"What benefits do you want?"
This question... actually happened quite suddenly. Asking for benefits was just instinctive, unrelated to any plan or strategy. Truman’s counter-question left Lynch montarily unsure of what benefits to ask for.
Money?
Let’s not even discuss whether Congress would agree to allocate so money to Lynch as so sort of compensation; how much to give is a problem in itself.
Giving too little makes the whole thing seem trivial, might as well not ask.
Giving too much, the President might not agree, and might even think Lynch is a petty and greedy person.
So money, can’t ask for that.
Land?
This seems like a good idea, but in reality, it’s the least valuable option.
The Federation’s lands are privately owned, aning the Federation Governnt can only offer land that doesn’t belong to anyone, like downtown areas, which are impossible for private hands to acquire.
What they can offer Lynch is worthless land, land outside the cities.
That land is not only worthless but also requires bearing different job positions and paying property taxes, unclear whether it’s a gain or a loss.
Valuable land is truly land, worthless land is just waste!
Tax exemption?
This might be a practical benefit, but the Federation Governnt can’t grant too much exemption.
Giving too much tax exemption might cause discontent; if soone reports it to the dia, public opinion and hype will quickly make a story of power collusion.
Many people would suffer as a result, including Lynch and Truman. So, what should be the best ask?
Using the experience of two lifetis, Lynch thought for half a minute before giving an answer.
"I want a license, an insurance industry license."
Truman didn’t hesitate too long, "I’ll discuss this with the President, if nothing unexpected happens, there shouldn’t be a problem."
In the Federation, opening an insurance company doesn’t actually require a license; insurance companies, like other private enterprises, just need to register with the Social Services Bureau.
However, this involves a funding regulation issue; simply put, unlicensed insurance companies are like street-corner solicitors.
You don’t know what they really look like, nor what kind of service you get for your money; maybe the whole experience might be terrible.
But with a license, it indicates the company is under the supervision of the Federal Financial Managent Commission, it’s guaranteed, akin to soliciting in a high-end venue.
Before hiring her services, you can even view her everyday life and candid photos, health reports, and other details through a catalogue.
And if anything goes wrong during the hired service, there’s relative assurance.
Of course, just relatively.
Every two years, the Federation ranks licensed insurance companies without concern for order, sounds a bit convoluted and contradictory, but it’s not important.
Because it’s really not important, client satisfaction can be manipulated easily.
As long as the money is right, connections set, even insurance companies with no clients can rank first.
Lynch thought about the next phase of work, combining loans and insurance—no one regulates that insurance companies can’t review and approve personal loans.
With social developnt and evolution, people’s incos are bound to rise, more people will spend a little money to buy insurance.
This is a booming market; now is just the right ti to enter.
Of course, the premise, like all premises, is that you have money.
"You know, Truman, I am a noble person, sacrificing so personal dignity for national benefit isn’t a big deal." Lynch shifted the tone, becoming a bit shaless.
"What else do I need to prepare? I was planning to experint with so new things, but it seems unlikely I can participate."
In mainstream countries, everyone is researching airplanes, including dostic factories, studying how to successfully take off, land, fly further, carry more weight, and pose a threat to ground units.
Lynch has secretly urged the research institute to shift to developing ways to shoot down other people’s planes.
The airplane craze will inevitably lead to changes in the entire military field; at this point, Lynch is already one step ahead, ready to expand his advantage.
He’s even secretly registered a patent nad "Synchronization Coordinator," secretly enough that the registering lawyer and Social Services Bureau Patent Office people don’t know what it is or its value.
Besides, so other things are also being studied or prepared for experintation. These are secret weapons; if Gafura or other countries send military observers, these will remain hidden.
Truman was also contemplating this issue, "I heard you discussed this with them, and I know so are considering these matters."
"I’ll help you coordinate with the Ministry of Defense, they can et with you later to discuss what’s feasible to disclose and what’s not."
"I must remind you, Gafura’s planes are said to have taken off."
Leaked plane secrets are a sore point for the Ministry of Defense and Security Committee; while each nation has planes, it’s the Federation that first applies them to the military domain, with relatively mature technology from the start.
Like submarines, this will change the pattern and mode of warfare.
Just as their conversation was about to end, Truman reminded once more, "By the way, the funding needed for the overseas military base construction plan is fully in place; you can start preparing."
"You should discuss these things with the Ministry of Defense people, they’ll provide more detailed information..."
Hearing this news indeed surprised Lynch; approval took over half a year, mainly because these matters aren’t too sensitive or high-level, but costly.
This also ans he can madly construct across the East Ocean and Atlantic Ocean, another good news, strengthening his connection with the Military.
After hanging up, Lynch called Nell, glad he hadn’t returned to Nagariel yet.
Mainly, the weather is too hot; Nagariel lies near the Equatorial, currently like a furnace.
Moreover, it’s not just hot; it’s humid and suffocating, only when temperatures drop at month’s end, Nell will return with his wives.
Wives, such a word that evokes envy and resentnt, one of the joys of having money.
With Lynch’s call, Nell quickly arrived; he looked better than ever, wearing trendy clothes, appearing more youthful.
"What’s so urgent?" he asked as he settled on the sofa, casually lighting a cigarette.
Recently, he’s been thinking about too many things, smoking more heavily than usual.
Lynch gave him a big trouble; on one hand hesitating to refuse, while genuinely considering for himself and his children.
Lynch also sat beside the sofa, "How many employees does the company currently have?"
Nell paused, "About twenty thousand."
This count isn’t much, yet absolutely not too little, any enterprise with twenty thousand employees is seen as a giant in the Federation, but in Nagariel...
A month’s salary may cost less than a million, a few hundred thousand should suffice.
Lynch nodded indifferently, "Continue recruitnt later, aim to hire another twenty thousand by year’s end."
Nell showed surprise, holding the cigarette, "So many people?"
"Can I ask why? We don’t need that many people currently."
Lynch casually explained, "I’ve negotiated so projects with the Ministry of Defense. Soon our construction sites will span deep islands across the two oceans."
The ability to comnce work implies the ability to earn; already infiltrated by capital, excitent appeared on Nell’s face, "How much can we earn from this deal?"
"A lot!" Lynch didn’t provide an exact figure, simply repeating, "A lot!"
Nell clenched his fist, "I’ll book a return ticket right away. If no more issues, I’ll leave tomorrow or the day after."
Lynch didn’t oppose, Nell couldn’t sit still any longer, so left Lynch imdiately to return ho.
Upon entering, three young wives rushed to greet him, took his shoes, hung his clothes, brought a washbasin and towel, even so iced water to wash away the heat.
This is life!
Possibly because he’s now wealthy, he has started acting more like a husband and a fresh father.
In his marriage with Serra, it was mostly dealing with, coping with, coping with days of identical height, gradually corroding despair made him irritable.
That’s why he would hit Lynch, sotis even use cold violence on Serra.
He never felt proud as books describe about being a husband or father; only deep exhaustion and hopelessness.
Violence and cold violence were his sole way to relieve pressure.
But now it’s different; he has money, life’s pressures have vanished, he can face life lightly and positively.
Like now, he would engage with the young wives, smiling easily while chatting about past events.
Instead of sitting at the dilapidated dining table, slamming it in frustration, demanding why the damned dinner hadn’t arrived.
Externally observed, a family, harmonious and happy!
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