In the morning, after Lynch had just exchanged over seven thousand bucks of small change, during a call with Mr. Fox, the other party expressed a desire to et to discuss the next steps.
Lynch thought for a while and accepted Mr. Fox's invitation.
Before long, he t Mr. Fox at a sowhat remote farm. Today, Mr. Fox was not wearing expensive clothes but a set of blue-gray denim wear along with rubber overalls.
When Lynch saw him, Mr. Fox was carrying a large stack of hay into the stable. The weather was getting hotter, and the manure from horses, cows, and possibly other animals under the sun emitted a deadly sll, yet Mr. Fox didn't show any signs of discomfort.
After waiting for about seven or eight minutes, Mr. Fox ca out of the stable, apologizing as he did so.
The two of them walked to the shade behind the stable, with Mr. Fox using a hose to wash off the dirt from his rubber overalls while expressing so sentint, "Before I got into this business, both my father and I thought I would beco an outstanding farr!"
His face showed a reminiscent expression. Over twenty years ago, he was not the highly respected Mr. Fox of today, but rather the countryside Fox boy.
That year, he had just been married, and the economic achievents that Bail Federal had accumulated over many years began to explode, leading to rapid developnt in all industries. Many people boasted about the city as if money was scattered everywhere, just waiting for soone to bend down and pick it up, quickly becoming a big boss.
The whole society was filled with such an atmosphere. Mr. Fox also wanted to give his wife and children a better future, so after discussing with his family, he ventured with so buddies to the big city.
Even today, so succeed and are distinguished, while others exist only in people's mories.
Without a doubt, Mr. Fox was one of the lucky ones. That's how people are; once they have so success, they begin to reminisce about the past. So may reminisce because of the pain they're currently in, yearning for those carefree tis.
But so reminisce just to highlight their success today.
Regarding Mr. Fox's reminiscence and his little hobby of working on the farm, Lynch felt the latter might play a larger role, allowing him to find so satisfaction in such a manner.
After rinsing his overalls, and with the help of others, he took off the stifling garnt. He and Lynch aimlessly wandered around the pasture, chatting about so of his thoughts along the way.
"Michael returned to Sabin City around four this morning, you need to be careful, his temper is bad, sotis impulsive, don't give him any chance!"
He said, smiling, "Of course, this is just a small reminder, I believe he is no match for you, you're smarter than him!"
This was valuable information. If Lynch only learned of Michael's return when he saw him, there might be so unexpected troubles. Now that he knew in advance, he had ample ti to prepare for the encounter with Michael.
He had never been intimidated by Michael, a licensed person. If it weren't for the opponent trying to hassle him three tis in a row, he wouldn't have wanted to quarrel with a head of an investigation team.
Seeing Lynch nod seriously, Mr. Fox knew he got the ssage, and then continued, "There are two more things. What I ntioned to you before, now everyone in the city, even from nearby cities, knows how to send money into the banks legally. Do you think this could impact our business?"
"I an, if everyone does this, will our route eventually cease to exist?" He spoke cautiously. Lately, his life had improved significantly. He privately "acquired" two more laundromats and raised their standards.
On his son's advice, he made registered charging receipts. Everyone knows those who can wash clothes for dozens of bucks each in his laundromats are his own people. Yet, until solid evidence is obtained against him, no one can claim his actions are illegal.
He even heard through certain channels so mid-to-high-level opinions on what was happening in Sabin City—the big shots considered it a good thing, as these damn financial companies willing to help also grasped a crucial point: even if their business isn't legal, they must pay taxes.
However, so believe that what they are doing is sowhat non-compliant and granting them this concession amounts to a degree of condoning cri, which ultimately harms the ordinary people who get assistance from them.
So things can be said in private but are hard to beco reality. Ultimately, they will co to stop the recurring "issues" in Sabin City and nearby regions.
"Besides this, I have another issue. How do you think I can legalize my business?" Mr. Fox paused slightly; this is a pressing issue he needed to solve now.
As long as he didn't address this issue, with his return rates clearly exceeding the minimum standards set by the Federation Governnt, he couldn't truly find peace.
His eyes filled with anticipation, closely watching Lynch, who gave an ambiguous smile, then proactively walked forward, with Mr. Fox following right behind.
"The first issue, there's no need to worry, small change cannot be changed, we have many other ways to resolve this part of the problem. You need to know that the pioneers are always ahead of the latecors; they can't catch up with us, so there's no need to worry about that."
"As for the second issue, there currently isn't a good solution. Over the years, there has never been a process that can effectively resolve it. I believe it's not because all the people born in these years are idiots!"
"However, you can learn from the banks' playbook to temporarily resolve so minor troubles..."
Mr. Fox was initially disappointed, but when he heard there was an indirect solution, he imdiately showed interest: "What bank thod?"
"Collateral!" Lynch patted the wooden fence at the edge of the farm, which had stood for more or over a decade yet had beco terribly decayed.
From the surface, it hadn't changed much from the past. Yet when Lynch's hand touched it, it broke imdiately.
The whitish wooden dust fell to the ground. Looking at the completely rotted wood, Lynch's eyes gradually lost focus, as if staring at sothing else altogether.
Mr. Fox didn't disturb him, quietly waiting for about twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight... up to thirty seconds or so until Lynch snapped back to reality.
"Sorry, I drifted off. Where was I?"
"You were suggesting I could use the banks' thod to manage the situation temporarily!"
"Yes, that's it..." He took control of the conversation and continued walking ahead, with Mr. Fox following closely. In the distance, Mr. Fox's son had a peculiar expression as he watched the two of them.
In his eyes, it seed as if his father, the illustrious Mr. Fox, had beco Lynch's assistant, trailing closely behind.
Of course, the parties involved didn't feel this way; he was still listening to Lynch's suggestions.
In fact, the banks had long provided a practical thod; they would discount a hundred-dollar item to fifty as collateral. You could say they were mitigating risks, or you could say they were consuming wealth.
Shorter terms, lower appraisals, paired with seemingly reasonable interest rates, they just disguised their greed quite elegantly.
But for soone like Mr. Fox, who doesn't care about appearances, it's easier to solve.
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