Blackstone Code-Chapter 678: Cutting the Tail

The situation in the Amellia was becoming increasingly volatile. Governor Sedel felt it keenly—nothing had visibly happened, yet an intense tension had suddenly gripped Amellia, like storm clouds looming ever closer, weighing heavily on people’s hearts.

The bright lights in the room flickered a few times before plunging into darkness. Soon after, the governor’s residence switched to its backup power supply, restoring light.

Standing by the window, watching the setting sun, Governor Sedel’s expression grew more somber.

“Sir, the power plant was attacked. The blackout was caused by that,” the butler reported truthfully from the doorway.

The power plant had been attacked again. The newly repaired generators were destroyed, plunging the city back into darkness.

It was the second attack this month. Every time the generators were fixed, they were quickly sabotaged again. This wasn’t unique to Zhuris—similar incidents were occurring elsewhere.

Blackstone Security, under contract with the Gephra Empire, had suspended all anti-bandit operations, citing the “inability of local governments to provide effective support” as their reason.

It sounded absurd, but they had indeed stopped all operations over that excuse.

The anti-government militants were emboldened. With repeated bombings of power stations, they started invading cities under the cover of darkness without restraint.

The Gephran military had no effective countermeasures. The power plants were isolated outside the cities, and many rebels had relatives within the city. If heavy troops were stationed at the power plants, the imperial districts would become vulnerable to rebel attacks.

Protect one, lose the other—there was no perfect solution.

In the end, the governor chose to prioritize defending the imperial districts. After all, they were the last symbol of Gephran dignity in the region. If even one or two imperial districts fell, many future matters would become extremely difficult.

An invader that could be crushed.

That perception might even stir thoughts among the defeated nations. They might not declare war directly, but they could start sending troops.

So the imperial districts had to remain secure. That decision left Amellia in darkness for a full month.

“This is Lynch’s doing…” Governor Sedel said grimly. He contacted some Allied nations with strong ground forces, hoping they’d send troops in support out of alliance loyalty.

He no longer cared about hiding the fact that the Gephran ground forces were useless. If he lost the region just to maintain that illusion, that would be the real disaster.

What he didn’t expect was that a sudden military exercise announcement back home derailed his reinforcement plans.

Those countries said they were willing to help Sedel stabilize control in Amellia—but only after the exercises, and ideally with the Federation’s consent.

Not because the Federation had grown so strong, but because its rearmament and expansion had unsettled everyone.

When someone who’s always been seen as weak suddenly starts arming themselves, it’s terrifying. Sending troops near the Federation’s doorstep now seemed unwise—wasn’t it better to ask for permission first?

Hadn’t the Federation just announced 31 military reforms and harshly warned “a handful of malicious actors” not to use force to interfere with their foreign trade?

Their tone had changed. They weren’t like before—back then, even a fart from abroad would send the entire Federation, from president to vagrant, into panic.

Now they were different. They were showing their claws. And that was terrifying.

With no reinforcements, and Soren unable to break the stalemate on the Federation front, the Merrick Consortium had already lost tens of millions without achieving anything. They were unlikely to continue with this contract.

And all of this had changed because of one man—Lynch.

“Get me Lynch,” Governor Sedel said through gritted teeth.

Now was not the time to act tough. First, stabilize the regime. As for revenge, there’d be plenty of time—both for him and for the Empire.

The butler returned shortly after, his face expressionless. “Sir, Lynch refused to speak with you.”

Outside the governor’s residence, two imperial businessmen walking past shrank their necks. One whispered to the other, “The governor’s smashing things again.”

Of course Lynch had no time to chat—he was enjoying himself: fine wine, beautiful women. The ultimate purpose of making money was indulgence.

Anyone who says they don’t earn money for pleasure, or that money makes them miserable, is either lying or insane.

Inside the room, people were lost in debauchery, forgetting time, place, and self—just souls addicted to twisted socializing.

“We’ve made several million,” said Lime excitedly. He was tipsy. Lynch had instructed him to short companies under the Merrick Consortium, and the strategy was paying off.

He leaned in and whispered, “If this continues for a few more days, we might break ten million in profits.”

Lynch showed no excitement. That amount barely moved him anymore. Since confirming with the Gephran emperor that the empire would honor his bonds, his wealth had grown to the point where millions meant little.

He took a sip of wine and said calmly, “Sell everything tomorrow.”

Lime froze. “Sorry, boss—did you say sell everything?” He hesitated. “People are still dumping shares. The downtrend will last at least two more days. There’s still plenty of profit left.”

Lynch didn’t agree or disagree. He just glanced at him. “You can keep holding yours. But sell my part.”

Another celebration began. In Eminence, the political and financial hub, such events were common. Brokerage firms and financiers would often throw lavish parties after a big win.

Part of it was to flaunt success and stir envy. Another part was to attract potential clients.

Anyone who wanted to stay in this game had to follow the rules—no exceptions.

Seeing Lime’s confusion, Lynch didn’t explain. Sometimes people needed to fall to learn how to avoid falling again.

He smiled, raised his glass, and went out to mingle.

Early the next morning, Lime sold off Lynch’s holdings. But when faced with his own account, he hesitated.

That was one or two million in profit. If he waited just two more days, until the market behavior matched his models, it would be the ideal exit point.

So he decided to wait.

At that very moment, the Merrick Consortium convened its board of directors for an emergency meeting.

“The military refused us,” the chairman said bluntly. He sounded firm as his gaze swept over the shareholders, finally landing on Mr. Wadrick.

Their eyes met—for two or three seconds—then quickly looked away.“They refused to provide short-term escort on the grounds that they’re preparing for the West Amellia joint military exercise. We…” the chairman paused mid-sentence when he noticed a small coin in the center of the table.

It was so small, and the environment so particular, that the cleaning staff must have overlooked it. The sight of that coin irritated him. It reminded him of Mr. Wadrick’s veiled provocations toward the board.

That slight pause did not go unnoticed by many in the room.

“If we continue fulfilling the contract, we might face the same issues we encountered before. But we might also come through unscathed.

“The world’s attention is now locked on the West Amellia joint military exercise. Maybe our invisible opponent won’t make another move so easily.”

“But this isn’t a decision I—or any one person—can make alone. It affects future strategic shifts for several consortia. We need to vote.”

“Vote for or against. The outcome will determine whether we proceed with the contract.” 𝘧𝓇ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝘣𝓃ℴ𝓋𝑒𝑙.𝑐𝘰𝑚

“Begin.”

Staff handed out envelopes and voting cards to everyone.

To protect shareholder privacy, the cards were pressure-sensitive.

Pressing the circle next to Approve would release blue dye in the card’s middle layer. Pressing the one next to Reject would release red dye instead.

The final color would appear on the card after a short time. Until then, everyone could seal theirs in an envelope, ensuring complete confidentiality.

Mr. Wadrick received his card, pressed the dye pouch, sealed it in an envelope, and handed it to the staff.

Soon, the votes were tallied. The board ultimately decided to abandon the highly risky plan. They had already stumbled twice on this project—there would not be a third time.

When the result was announced, the board chairmen remained calm, as if they had anticipated it all along.

Capital never possesses the trait of holding the line. The moment it feels pain—real pain, like a hemorrhoid—it severs ties without hesitation.

They aren’t willing to gamble on a maybe.

At the same time, they can afford to lose.

As for the contract with Soren, they could always take it to court.