Blackstone Code Chapter 701: Divorce

The sudden ringing of the phone always felt jarring—sotis even heart-pounding.

Lynch stared at it for two seconds, then picked it up.

He had just lifted his pen, ready to write sothing. Now, there was only a blot of ink on the paper in front of him, no words.

“It’s …”

“I’m Nail…” ca his father’s voice, followed by a short silence. Then it resud. “If you’re free, you should co back to the Federation. Your mother and I are getting a divorce.”

Lynch wasn’t surprised. From the mont he arrived in this world, Nail and Serra’s marriage had already reached its end.

For many ordinary people, marriage isn’t about love—it’s a social arrangent.

This is the reality most people face: The person I married isn’t the one I love most, but the one I can’t live without.

It sounds abstract, but it’s the truth. If Lynch hadn’t co to this world, the original Lynch would have broken up with Katherine, endured several beatings from society, and matured.

He would have married soone perhaps not beautiful, but suitable for building a quiet life with.

He might have cried alone in the middle of the night or drowned in drunken regret about the past. But that’s life—an ordinary life.

Nail and Serra lived the sa way. They weren’t necessarily each other’s true love. Nail needed a woman to build a household and keep things running after work. Serra needed a man who could earn, giving her a stable life, sparing her from degrading jobs and judgntal eyes.

They dated a few tis after their first eting. When they didn’t find any deal-breakers, they decided to marry.

It wasn’t the result of love, nor its grave. There simply wasn’t love to begin with. Love was just a mutually acceptable lie to legitimize the relationship.

They were just getting by—for the sake of getting by.

If Lynch hadn’t shown up.

But he did. Lynch was replaced by Lynch. From that mont, Nail and Serra’s life trajectory changed. They got rich, and with money, there was no need to stay together just to get by.

Nail, now wealthy, gained the right to pursue happiness. He beca obsessed with young, pretty girls—symbols of happiness and love in his eyes.

Serra changed too, though not as obviously. She learned to style her hair, take care of her skin, and started working out with the wealthy housewives in her community.

Sounds cliché, but people really do change that fast.

Serra t a smooth-talking younger man and started a new relationship.

If you want a simple way to judge the state of their marriage: just look at how often they slept together.

Before Lynch beca rich, it was two or three tis a week—more when work was especially stressful.

But in the past year, there had been nothing.

During Nail’s recent vacation back in the Federation, they talked. Both agreed to end the relationship and pursue their own versions of happiness.

Lynch didn’t feel much when he heard it. He’d seen it too many tis. This was one of the privileges money brings—you get to choose your happiness, instead of settling.

See how pitiful poverty is? You don’t even get the right to choose happiness.

“I understand. I’ll head back as soon as I can,” Lynch replied calmly.

The call went quiet again. After a while, Nail said softly, “Sorry we didn’t discuss it with you beforehand.”

Lynch curled his lip. “You’re both adults. Don’t apologize to . We’ll talk in person.”

After hanging up, he gave an order to book a ticket for the sa day. By the next evening, he was back on Federal soil.

He didn’t alert anyone. Lynch took an overnight train back to Sabin. By noon the next day, he arrived at the station.

No one knew he had returned. Most still thought he was managing affairs in Allia.

At Nail and Serra’s villa, Lynch t them both.

It was clear—they had changed a lot from the versions etched in Lynch’s mory.

Nail looked younger. Without grueling physical labor and industrial gri, he was clean-cut and fresh.

Serra also looked years younger. Freed from household chores, she had ti to care for her skin and body.

She even practiced yoga or similar stretching exercises now.

Their changes made it hard for them to stay together. The past wasn’t a treasure—wealth was. Poverty wasn’t.

Maybe soday they’d feel nostalgic. But they’d never yearn for those days. No one truly wants to be poor.

Besides Nail and Serra, a few lawyers were present. Lynch had paid them generously. Nail now qualified as a successful man, and Serra had steady monthly deposits in her account.

They could afford private attorneys for the divorce. Not that this case would bring the lawyers much—it wasn’t a contested divorce, no money to squeeze.

When the three of them t, the two elders were awkward. Lynch casually sat on the couch, picked up the agreent, and quickly skimd it.

He didn’t care about the divorce itself. He went straight to the property division.

Apparently, it was an amicable split. Both sides had compromised.

Nail was willing to give Serra the villa Lynch had gifted them. Serra, in turn, asked for no money—now or later.

Overall, it looked fair. Since Lynch was now an adult, he was excluded from the agreent. None of Nail’s shares or company assets were touched either. Lynch approved.

He set the docunt down, looked at the pair across from him, and nodded. “No issues. When are you signing?”

A divorce by agreent isn’t the sa as a contested divorce. They just had to go to the Social Services Bureau to complete the paperwork, and that would mark the end of their two-decade-long marriage.

Nail looked at Serra. She kept her lips pressed together. In the end, it was Nail who spoke first.

“How about today? I’ve got a lot to take care of. We’ve just brought in a batch of new equipnt that’s being calibrated—I really can’t stay away.”

The political shift in Nagaryll and the arrival of the Federal military had reassured the Joint Developnt Company and Federal investors. Lynch had also increased his investnts.

Recently, two rough roads had been built, making it possible to transport heavy machinery. Higher-capacity, more efficient equipnt was now being sent to Nagaryll.

The cent factory had received new machines as well—far better than the outdated ones. Nail didn’t feel comfortable leaving them unattended. If it weren’t for the importance of the divorce, he wouldn’t have co back at all.

With that explained, the three of them headed to the Sabin City Social Services Bureau. The staff didn’t recognize Lynch behind his sunglasses, though they did think he was a handso young man and glanced at him a few more tis.

In the Federation, relationships and family matters were extrely private. Even close friends wouldn’t touch on such topics lightly—let alone public servants.

The clerk didn’t try to talk them into reconsidering or cooling off. After confirming their decision, she processed the divorce papers.

The two of them each received a copy of the divorce certificate. As they stood there holding the docunts, both looked sowhat sentintal.

At the entrance, Nail suddenly opened his arms and hugged Serra. He said softly, “I wish you freedom—and happiness, my dear.”

Serra’s eyes welled up. It wasn’t clear whether it was reluctance or sothing else stirring inside her.

They weren’t divorcing out of hatred—their feelings had simply faded. Without bitterness, it was natural for so genuine emotion to surface.

“Thank you. I wish you freedom too, and happiness.”

They let go, just like their blessings: letting each other go, wishing each other freedom.

“I should get going. I’ve got a ticket for tonight,” Nail said, standing on the steps. He felt a sense of relief—and a touch of loss.

Serra nodded. “I won’t try to stop you. I’ll have your things packed up and sent to you—unless you gave a fake address again.”

Nail suddenly felt awkward, but his eyes reddened slightly. He pressed his lips together and smiled.

“This ti it’s real.”

Only the two of them understood what that ant. Back when they had only dated a few tis, they’d crossed the line—Serra had gotten pregnant, but Nail wasn’t ready, so he gave her a fake address.

Life is like a circle, a cycle. After going all the way around, it brings you back to the start—and then, maybe, to a new beginning. Or maybe not.