The Emperor sat high on the dais, watching the Prime Minister speak at length about the post-crisis handling of Harmony Capital.

He didn’t dwell much on the demands of the shareholders and instead tossed the question to the Prime Minister. “What are your thoughts?”

The other ministers naturally kept their distance. This was about the Prime Minister seeking control over the Treasury—it had nothing to do with them, and they had no intention of getting involved.

To the other ministers, as long as they still held power and there was no immediate threat to it, there was no reason to do anything foolish.

After a moment of silence, the Prime Minister said, “Your Majesty, admitting mistakes is not shameful. We should acknowledge our errors in allowing an unsuitable enterprise like Harmony Capital to go public.”

“Some individuals used questionable means to make dirty money during this process. I believe we should recover these illicit gains and impose punitive fines.”

“We need to make it clear to speculators and anyone associated with Harmony Capital that there is some money that simply cannot be taken.”

The Emperor listened thoughtfully. The person who profited most from this disaster was probably Lynch.

Confiscating his earnings and fining him sounded like a good idea—both publicly and privately. It was an appealing option.

But the Emperor didn’t agree immediately. He took some time to consider the details.

The Prime Minister had already laid out the charges and justifications: confiscate illegal gains, impose fines, and do so in a way that wouldn’t scare off local or foreign investors.

The Emperor nodded. “Carry it out quickly.”

If the Prime Minister wanted power, then he should be the one to handle the dirty work. After all, there’s no such thing as gaining benefits without paying a price.

News of what had happened in the imperial hall spread fast. The already busy Privy Council became even livelier. Many nobles who rarely showed up were now present, chatting with everyone as if they came every day.

In the past, the Privy Council was a place to kill time—or quietly stew in frustration.

There were many nobles, but only a few held real power. The rest were just figureheads. It was hard not to feel bitter.

But this time was different. The next Finance Minister might be chosen from the Council. Even if their chances were slim, everyone was trying to build support—what if luck was on their side?

Besides, the Privy Council had its own rules. The old noble families would likely choose someone from within, probably a hereditary noble with enough prestige.

Even if one couldn’t be the lucky one, getting close to the next Finance Minister early was a worthwhile investment.

Someday, that social investment might pay off. Even a minor official role was valuable—at least it meant having power.

Even if the Prime Minister became the new Finance Minister, the process itself allowed the nobles to show their relevance and value. That was their motivation.

Seeing the noisy hall, a few elder nobles smiled wryly.

Then, murmurs at the entrance caught people’s attention.

These voices were a bit different—slightly louder, with an undercurrent of something… unpleasant. Not outright hostility, but certainly not goodwill.

Everyone turned to the entrance. Lynch and his group had arrived, and the news quickly rippled through the room.

“Lynch and his people are here…” That was what people whispered, with a touch of schadenfreude in their tone and a flicker of greed in their eyes.

In just over a month, these people had made millions—some even tens of millions. Even the old-money nobles were tempted.

But in the end, it was this group of minor nobles who profited. Nobles who couldn’t even protect their own interests—that was their tragedy.

Jealousy mixed with mockery, hidden beneath the nobles’ polished exterior, was anything but elegant.

News from the imperial hall wasn’t just about nominating a new Finance Minister. It also revealed that the Prime Minister intended to use Lynch’s group—and other speculators—to pacify the protesters.

However much they made, they’d be forced to pay it back, plus a punitive fine.

Whether Lynch actually had the money didn’t matter. He wasn’t a Gephra citizen. Once he left, those fines would likely go uncollected—

Which was exactly what the Emperor and Lynch’s detractors wanted: to hang him high as a scapegoat and make the public despise him.

But the rest of the group—those who couldn’t escape—would likely be the first nobles to go bankrupt. They couldn’t afford the fines and would be forced to sell everything, possibly ending up on the streets.

Just the thought of witnessing the fall of a noble in their lifetime filled the Council with anticipation. It wasn’t something you saw every day.

As they quietly excluded the small group, it only made them more united.

The young Count stood behind Lynch, clenched his fists, then let go helplessly. There was nothing he could do.

His father’s sudden death left the family splintered and severed all external connections.

Those networks had never passed to him. He lacked a mentor to bridge the gap.

He didn’t like coming to the Privy Council—it felt unfamiliar. Instead of giving him a sense of security, the other nobles made him feel uneasy.

Lynch subtly stepped forward to block some of the hostile glances from the nobles. He walked in confidently, unfazed by their malice.

“What’s the matter?” he asked with a smile, glancing at the surrounding nobles. “Surprised to see me?”

Just moments ago, the room was lively. But as soon as Lynch entered, everyone nearby fell silent.

It was strange—none of them owed him anything, nor did they have a direct conflict. Yet seeing Lynch—someone about to fall—made them retreat.

Even when he spoke provocatively, no one responded.

“Something to say to me?” he asked, looking around. The nobles remained silent. Lynch smirked. “If not, then move aside.”

He stepped forward, and those closest to him felt a crushing pressure, as if the world itself trembled with his stride.

Their expressions shifted—dark and heavy—as they stepped aside to make way.

Lynch walked tall toward the center of the hall. The minor nobles behind him, revived by this silent confrontation, seemed to regain their spirit.

Once they reached their usual spot, the attendants promptly served drinks and pastries.”Mr. Lynch…” A nobleman in his thirties finally couldn’t hold it in and spoke quietly. “I’ve heard we might be in trouble.”

There was a trace of barely concealed fear in his eyes. After all, their opponent this time was the Prime Minister.

The Imperial Prime Minister—even if he had once been a figurehead, his title and family were no decoration. Crushing small players like them would be easy.

And this wasn’t just a political maneuver—it was a decision made jointly by the Emperor and his ministers in the Hall of Rule. Their opponents weren’t just the Prime Minister, but also the Emperor himself and the entire cabinet.

The thought of being caught in such a ruthless power struggle made sweat bead on the man’s face.

Apologizing as he spoke, he wiped at the endless stream of sweat until his handkerchief was soaked.

Lynch looked at him, then glanced around at the others and shook his head casually. “So what?” 𝗳𝚛𝚎𝚎𝘄𝕖𝕓𝕟𝕠𝚟𝚎𝕝.𝗰𝕠𝐦

His tone was calm and steady. “Even the Prime Minister isn’t someone I’d ever bow to.”

He chuckled, lifted a teacup from the table, and added, “Besides, we haven’t lost yet.”

“But…” the noble tried to continue, but was abruptly cut off by the young Count.

The Count shot him a sharp look. “No buts. If Mr. Lynch says we haven’t lost, then we haven’t lost.”

His admiration for Lynch had reached the level of blind devotion. Even if Lynch claimed the Emperor and Prime Minister would duel tomorrow and both drop dead, he’d believe it.

People believe in miracles not because they’re too incredible—but because they happen so often they stop questioning them.

Who would have thought they could accomplish in a few short weeks what might take one or two generations—maybe even three?

Lynch raised a hand to silence the young Count. “When facing an external threat, what we need isn’t doubt—it’s unity. That’s the only way we defeat our enemies.”

“Each one of us matters to the whole. No one is expendable.”

“As for the fears you have—they’re unnecessary. Like I said, no one will lay a hand on us.”

He spoke with unwavering confidence, and that confidence began to spread. The others slowly calmed down, their anxiety fading.

They began to ignore the whispers and stares around them.