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Chapter 190: Evaporation
"This is Mr. Lynch..."
Manson entered the room with a man carrying a briefcase. The grand setting of the Bupayne Grand Hotel suite lent an air of respect to everyone who entered.
Perhaps it was because Lynch could still produce cash, or maybe it was due to the hotel itself, the man who arrived was dressed in a very high-end suit, although it seemed it had not been meticulously cared for in some time.
High-quality clothes required careful maintenance, sometimes even requiring specialized hand treatment. These clothes were not more resilient than infants; they needed proper storage conditions, including appropriate temperature and humidity.
The man sat down cautiously, wearing a somewhat ingratiating smile, afraid of displeasing Lynch. He then placed his briefcase on the coffee table between them and opened it.
Inside were neatly arranged war bonds. When the briefcase opened, it even emitted a "fragrance" similar to that of banknotes—a scent from the special dyes used.
Manson, standing to the side, introduced, "A total of 1.2 million in bonds, at 3.7% of face value..."
These bonds ranged from the largest denominations of one hundred bucks to the smallest of five bucks. The larger denominations were primarily for businesses, while the smaller ones were for the general public.
But regardless of whether they were for businesses or individuals, they ultimately lost their original value.
Lynch casually picked up a stack. This wasn't his first time handling this kind of bond, but he enjoyed the unique feeling they gave him.
In his previous world, money had become just a number, much like in the science fiction here. People no longer needed to carry physical cash, as transactions were managed by sophisticated technological systems that seamlessly updated account balances. In the latter part of Lynch's life in that world, he hadn't touched cash and had even forgotten what it felt like to hold money.
At this moment, the stack of bonds in his hand gave him a sense of satisfaction, security, and fulfillment he hadn't experienced before.
The thick texture and the embossed printing made them feel very similar to real money. The manufacturing process for bonds and currency was essentially the same, with similar anti-counterfeiting methods.
These bonds were about twenty centimeters long and fifteen centimeters wide, looking as exquisite as works of art.
After flipping through a few pages, he casually threw them back and looked at Vera beside him.
Vera quickly calculated the amount Lynch needed to pay and wrote it on his transfer check. After Lynch signed it, she placed it on the table and pushed it over to him.
The person across the table had a strange expression after seeing the check, a look of relief, perhaps. After all, since the value of these bonds was plummeting, everyone was worried they would turn into worthless paper.
But there was also some discomfort. He had spent a lot of money buying these bonds, and if he weren't in such dire financial straits, he wouldn't have sold them. Deep down, he still believed there was a chance these bonds might recover.
There wasn't much conversation between them. After a handshake with Lynch, Manson escorted the man out.
Lynch, meanwhile, set the bonds aside and asked, "How much money do we have left?"
Vera checked her notebook and gave a precise answer, "One million seven hundred eighty-four thousand five hundred twenty-five bucks."
Lynch sat back on the sofa, complaining, "It's slower than I expected. I thought it would be faster."
Vera didn't respond. She wasn't sure how to. Sometimes, Lynch's words weren't meant for others but for himself, something Vera had only recently discovered.
Only by spending time together could one discover things that usually went unnoticed. She found this intriguing, as it was rare for someone to interject a conversation with a remark meant only for themselves, which would make it difficult to continue the discussion.
Initially, she didn't know if or how she should respond, but over the past few days, she had figured it out.
Moments later, Manson returned after sending off his client, ready to collect his fee.
No one in this world would do things for others without reason. Every action had some driving force, some more apparent than others.
Manson's motivation to help Lynch wasn't about Joegleman; it was about the money in Lynch's pocket.
According to their agreement, Manson would receive 2% of the cash transaction amount as his brokerage fee. For this transaction, the amount was forty-four thousand four hundred bucks, so he would earn eight hundred eighty-eight bucks.
Flicking the freshly issued check, Manson felt very satisfied with Lynch’s straightforwardness. Unlike some other employers who might try to deduct a little, such as rounding down the amount, Lynch wouldn’t even round off a single buck or a few cents. He was a meticulous person, which made Manson feel very reassured.
Lynch pointed to the sofa opposite him, and Manson sat down after putting away the check. "Our acquisition pace is too slow right now," he said. "I think it's time to accelerate this process. I can't stay here for too long."
Manson frowned slightly, "There are relatively few people holding large amounts of bonds, and some people are unwilling to sell at our prices."
Such people, the major holders, wouldn't sell unless they had an urgent need for cash.
Lynch nodded noncommittally, proposing another approach, "Maybe we can acquire these bonds from ordinary bondholders."
Manson's brows furrowed slightly. Acquiring bonds from retail holders was indeed effective since they were the main force compared to the few major holders in the market.
"But dealing with scattered bonds will bring us a lot of trouble. We might not have time to rest all day."
Lynch smiled at Manson, "3.8%. I don't care how much you buy them for, I'll buy them back from you at 3.8%. Deal?"
Initially, Manson had told Lynch that specifying a price for war bonds might exceed his initial estimate. But no one had expected that the situation would turn out much better, or worse, than they had initially thought.
Some international news outlets had begun reporting the Baylor Federation's financial disaster. The Federal Industrial Index had halved in just four days and was still falling with no bottom in sight.
All stocks were plummeting, and the entire federal financial market had lost over a hundred billion bucks. Last year, the Baylor Federation's GDP was just one hundred eighty-seven billion bucks. This financial catastrophe could be described as wiping out most of the wealth created in the past year.
This prompted some who were still hesitant to start selling their bonds, but the market was volatile.
When the situation turned unfavorable, prices were sure to be suppressed, or even without deliberate suppression, those in urgent need of cash would start fluctuating prices.
Besides the financial market issues, some newspapers began deeper reporting on the unprecedented financial tsunami, directly blaming the current ruling party and the presidential cabinet.
They even criticized that this financial disaster had already been predicted back in July, but the diplomatic incompetence of the President's cabinet left people completely helpless as they watched it unfold.
There was even talk that the Baylor Federation might be affected in the next large-scale war and could no longer maintain a neutral stance.
With political turmoil, a financial tsunami, and struggles in the international community, federal bondholders saw their bonds becoming increasingly worthless.
Manson thought for a moment. If he acquired the bond himself, he could lower the price even further. This idea excited him. After all, money, or rather wealth, was the primary motivation for people's work and life.
"I can try, but I can't guarantee it'll be quick..."
After shaking hands, Manson didn't leave immediately but brought up another matter, "Lynch, you know I have many friends here. Some of my work can't escape everyone's notice."
After Lynch nodded, Manson continued, "Some people noticed I've been working for you recently. They proposed a gathering of all buyers, partly to avoid potential conflicts and also to prepare for some things."
Manson had a rough idea of Lynch's intentions, as did most others buying bonds amid the downturn. Since everyone had the same goal, why not sit down and talk? There might be future cooperation opportunities.
They didn't know Lynch, and directly inviting him would seem too abrupt, so they entrusted Manson with the task.
Lynch had no reason to refuse. As these people thought, why not join forces when their goals aligned?
Managing such a large project required more than just casual effort; it needed many people working together.
After Lynch agreed, Manson left to start preparing funds to buy bonds from retail holders. In fact, this task would be easier than he imagined.
The reason was simple: those who could use hundreds of thousands in cash to buy millions in bonds could sell off some assets to keep themselves afloat for a while longer.
But those who spent thousands or tens of thousands to buy bonds often had no way out.
Even if it was a hundred bucks, it could be a lifeline for these people.
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