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Chapter 189: Not Alone
The shyness of women at different stages of life could give people different impressions.
When they were still little girls, their shyness could be amusing, and their giggles would often provoke playful opposition.
As teenagers, the blush on their faces could make boys’ hearts skip a beat, swiftly transforming into a sweet trickle flowing into their hearts.
Once they reached adulthood, their shyness would become something else entirely, exuding a unique aura and sophistication.
Facing Lynch's gaze, Vera felt her cheeks flush. Before she could figure out how to defuse what she considered an awkward situation, Lynch's hand had already grasped her ankle, startling her slightly.
She even blurted out, "Even my husband has never held my ankle like this!" and immediately wished she hadn't said it.
She had intended to explain it but thought better of it; explanations would often only make things more complicated.
Lynch made no inappropriate moves. He simply observed Vera's ankle, gently pressing the swollen area where the local temperature was noticeably high and blood was rapidly pooling.
He had some ice brought over by a waiter, wrapped it in a napkin, and applied it to her ankle.
The initial contact of the ice with her skin might have felt uncomfortable, but soon the constricted capillaries eased the throbbing pain, bringing Vera relief.
Looking at Lynch sitting beside her, Vera sensed a terrifying sensation creeping within her. She quickly quelled the thought and found a topic to focus on, "It looks like I won't be able to go anywhere else with you for the next few days."
Many people would experience spraining their ankles, especially women.
When they wore high heels for the first time, they would inevitably twist their ankle a few times. After each twist, they would spend anywhere from two or three days to a week in bed.
If they needed to move, a walking aid, such as a crutch, would be useful.
Lynch comforted her with a smile. Their work would continue at the Bupayne Grand Hotel for now.
The situation in Bupayne was becoming a bit chaotic. Lynch had noticed a column of smoke to the west earlier, though it had since dissipated, indicating the streets were becoming dangerous.
Living in an affluent area didn't necessarily mean everyone was wealthy. Bupayne had its share of poor people, and they could be more desperate than their counterparts elsewhere.
Poor people in developed cities faced heavier life pressures. While governments and societies usually provided some relief to help them barely get by, when these aids failed, the stark wealth gap would fuel class hatred, sometimes pushing them over the edge.
Therefore, appearing on the streets without caution was not wise. The Bupayne Grand Hotel had reliable security, and the six major banks had branches here, handling foreign currency exchanges and everyday banking needs.
Upon hearing Lynch's explanation, Vera breathed a sigh of relief. She had been worried her condition might affect Lynch's work.
Later, Lynch half-carried Vera into a car, supporting her as they headed straight back to the hotel.
After settling Vera in, Lynch called Joegleman. Joegleman was delighted to hear from Lynch, "I thought you'd forgotten about your old friend."
"Friends don't disappear with the passage of time; those who disappear were never friends in the first place," Lynch replied, mindful of Joegleman's current situation.
Joegleman's collaboration with Lynch had swiftly earned him performance bonuses and a nomination for local bank manager. This had left many feeling resentful.
The internal dynamics of a bank were like a small society. Joegleman had made some achievements, but jealousy and discontent brewed among colleagues and headquarters staff. There were even reports alleging him of misconduct.
Faced with this situation, GoldenExchange Bank's headquarters couldn't ignore it. They officially sent an investigation team to look into these matters and then restricted his signing authority. Although his position remained unchanged, his power was essentially stripped away.
Documents had to be reviewed by a new assistant before reaching Joegleman, effectively stalling processes. Joegleman's standing plummeted overnight; colleagues who used to greet him casually and even businessmen and capitalists suddenly disappeared.
He felt distraught. Thus, Lynch's call brought him some joy—it affirmed his worth.
"You must need my help with something. Go ahead, speak up, while I haven't completely become a benchwarmer yet..." Joegleman used to find such requests annoying, but now, he craved them.
In just a month, too many things had changed.
Lynch chuckled. He also understood the situation Joegleman was in at the moment, "I need someone well-connected and reliable in finance."
Reliability was key. Joegleman knew it well. After pondering for a moment, he gave Lynch a phone number and a name, "he was my university classmate, and we were in the same fraternity. We've always had a good relationship. He can definitely help you."
In the Baylor Federation, being university and fraternity brothers forged a bond closer than that of blood brothers.
It may seem unbelievable to some, but this was the social culture of the Baylor Federation—how it had been in the past and would continue to be in the future.
After hanging up, Joegleman called his friend, briefing him on the situation. Later, Lynch met this somewhat difficult-to-approach gentleman.
He had a prominent nose and deep-set eyes, making him seem aloof and challenging to connect with initially.
After a brief exchange of pleasantries, when Lynch mentioned there would be a commission after the matter was settled, the seemingly unapproachable man's face lit up with a smile. The appearance of this expression softened his features and made him seem more approachable.
In these unprecedented dark times, nothing moved hearts more than money.
After Lynch explained his requirements, the man called Mr. Manson expressed that there were no issues at all. "I've been facilitating deals between investors and banks for a while now and have good relationships with several organisations. Your requirements shouldn't be difficult for me to fulfill. However, I do have a small question: how many bonds are you looking to acquire and in what manner?"
Manson's attitude prompted Lynch to grasp a key point: he wasn't surprised by Lynch's actions, indicating he might have already dealt with similar requests before.
"Are there others besides me acquiring bonds?" Lynch asked, though he phrased it as a statement.
Manson nodded affirmatively, "There have always been people acquiring them."
Lynch didn't foolishly ask what these people were acquiring bonds for. They were either thinking the same way as him or had some other creative idea.
His advantage lay in his firm grasp of global trends, akin to how people in this world still believed that airplanes would never become the mainstream mode of transport because those planes could only carry a few people short distances.
But Lynch knew that in the future, airplanes would undoubtedly become the most crucial mainstream mode of transport. They would not only carry hundreds of people but also fly long distances in one go.
Humans might even go for a spin around a satellite, though people in this world neither knew nor believed it could happen.
There were also some individuals who were naturally endowed with a vision far ahead of their time. These people were often classified as a small group of "achievers" who could foresee the future and were willing to take risks, which was quite normal.
However, this also meant that Lynch's plan to acquire bonds using the price of waste paper was scrapped. "How do they acquire them?"
Manson stroked his chin. "At two and a half to three percent of face value."
Bonds with a face value of 100 were being repurchased at prices ranging from 2.50 to 3. From this, it was evident that those involved in bond repurchase were not minor players; it would take investments of at least several hundred to several thousand, which were not funds that small players could easily come up with. After all, it was cash transactions.
Lynch nodded. "The price seems reasonable. I'll need approximately..." He paused to calculate. "About one million bonds with a face value of 100 each."
He specified the issuing country of the bonds, a conclusion he had reached after thorough research and analysis.
Manson considered for a moment, then nodded. "If specific bonds are requested, there might be a premium, but it won't exceed 5% in the end."
People willing to take risks, like Lynch, would meticulously analyze to find the optimal possibility before committing to it.
Lynch had no objections to this. After a brief discussion of transaction details, Manson began working diligently on Lynch's behalf.
Manson's actions were not easily concealed, and soon people knew that another participant had joined this increasingly frenzied gambling venture, greatly boosting the confidence of all gamblers involved.
The reasoning was simple: the more people entering the game, the greater the likelihood of its success. Meanwhile, Lynch's personal information began circulating among some individuals who needed to understand the background of this new participant.
However, upon seeing his information, they found it hard to accept at first. This young man seemed like a protagonist from a novel; he was too young, so much so that the information seemed implausible and illogical.
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