At 9:40, Richard arrived early and sat down in the café.
He chose a spot in the corner near the window where the lighting was excellent, and the glass, almost invisible from the cleaning, offered a clear view of the street.
This spot wasn’t too far from the door leading to the back room, only a few steps away.
He sat facing the main entrance, then fell into a daze.
He thought about many things, both aningful and aningless, like the seat he chose.
Back when he was a salesperson under Lynch, he often went out to eat with Lynch, and Lynch would always choose a seat with a window, back to the wall, facing the door.
Richard found it strange and was very curious. He couldn’t resist asking Lynch about it once.
"Boss, why do you always choose to sit like that?"
Back then, Lynch told him it was safer that way.
Safe?
At the ti, Richard didn’t understand, and Lynch patiently explained that this position allowed you to see who walked in and if there were any others outside.
If a conflict occurred, you wouldn’t have to worry about an attack from behind and could focus solely on the enemies in front.
If you could win the fight, then fight; if not, find a chance to smash the window and escape.
Richard couldn’t help but laugh heartily when he heard this, thinking it must have been a gang mber who told Lynch, as it sounded like a strategy used by criminals.
Richard then asked Lynch why he needed to do this if he had no enemies.
Lynch told him that staying vigilant at all tis was never a foolish thing.
At all tis!
He vaguely recalled the past when Lynch, despite being younger, had a wealth of experience far beyond his own. Sotis, Richard wondered if Lynch only appeared young.
After all, so people look forty or fifty but are actually fifty or sixty.
Soone who looks in their twenties but is actually in their thirties isn’t impossible either.
From high school graduation to entering society, Lynch couldn’t possibly have gained such experience in just two or three years.
Unless he was born with it all.
As his thoughts drifted here, Richard couldn’t help but laugh, realizing he was daydreaming because he wasn’t confident enough in outsmarting Lynch.
Once a person starts doubting themselves, they tend to resort to things like the supernatural to avoid facing their incompetence.
This was also sothing Lynch said.
He shook his head, reaching to touch the gun holster concealed under his clothes, suddenly feeling a sense of security.
Even the Lord can be killed with one shot, so even if Lynch were born divine, he couldn’t escape a bullet.
Ti ticked away, finally reaching ten o’clock.
When the second hand of the clock pointed to 9:59:45, Lynch appeared outside the café.
By the ti he walked through the door, it was 9:50, and as he sat down at the table, it was 9:59:59.
"It seems I am not late," Lynch smiled, "A cup of hand-ground coffee, please."
The waiter turned and left, and Lynch crossed his legs, looking at Richard, "I had sothing going on last night, which I couldn’t explain over the phone. What did you want to discuss?"
Richard’s hand withdrew from his pocket as he took a sip of his coffee. Initially, he was eager to et Lynch, but now, he wasn’t as rushed.
He knew Lynch well, and Lynch was indeed formidable. If he appeared too eager, Lynch might notice sothing off about him.
He recalled Lynch once telling him that by observing details, you could guess a person’s thoughts. He didn’t want to beco the one whose mind was read!
"Soone is selling off shares of the company, hundreds of thousands of shares sold quietly in one day," he slowly put down his coffee cup, then looked up at Lynch.
His tone was very calm, as if he were discussing sothing trivial.
Lynch looked at him with a slight smile, "How are you sure soone is selling and that it’s not just natural market behavior?"
"It’s you, isn’t it?" Richard didn’t answer Lynch’s question because he couldn’t answer it.
Since he couldn’t answer, he chose to respond with a question instead, believing Lynch’s inner thoughts would also shift at that mont. He stared into Lynch’s eyes, trying to detect any emotional fluctuations.
But regrettably, Lynch’s gaze didn’t waver in the slightest.
"Whether it’s or not, what difference does it make to you?"
Richard thought for a mont, then closed his mouth.
Just then, the waiter arrived with Lynch’s coffee and then left.
Lynch took a sip of coffee, a small one, then nodded with satisfaction, "It’s much better than the coffee at the President’s Mansion. You haven’t been there, so you don’t know how awful the coffee is."
Richard chuckled lightly, "Actually, you don’t have to answer , I already know it must have been you who did it. When did it start?"
Lynch pursed his lips, "This question is difficult for to answer. Actually, it started from the last ti we t in the Federation."
"So plans are a bit different from what I imagined. I’m not a god—I can’t predict your every move. You’ve been too high-profile, Richard."
Lynch remained elegant, composed, and calm; the more he acted this way, the more nervous Richard beca, and he had already started to sweat.
Lynch’s deanor and aura gave Richard a terribly frightening feeling, as if he were a bug caught in a spider web, powerless to struggle and watching helplessly as he marched toward ruin.
He swallowed, "Why do you think you can tell what to do?"
His voice rose, "It was the sa before and it’s still the sa now. You always tell I should do this or that, but you never consider things from my perspective!"
In Richard’s view, learning from Lynch’s strengths is just another form of "demand."
Since Lynch wanted him to do it, he had to do it—learning to do things like Lynch.
Lynch now said he was being high-profile. He knew it referred to his initiative to list Yuanrong Capital.
He had his own ideas; this was the best chance to break free from Lynch. As long as he completed this plan, once the fourth-quarter financial reports were released and the stock soared, he could cash in at least over ten million Fla!
With that money, what couldn’t he do?
He wouldn’t have to fear anymore; he could directly confront Lynch, even wrestle with Lynch!
But now Lynch was here accusing him of being too high-profile, and the dissatisfaction inside him erupted instantly.
The café was empty, the sole waiter stood a bit further away, seemingly leaving the space to these two.
"I’m not demanding that you must do anything; I’m rely offering a possibility as a reference. Maybe the thod I suggest is what’s most suitable."
Lynch picked up the stirrer, stirring the coffee slowly, the aroma beginning to emit, "I respect your personal freedom. You can act according to your ideas, it’s fine, that’s your freedom."
"We are Federation people; we can fight for freedom, die for freedom. I respect all your rights."
"But if you have your own ideas, then you cannot prevent from having mine."
"You want to ruin my plans, fine, I didn’t stop you and even helped you, so why are you accusing ?"
Richard’s expression showed a bit of struggle, a bit of snarl. Lynch openly told him this is what he did, and it made him hesitate inside.
Should he really break with Lynch?
Previously, he didn’t feel it, but now facing Lynch, that imnse pressure made him sowhat uncertain about his choice.
Nonetheless, these hesitations were quickly swallowed by anger and other emotions.
If he conceded, he’d never escape Lynch’s shadow all his life. How would his subordinates, his partners, look at him?
They would surely abandon him; he was unwilling to work for others all his life; he wanted to be his own boss.
Clenching his teeth, he looked at Lynch, breathing a bit heavily, "I haven’t lost yet, Lynch."
"This is the first ti you called by na, and without any title," Lynch comnted slightly, then picked up the coffee and took a sip.
Gafura’s coffee beans are roasted for longer than the Federation’s, so the oiliness and aroma can be fully released, without a hint of sourness.
However, the bitterness is significantly amplified; Federation people can tolerate sourness because they judge the freshness of fruit by its acidity, but they cannot tolerate bitterness.
Adding more sugar to coffee than other countries clearly reflects this, making Gafura’s coffee distinctly different from Federation coffee.
"Don’t underestimate people!" Richard’s emotions were once again a bit out of control. He always ca off a bit lower than Lynch; now the more Lynch acted this way, the angrier he beca. His hand even slipped into his pocket, feeling the gun holster through the fabric.
It seed like the only way to make him feel he still had so semblance of control.
Lynch smiled nonchalantly, "Rember, Richard, I taught you about observing details."
Before Richard could say anything, Lynch put down the coffee cup, "From the mont you walked in, I knew you were ard, but I haven’t decided whether you’d use it."
"You don’t know how having a weapon might change our situation, and you don’t need to try because you won’t change anything."
"Right now, at least two guns are aid at your head. If I make a move or you make a dangerous move, bullets will blow your head off."
"You might think you’ve ’grown up,’ like a rebellious teenager calmly facing the world."
"But in my view, you’re still too immature. Tomorrow’s results co from yesterday’s choices!"
"You’ve completed your move, now it’s my turn!"
Lynch smiled, picked up the coffee cup, and drank it all in one go, "Tastes good, but there’s no need for you to treat ." He took out two bucks, pressed them under the saucer, nodded slightly as he stood up to say goodbye.
"Goodbye, Richard!"
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