As soon as Lynch spoke, the Emperor couldn’t continue.
The main reason the Amellian Province lacked development was that the nobility refused to go there. On one hand, Amellia was a leased territory. In this world, there was no concept of a lease becoming permanent after a hundred years.
No matter how long the lease, it would eventually have to be returned.
In other words, if the nobility invested heavily in developing Amellia, then in 120 years—when the lease expired—the region, which by then might even surpass the Gephra mainland economically, would have to be returned to its original owner.
All that time, energy, and wealth would ultimately benefit another country—an enemy of Gephra. It would be aiding the enemy.
Once the land was handed back, would the original country treat Gephran nobles and merchants kindly?
Of course not. They’d be lucky not to be arrested outright. At the very least, the nobles would be expelled.
This meant 120 years of effort would be wasted. Entire noble families investing everything would see it all handed over to someone else. Why would they be interested in answering the Emperor’s call to develop the province?
There had been talk that the Emperor never intended to return the territory—that during the next war, Gephra would seize the entire country and use it as a forward base for global conquest.
But so far, no one saw any hope of that happening. Conquering a continental nation would require a powerful army.
Gephra’s land forces… were barely enough to defend their own borders. The nobility didn’t believe the Emperor’s vision would ever be realized.
This wasn’t pessimism—it was reality.
And if Amellia did prosper, it would make the status of the Gephran mainland awkward.
The nobility’s wealth—vast estates, elegant villas, fortified castles—was all tied to the mainland. All the wealth accumulated over generations was deeply rooted there.
If Amellia started to outpace the mainland, their assets would shrink dramatically. As wealth and power shifted, the mainland would inevitably decline.
No noble would want to see that happen.
Spending 120 years pumping money into Amellia, only to hand it over to an enemy in the end—no one would willingly do that.
Everyone knew developing Amellia was the only way out of the “island trap,” but in the face of such interests, they refused to heed the Emperor’s call.
It wasn’t just about reluctance. It was about unshakable principles and inviolable lines.
Even now, the number of nobles working to develop Amellia was pitifully low. Apart from officials stationed there, no one else would go.
The Emperor had exhausted every idea to push the nobility over. He even considered moving the imperial palace there—but still, nothing worked.
And now, with one sentence, Lynch had given him hope.
Everything starts with a first step—whether it’s a child learning to walk or a knight’s apprentice picking up a sword. No matter the endeavor, it begins with that first, crucial step.
The Emperor fell silent for a while, watching Lynch, weighing his options. Sometimes he looked away, not letting Lynch’s gaze linger too long on him, lest his thoughts be exposed.
At this point, he no longer saw Lynch as a young man.
He had just spoken to the Prime Minister about taking down Lynch and his fellow speculators to calm the market—but now Lynch had proposed an alternative.
And it was a very tempting one.
To be honest.
Compared to bailing out financial investors, a national development strategy was far more important. One was about the everyday joys and sorrows of the masses; the other was about the rise of the Empire. The Emperor knew exactly which was more vital.
His hesitation now was just a performance—to give Lynch the impression that the decision was difficult, that even if he agreed, it was with great reluctance.
Lynch watched the act with amusement. He’d already seen through the Emperor.
He just waited, silently… until the Emperor grew a little irritated.
According to the script, this was when Lynch should offer more—raise the stakes.
If one offer wasn’t enough, make another.
But Lynch made no move. The Emperor reminded himself not to get angry, that this was part of Lynch’s strategy—but he still couldn’t help the irritation.
He glared at Lynch. The latter raised an eyebrow with a cheerful smile. “Your Majesty, after some discussion, we’ve decided that about thirty percent of the jobs from our investments will be reserved for people from the mainland.”
“The wages will be slightly above average. Maybe that’ll shut some people up. Don’t you think?”
At first, the Emperor didn’t understand what Lynch meant. But he soon did—and his expression turned strange.
“You’re saying… you want those protesters to go to Amellia and work for you?” he asked, voice rising. “Ha, that’s rich, Lynch.”
“I’m not criticizing, but… you took their money, and now you want them to work for you? Are all Federal citizens this shameless and greedy?”
Lynch didn’t flinch at the jab. He smiled sincerely. “Your Majesty, perhaps you don’t understand—shameless and greedy are actually compliments to people like us.”
“You’ve heard of shameless, greedy merchants—but have you ever heard of kind, compassionate merchants?”
“We praise warriors for their valor, sages for their wisdom. These are their unique virtues. Shamelessness and greed are no different—they’re our professional praise.”
Lynch’s perspective was unusual. The Emperor thought about it seriously for a moment—and found himself nodding subconsciously.
Indeed, calling a sage brave wouldn’t be praise.
Lynch’s composure impressed him. He didn’t let others’ opinions sway his mood. He didn’t get happy or upset about things that had nothing to do with him.
Even if he didn’t like Lynch, the Emperor had to admit—Lynch was impressive.
“Let’s talk more,” the Emperor said seriously, picking up a pen, ready to jot things down.
Lynch knew he had won him over. Smiling, he stood up. “It would be an honor, Your Majesty.”
“In my plan, we’ll build many factories—especially light industry and processing plants. These don’t require high skill levels and can create a large number of jobs, which will help stabilize public order in Amellia.”
“More importantly, if we can offer relatively unbiased job opportunities to the locals, it will help ease the hatred between the Gephran people and the natives.”
“No matter how much we try to cover it up, some things simply can’t be hidden—like the massacres…”
The Emperor frowned and interrupted Lynch, “That wasn’t a massacre. It was an orderly execution of criminals.”
Lynch smiled and didn’t argue. Everyone knew what it was. Truckloads of people were taken to the execution grounds, slaughtered in batches, then buried or burned outside the city.
Even now, the soil between the cracks in the central city bricks was still dark red or black, soaked in blood. Rain—dozens of rains—hadn’t washed the color away.
Lynch wasn’t trying to provoke the Emperor, only to remind him.
To remind him that under today’s seemingly stable rule, hostility still lingered. What the Empire of Gephra needed wasn’t to reignite conflict, but to find a way to resolve it.
Giving people stable lives and improving their quality of life was clearly a good start.
In Lynch’s vision, education, employment, and a relatively freer environment—policies different from those on the Gephran mainland—would gradually win over the people.
His own example, along with that of other nobles, could influence some of the more hesitant aristocrats. Not all nobles came from deep-rooted lineages. Some, like those surrounding Lynch, came from families that had only recently risen.
They were more inclined to take risks and more willing to try new things.
At home, their chances for growth were slim—the old nobility controlled nearly all the resources. If they wanted to rise, Amellia was their only real chance.
Lynch’s plan was not complex or dressed up in lofty rhetoric. It was straightforward.
After weighing it over for a while, the Emperor found it highly feasible.
Most importantly, Lynch and his group were willing to invest all their money into the development and rebuilding of Amellia. That was crucial.
By the end of the conversation, the Emperor had a solid grasp of Lynch’s ideas. The paper in front of him was filled with notes for further discussion with his ministers.
At the end of their meeting, the Emperor asked, “I understand everything you’ve said. Do you have any requests?”
“Something like policy support, tax exemptions, or anything else?”
“If you do, speak now. We can discuss it together, and avoid unnecessary delays.”
Lynch nodded. “Actually, I do have a small request…”
