presidents had met untimely ends—falling and seriously injuring themselves while going downstairs, being blown into the sea while fishing, or other such incidents...
In any case, there were always some people who were less fortunate. But that was normal; that was life, wasn't it?
Beside these unlucky presidents, almost every other president had had the shadow of a consortium behind them. Take, for example, the well-known "Jerry & Dace," a consortium that emerged because of a president.
This consortium had supported three politicians in achieving their moments of glory on the federal stage. And it was because they had helped three presidents win the elections, "Jerry & Dace" had never encountered trouble in over a hundred years.
No one knew when they would select the next president for the federation, who would also belong to their group.
Oh, by the way, those three presidents were respectively the son, grandson, and great-grandson of the founders of "Jerry & Dace" – they were all family.
Political power and capital power could sometimes be like water and fire, but other times they were indistinguishable. This was the Baylor Federation, a land of sweet freedom.
From this perspective, it was not so shocking that the mayor had shares in the Interstellar Trading Company, especially since it was his nephew Mark who executed the transaction. Lynch believed that if any issues arose, Mark would immediately step forward to apologize to the public, and his uncle, the mayor, would also not easily forgive anyone who broke the law and the rules, even if that person were his nephew.
If nothing terrible happened and the Interstellar Trading Company continued to profit appropriately, Lynch and his company might become part of a consortium. Of course, the mayor cannot become president, but the core focus would be his superiors.
Lynch, no longer in his cynical years, did not feel offended by this. Instead, he saw it as a good thing. With Mark as a shareholder, tasks that were difficult for Lynch could be handled by Mark.
No one was better suited for this role. Many would think Mark represented the mayor, so even if there were troubles, they should not bother Mark because bothering Mark meant bothering the mayor. But Lynch did not think this way.
When everyone knew Mark represented the mayor, Mark's presence would signal the mayor's stance. He didn't even need to say anything—just standing beside Lynch was enough.
Skipping over this minor matter, Lynch met with the mayor the next day at a charity gala. Strictly speaking, it was indeed a charity event, with almost all the local social elites of Sabin City in attendance.
The number of attendees was not too large, a few hundred people. The upper class in a city of 800,000 could only accommodate these few hundred. About half to one-third of these attendees were there because their partners had access, lacking the standing themselves, making the actual number of the upper class even smaller.
Lynch sat towards the back. His age, business, and wealth were not enough to place him in the most conspicuous position in the front row. Sitting in the back had its advantages, allowing him to observe the subtle actions of the elegantly dressed men and women in front.
The theme of the charity gala was to help some unemployed people through their current difficulties. The unemployment rate in Sabin City had reached a terrifying 16%, and there were already reports of someone starving to death.
This was not a good sign. The city hall, or rather the mayor, used his influence to suppress this news, but he also realized that the situation had reached a point where political forces needed to be mobilized.
In fact, people starved to death every year. Homeless people died from heat in the summer, froze to death in the winter, and occasionally starved to death on the street. This was a normal occurrence.
A few years ago, there was even a horrific incident where homeless people attacked wild dogs, only to be overwhelmed and eaten by the dogs. This incident sparked a brief societal debate, but after the debate, people no longer paid attention to this group.
In interviews, many people expressed the same view: homeless people had hands and feet and could work to support themselves. Even scavenging could provide a sufficient livelihood. But they chose to beg, so they were not worthy of sympathy.
However, this time the person who starved to death was not a homeless person but an unemployed, elderly man who lived on his own.
He was not really that old, just over fifty and not yet at retirement age. He originally had a job but lost it four months ago. He wanted to work but couldn't find a job and starved to death in his bed after exhausting his savings.
If not for the neighbors being affected by the stench, it might have taken much longer to discover this. Thus, the mayor realized that immediate action was necessary.
The mayor stood at the podium and briefly mentioned this news with a heavy tone. The social elites below were also shocked, and some ladies even shed sorrowful tears.
Some were genuinely shocked, while others were not truly saddened.
For these elites, it was hard to imagine that an ordinary person could starve to death. The current situation was indeed worse than previous years, but not to such an extent, right?
But the fact remains: many people were facing hunger and hardship and need help.
In the past three hundred years, the Baylor Federation had faced similar situations and developed effective measures to solve these problems. Currently, this involved distributing food and supply stamps.
Initially, people were directly given money, but it was soon discovered that some people collected the aid fraudulently, and some gambled, or squandered the money, then reapplied for aid. Thus, monetary aid was replaced with food and supply stamps.
The donated funds from the elites would be used to purchase large quantities of food and essential items, which needy families could then claim.
This wouldn't make them wealthy but would prevent them from starving, which was the most the Baylor Federation could currently do: try to keep more people from starving.
The generous donations from the wealthy were not necessarily out of true generosity. Instead, the donation amounts could be deducted from their taxes, "reimbursing" each kind donor.
These deductions were usually full, possibly even exceeding the donation amount, so this wasn't a loss-making affair. They might even make a bit of money, which was why top wealthy individuals were willing to do charity. They had to pay a lot of taxes, so any reduction was a victory.
However, the tax deductions for charitable donations had a limit. The amount to donate was not decided by the wealthy themselves. Before attending the charity gala, their accountants would tell them the optimal amount to donate.
Everyone appeared to be genuinely caring for those in need, generously donating. Lynch also donated 100,000, drawing many curious glances towards him.
Maybe Lynch's performance made him seem like a "plant." Soon, others started a second round of donations, raising their contributions from a few thousand or ten thousand to at least thirty to fifty thousand, with some going up to one or two hundred thousand. They were unsure if this was the mayor's intention.
But even a slight possibility meant they couldn't take any risks.
By the end of the charity gala, the mayor had raised nearly fifteen million bucks in donations. This significantly alleviated part of the problem. In the mayor's closing remarks, he said that more than 200,000 people in Sabin City suffering from hunger would be fed due to everyone's kindness and generosity.
After the event, the mayor prepared to leave, having other matters to attend to. The city's problems had left him overwhelmed. Even Mark's lucrative deal hadn't brought much joy to his face.
Money could satisfy material needs, but the mayor yearned for power.
However, he still took half a minute to speak with Lynch, placing him last. "I heard from Mark that he likes you a lot?"
They shook hands and talked, with others not approaching out of social etiquette.
Lynch nodded, "I like Mark too. He's a great guy..." His words seemed unfinished, making the mayor curious and urging him to speak quickly, as he had a small closed-door meeting next.
Lynch then completed his sentence, "Is it too late for me to start a food factory now?"
The mayor was taken aback for a moment, then couldn't help but laugh. He thought Lynch would talk about Mark or the deal last night, but instead, Lynch was thinking about the fifteen million bucks in donations.
A young man with unique insights and ideas, the mayor thought, shaking his head. "Mark probably didn't tell you, but he already has a food factory..." he hinted, "I have high hopes for you two. You will become good friends."
Lynch pursed his lips, "That's really sad. As for me and Mark..." He smiled, "I also believe we can become good friends."
The mayor patted his hand, said no more, and left, disappointing those who hadn't had a chance to speak with him. However, they quickly shifted their attention to Lynch, curious about his relationship with the mayor and why he had been given the last bit of time.
Some attendees tried to approach Lynch, who naturally welcomed them and seamlessly blended into the post-charity gala cocktail party.
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