Blackstone Code

Lynch tossed a cigarette to the young driver in front of him. He understood very well that for these drivers who had been deceived into coming from Nagaryll, the Federation was the only thing they could truly rely on.

The Gephra people couldn’t be trusted. The locals couldn’t be trusted. In unfamiliar environments, people naturally cling to whatever and whomever they find familiar.

Sometimes, people even become dependent on those who persecute them. It’s strange, but it’s real.

“Your name is Akumari, right?” Lynch asked, holding a cigarette pack in one hand, tapping it with a finger from the other. A cigarette popped out.

Just as Lynch bit down on it, Akumari quickly lit a match, shielding it from the wind with one hand, and offered the flame with the other.

“Thanks,” Lynch said politely. He was a courteous man, with a moral bottom line and a sense of social responsibility. He would thank anyone who helped him.

After taking a couple of puffs, Lynch patted Akumari’s hand. Only then did Akumari light his own cigarette using the last bit of the flame—but he didn’t smoke it. He simply held it in his hand as a gesture of respect for someone in a higher position.

“I didn’t expect Mr. Lynch to remember my name!” Akumari was clearly a bit moved. They’d only met a few times, but when Lynch called him by name, any resentment Akumari may have felt largely disappeared.

Lynch smiled. “I try my best to remember every one of my employees’ names. You may work for me, but I respect your individuality. Everyone is born equal.”