Lynch spoke with ease before the nobles, showing no sign of nervousness. He might not have been the youngest among them, but he was close.
Even in the face of nobles older than him, with higher social standing, he had never once felt they were superior—in any way.
His gaze at them was no different from how one might glance at commoners on the street. This gave him a distinctive presence, an aura that compelled people to listen carefully to what he said.
“For example…” he gestured casually in the direction of the royal palace. “The power struggle between the Prime Minister and His Majesty has nothing to do with people like us.”
“Whether it’s the Prime Minister or the Emperor, once they seize power, do you think they’ll hand over a share of it to any of you? To all of you?”
No answer was needed. Everyone knew it was impossible. The Prime Minister or the Emperor would only place their trusted allies in key positions—not these fringe nobles.
That was the truth, and it made their expressions sour.
“So we isolate this issue too. We’re just bystanders. Whether the Prime Minister wins or loses, it has nothing to do with us. So why should we rush to choose a side?”
“He’s driving down the Gephra Financial Index because it suits his own agenda. He wants the Finance Minister out of the center of power and needs to create a historic event to achieve that. It’s not about helping us make more money.”
“So from my point of view, who wins doesn’t matter. What matters is who can offer us more—real, tangible benefits.”
“Even if that means siding with the Emperor!”
He set down his glass, a knowing smirk on his face. “You can’t eat the future. Only the power in your hands counts. For now, we do nothing. Once the fight intensifies, they’ll come to court us.”
“And when they do, we go with whoever offers the highest price!”
If the grand nobles of the Privy Council had heard Lynch, they’d surely call him shameless—swaying on such critical matters, driven purely by self-interest, an utter scoundrel.
But Lynch didn’t care if they heard. In fact, if these nobles spread his words, it might even help in negotiations with either the Prime Minister or the Emperor—I can be bought.
After giving the group a moment to process, Lynch spoke again.
At his voice, the room fell silent once more.
“Things won’t change drastically next, but there is something I need you to do…” The resistance in the nobles’ eyes was fading.
They were nobles. They didn’t need to be smart themselves—just needed smart people around them.
The zealous young Count nodded eagerly. Lynch suddenly thought that if he told the boy he was his father, the count might even agree.
Of course, the thought was absurd—gone as quickly as it came.
Lynch refocused, speaking seriously. “I need you to take out loans from the Royal Bank of Gephra, any noble-affiliated banks linked to the Finance Minister, and even private banks.”
“I know nobles have privileges—interest-free periods. I want you to borrow as much as you can. If they want collateral, give it to them.”
“Pledge your houses, your cars, anything you can. Don’t be afraid.”
Seeing a few nobles squirm uncomfortably, Lynch smiled and reassured them. “I’m not asking you to use the money. Just borrow it and bring it home.”
“Don’t give it to me, the Prime Minister, or anyone else. Keep it in your own homes. After a month, repay the loans.”
“We only need the money for one month. One month is more than enough!”
Lynch’s smile had a hint of malicious amusement. Some nobles still didn’t understand why they were doing this—but it didn’t seem entirely unreasonable.
If Lynch had wanted to use the money, they’d never agree. But since they would keep the money themselves and return it after a month, interest-free, it didn’t feel like a real risk.
Worried about theft?
Please—this was Gephra. Robbing a commoner might take police months to solve. But robbing a noble? If the criminal wasn’t killed on the spot, they’d be executed in a matter of days.
Attacking one noble meant attacking them all—unlike in the Federation.
In the Federation, capitalists kicked each other when down, exploiting every weakness for profit. Doing nothing was considered mercy.
But in Gephra, it didn’t work that way. Nobles could fight amongst themselves—but outsiders could never challenge their class, in any form.
Once Lynch finished, everyone left to calculate how much they could borrow, then headed to the banks to get the money.
Since Lynch hadn’t asked them to keep it secret—and it was impossible anyway, given their high-profile movements—it wasn’t long before word got out.
By the next afternoon, the Prime Minister had already heard.
“You’re saying… Lynch told them to take out loans from all the major banks?” the Prime Minister frowned, setting down his pen. He’d been busy forming his inner circle and hadn’t been tracking those fringe nobles.
Hearing this suddenly, his first thought was that they were trying to profit from the national crisis—cashing in on the power struggle between him and the Emperor.
A surge of anger rose in him. Yes, they had plans to short the index, but doing it so blatantly—wasn’t that shameless?
“I see…” he muttered irritably. Once he took power, he’d make those little nobles bleed—take back everything, with interest.
But just as he returned to work and his pen dropped a blot of ink onto the page, bleeding into the paper, he froze.
“So that’s it?!” His eyes widened slightly. He understood.
The Prime Minister had solid political instincts. In that instant, he realized Lynch wasn’t trying to deepen the financial short—he was helping him.
The idea seemed ridiculous—how could taking out loans affect the outcome of a political power struggle?
But somehow, Lynch could make it work.
The more the Prime Minister thought, the clearer it became. He stood up, paced before his desk, and followed the train of thought to its end.
The Finance Minister needed to boost the Gephra Financial Index to stabilize his power. That way, the Prime Minister and Emperor wouldn’t keep clashing over fiscal control.
To push the index up, he needed one thing—money. A lot of it.
Pushing the index was simple: just buy.
No matter who’s selling, just keep buying. Once prices start to rise, those scared, twitchy retail investors—swayed by greed—would regain their courage and follow the upward trend.
They wouldn’t keep selling—they’d choose to wait and see, which would create room for the index to rise.
The logic was simple. The problem was: where would the money come from?
The nobles’ money wasn’t easy to get, and the Prime Minister knew this well. If he wanted them to fund his power struggle, he’d have to not only repay what they gave but compensate them generously.
Even if the Finance Minister managed to hold on to power, the next five to ten years wouldn’t be easy. Most of his trusted allies would be demoted, key positions filled with others—he’d be stripped of real authority.
The nobles wouldn’t lend him money. To raise the stock index, his only option was to borrow from the banks.
He owned many assets, some passed down for centuries, along with a vast art collection. He could use these as collateral to borrow from the banks and drive the index upward.
If things stabilized, he might not only avoid a loss but even profit—sell his shares, repay the loans, and possibly come out ahead.
That was the ideal scenario.
But what if things didn’t go as planned?
What if… the banks ran out of money?
Yes, the banks had no money. A large number of nobles borrowing at once—could the banks say no?
Many of those nobles were shareholders themselves. Could the banks afford to ignore them?
Bank funds were finite. If local funds couldn’t cover the demand, the Finance Minister was finished.
Realizing this, the Prime Minister slammed his fist down and immediately picked up the phone, relaying his thoughts and orders.
His plan mirrored Lynch’s: he instructed all nobles on his side to borrow as much as they could from every bank, leaving not a single cent for the Finance Minister.
Without money, let’s see how you raise the index!
And this only strengthened the Prime Minister’s desire to meet Lynch as soon as possible.
This was a remarkable young man.
