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"On behalf of the people of Magura, I welco you, Mr. Lynch from the Federation!"
The Provincial Governor spoke fluent international language, leaving no room for misinterpretation—a rarity in less developed nations. Many backward countries harbored a peculiar confidence, believing others would accommodate them rather than vice versa. Ignorance, arrogance, and hubris often characterized such attitudes. However, Lynch sensed none of that here. The Governor didn't resemble a ruler of a primitive or ignorant region. His personal style, deanor, and impeccable command of the international language created a stark contrast with his supposed background. This was no ordinary man; his linguistic proficiency alone hinted at deeper complexities.
Lynch's mind raced while maintaining his clean smile. He extended his hand to shake the Governor's, instantly noting the warmth of his palm and the firm yet relaxed grip. Success was never coincidental—even fleeting luck wouldn't sustain itself indefinitely.
"I am deeply honored to have the opportunity to visit this fertile land," Lynch replied. "In my eyes, it brims with miracles and potential!" His response broadened the Governor's already warm smile.
The Governor gave Lynch's hand a final shake before releasing it. "No need for flattery. I know what kind of country Nagalier is, and I'm aware we lag far behind the leading nations. That's precisely why we need your help—and the assistance of passionate international friends like you.
"In terms of science and technology, in advanced managent practices, we have much to learn. For all who are willing to aid us, we will not be stingy, nor will we allow them to suffer losses."
Sotis, people spoke half-truths to avoid awkwardness. What the Governor left unsaid hung heavy in the air: "If you're just here to exploit us, we won't let you get away with it." Though unspoken, the implication lingered.
Lynch's expression remained earnest as flashes of caras illuminated the room. Reporters, both local and international—including so from the Federation—were present. Their inclusion had been a deliberate decision by Arthur and Mishahaya. News of Lynch's investnt in Nagalier wasn't ant solely for dostic consumption but also for global audiences. This publicity served as an advertisent for Nagalier. Once word spread about its opportunities, investors from the Federation would flock like storm clouds, raining money across every inch of the land.
After discussions between Mishahaya and the Governor, they agreed to allow journalists to docunt this historic mont. It was also a safeguard for Lynch—an insurance policy against potential hostility. Should public attention grow within the Federation, any move against him by Nagalier authorities would require careful consideration of diplomatic repercussions. As long as imdiate action was deterred, Lynch could maneuver to turn the tide.
The brief burst of cara flashes montarily bathed the room in light. When their hands parted, the flashes paused, gathering strength for the next round.
With formalities out of the way, the Governor shifted to more "personal" exchanges. Personal, however, was relative for soone of his stature.
"Lynch, may I call you that?" Upon receiving Lynch's affirmative nod, the Governor dispensed with the honorific "Mr." and addressed him simply as "Lynch."
"When I heard soone intended to invest here, I was genuinely surprised—not out of modesty, but because I truly understand what kind of nation Nagalier is. Can you tell
what drew you here? And what industries do you plan to invest in?"
The crowd began gravitating toward them. Those unworthy or rely there for amusent discreetly retreated. Nagalier's rigid class system perated every interaction.
Lynch picked up a glass of sparkling wine from a server's tray, clearing his throat. "As Governor Delage ntioned..."
"You can call
Delage—you forgot, we're friends now." The Governor continued to project an image of enlightennt and progressiveness. Yet Lynch saw through the facade. Beneath the traditional attire lay layers of pretense—a mask of modernity concealing deeper truths. Still, Lynch played along, bowing slightly with an appreciative smile. "I'm honored... As Mr. Delage said earlier, many people's perceptions of Nagalier remain stuck in the past."
"They see poverty, backwardness, perhaps untapped mineral resources—but deem extraction impractical due to harsh natural conditions. So even dismiss Nagalier as worthless."
Though outwardly calm, the assembled elites felt a twinge of discomfort. As mbers of the ruling class, Nagalier's stagnation reflected poorly on them. How could they rejoice in diocrity?
But Lynch swiftly pivoted, adept at the art of rhetorical uplift. "Yet, in my view, people overlook many things! We cannot asure societal developnt purely by the value it creates. Cultural growth, improvents in living standards—these too represent progress, intangible values far surpassing re wealth.
"Nagalier holds clear advantages. Mr. Arthur and I have discussed this repeatedly: labor costs here are lower than elsewhere, which is a trendous asset. Soone once said, ‘In this new era, people themselves are a form of wealth.' I wholeheartedly agree, and this sentint fits Nagalier perfectly.
"We lack many things, but we don't lack sincerity for rapid developnt or a hardworking populace. I plan to establish at least five factories in Magura, each providing over a thousand jobs. Additionally, I'll invest in building roads, railways, dredging rivers, and developing uncultivated areas. Beyond infrastructure, I'll regularly send groups abroad to study advanced technologies, gain practical experience, and acquire cutting-edge knowledge. These individuals will return to contribute to Nagalier's transformation. That is my vision."
Standing amidst the crowd, Lynch raised his right hand toward the dod ceiling. "Investnt isn't exploitation—it's mutual prosperity, shared developnt.
"I understand concerns that foreign investors might disrupt local customs. Let
assure everyone: I respect every culture's traditions, work ethics, and lifestyles. I am not a destroyer—I am a builder!"
Seconds later, applause erupted throughout the hall. Smiles exchanged glances carried subtle ssages. They understood Lynch's implicit assurances—he wouldn't ddle with welfare systems, human rights, or existing power structures. Instead, he promised investnt without disruption, making him palatable to the elite.
"Excellent ideas," the Governor applauded. "They make
envision Nagalier's future. We need people like you to assist us. Your words resonate deeply. Mutual prosperity, shared developnt—very inspiring!"
Pausing mid-sentence, the Governor glanced at his luxury watch, worth thousands of federation thors. With a faintly apologetic smile, he added, "Forgive , but I have other engagents. We must talk further soon—I'm intrigued by your plans."
"Certainly." Lynch shook hands once more as the Governor waved goodbye and exited through the grand doors. Truthfully, he had no pressing matters elsewhere. His departure stemd from protocol; after all, the banquet's host was Mayor Mishahaya. Remaining would have overshadowed both Lynch and Mishahaya.
Once the Governor left, the atmosphere grew livelier. Many, including Mishahaya, gathered around Lynch, eager to discuss his upcoming projects.
"When do you plan to build the factories? Where? And what products will they manufacture?" Mishahaya asked first.
Lynch patted a nearby wooden artifact. "These woods seem promising. How abundant are they in the wild?"
"Logging?" Mishahaya blurted, furrowing his brow. This wasn't what he'd envisioned. He hoped Lynch would invest in a real factory—preferably heavy industry. Such production lines cost hundreds of millions of galiars and weren't easily acquired.Please vote for this novel at snovelupdates/series/blackstone-code/There are advance chapters available nowAccess will be granted 24 hours after the donationTier 1: 20 Advance chapters Link
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