Blackstone Code-Chapter 687: Recruitment

“What’s the situation with the Gephrans right now?” Lynch turned away from the window and sat back down. The room’s décor matched the Gephran style—mostly chairs with the occasional small sofa. Unlike the Federation, where sofas were everywhere.

It was said the Gephrans even criticized the Federation’s indulgent lifestyle, making sofas one of the many sins of the Federation.

Absurd.

The local who had defected to their side spoke in a low voice, “They’ve been holding frequent gatherings lately. Word is, they’re planning how to compete with Federal merchants.”

The policy shifts in Amellia had already reached the merchants’ ears—a big deal for the Gephran businessmen.

With the nobles no longer interfering in capital affairs, Gephran merchants no longer had to envy the freedom of Federal capital—though that freedom was still confined to the Amellian province.

Still, it was significant progress. If some of the changes in Amellia proved successful, they might eventually influence the mainland’s capital environment too.

But there was a challenge: how to contain the Federal merchants’ rampant expansion while still maintaining profitability. So lately, the Gephrans had been discussing countermeasures. 𝐟𝕣𝕖𝐞𝐰𝕖𝚋𝐧𝗼𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝗰𝐨𝐦

To Lynch, these discussions were laughable.

No matter what the Gephran merchants tried, they couldn’t compete with him or the other Federal merchants. They had a trump card.

Cheap labor.

That advantage couldn’t be erased overnight. More importantly, even if the locals didn’t side with the Federation, they definitely wouldn’t side with the Gephrans.

The criminals Lynch had captured weren’t handed over to Blackstone Security. Instead, they were given to the Gephrans.

Not long ago, the Gephrans had been plagued by local resistance—assassinations, violent attacks, bad news every day. Many Gephrans died here.

That hatred couldn’t be erased with a few speeches or executive orders. To the Gephrans, the locals were their most hated enemy.

So they were eager to take on the most crucial part of the plan: the executions. Governor Sedel encouraged it, aiming to restore the Gephrans’ image of authority and fear.

As for the minor issues that arose from it, he didn’t see them as problems.

Just like a farmer doesn’t care if the pigs are satisfied with their food, their living conditions, or their master. All that matters is their weight, fat ratio, and the price of pork.

Ethnic conflict. Class conflict. Catching up to Federal merchants would be extremely difficult for them.

Lynch sat for a moment, thinking. Then he made his first strategic move for managing the overall situation.

“Starting tomorrow morning, begin recruitment in all major areas of Zhuris.”

The local defector hesitated. “Mr. Lynch, did you say… recruit workers?”

He repeated the phrase, thinking he must have misheard.

Among the former upper and middle classes of Amellian society, most had already chosen sides—either the Gephrans or Lynch. More had sided with the Gephrans.

Most of these people were opportunists. Before their country officially leased this land to Gephra as a concession, they had time to leave. But they stayed to gamble, hoping to use their status and influence to cozy up to the Gephrans and become second only to them—even more important than some Gephrans themselves.

Only those who saw how foolish their decisions had been, who were utterly disillusioned with the Gephrans, defected to the Federation. They were few—like the one standing in front of Lynch now, focused on grabbing market share from the Gephrans.

Infrastructure development was important, but not urgent. What mattered now was the market. Amellian province had just under twenty million people, and that market was currently wide open.

Whoever seized it first would enjoy a steady stream of wealth.

The defector thought Lynch would use some clever tactics to win the market war—but he never expected him to start by recruiting workers.

“Want to know why?” Lynch, seated behind his desk, looked up at the middle-aged man. A confident smile appeared. “Compassion. You may not understand it, but that’s not important. Just do what I said. Start by recruiting 2,000 people in Zhuris. Pay close to Nagaryll rates.”

He pointed at the man. “Just do it.”

The next morning, after two weeks of bloody suppression, Zhuris finally had a stretch of good weather. The sky was cloudless, and the sun’s heat carried the scent of summer.

There were still few people on the streets—more than before, but not by much.

At 9:30 a.m., two locals appeared on what was once the busiest street in Zhuris.

Broken bricks on the ground and bullet holes in the walls still marked the violence of the past. The once-lively street no longer had its former charm.

Some elderly people squatted by the walls, faces covered with caps, as if resting.

Shadows moved behind windows, curiously watching the two men holding signs.

The sign was hung beside a broken streetlamp. People looked from a distance.

Factory Workers Wanted – Paid Daily – One Federal Sol, followed by a contact address.

Simple. Direct. But the effect… wasn’t great.

The same signs were posted in several formerly bustling areas. The pay wasn’t high, but not low either.

Especially now, when almost everything in Zhuris had come to a halt, having a job—with daily pay—was incredibly tempting.

As the sun shifted from the eastern sky to the south, the heat intensified.

Old folks sitting on the roadside moved into the shade, their dull eyes drifting aimlessly.

“Should we send someone to make a show of interest?” someone asked the defector.

He shook his head. Lynch hadn’t given further orders. He didn’t dare act on his own.

Meanwhile, another group was watching in confusion.

“What do you think… is he trying to do?”

From a nearby window, a group of Gephran businessmen stared at the job recruitment sign baking in the sun, unable to figure out what Lynch was up to.

They instinctively looked down on the locals—sometimes with outright contempt. Even when their factories needed workers, they simply had the local collaborators bring them in.But recruitment… was that really necessary?

Lynch still had access to a large pool of cheap labor from Nagaryll. There was no need to hire local workers—most of them were just rioters.

“Maybe he wants to win over the locals,” one of the businessmen offered.

“Win them over?” someone immediately questioned. “Is that really necessary?”

That was the question on everyone’s mind—was it worth appeasing these lowly locals?

They couldn’t understand it, but it didn’t stop them from treating the whole thing like a joke. Sitting in the shade, sipping iced wine, enjoying premium cigars from the Federation, and chatting about their bright future.

This time, without the nobles’ interference, they were sure to create miracles.

Just as noon was about to pass, one of the errand boys near the window—refilling drinks and clearing ashtrays—suddenly gasped, “Someone applied!”

Several Gephran tycoons immediately stood up and rushed to the window. A scrawny young man was standing beneath the sign, asking questions.

He wasn’t just being watched by them—locals, officials from the governor’s office, and Federal businessmen were all paying attention. Everyone, except Lynch.

He wasn’t watching because he already knew it would work.

His goal was simple: to stimulate impulsive consumption in the market.

A similar study had been conducted in the Federation—and even in another world. The subjects were factory workers, and the question was about their consumer preferences.

Strangely, most workers preferred to buy products made by the brand they worked for. No one told them to—they just did. They would even criticize other brands, as if they held shares in their own company.

This odd sense of loyalty and impulse could drive larger market behavior. Blackstone Capital had already proven its strength here. Now came the softer approach.

And as non-invaders, the Federals were more likely to earn local support than the Gephrans. Combined with upcoming strategies, Gephran merchants simply couldn’t compete.

At least not with Lynch.

Once the first person signed up, the second stepped out from the shadows. Then a third, a fourth…

More and more people gathered. On their lifeless faces, registering successfully seemed to bring a spark of vitality. The expressions of the Gephran businessmen began to change.

Meanwhile, Lynch wasn’t paying attention at all. He was on a call.

On the other end was Mark, nephew of the former mayor of Sabin. Lynch had invited him to work in Amellia—he had a role that suited Mark’s experience perfectly.