Chapter 889: The Solution

With a loud bang, Lime trembled violently, the steel wires restraining him digging painfully into his flesh.

It hurt terribly.

A heavily hairy man violently broke Lime’s left leg and wildly smashed everything around him with a baseball bat.

If not for Lime’s screams snapping him out of it, he might have killed him.

The CEO of EveryMoment was gasping for breath. His brother had just called, telling him that if he couldn’t resolve the situation here, he’d have to return.

Return?

What a joke.

Is Marilo a place for decent people?

Compared to the killers who could jump out from anywhere at any moment, the Federation was where the elite belonged.

More importantly—power.

If he returned, he’d lose all the power he held. His nephews, who had long disliked him, wouldn’t give him a chance to regain it. He and his brother had plenty of unresolved conflicts.

They just hadn’t surfaced yet. After all, he was doing well in the Federation, so there was no excuse to trouble him.

But this time, it was hard to resist his brother.

“Tell me—does Lynch have ties with those people?” He glanced sideways at Lime, tied to a chair. He knew Lime was Lynch’s partner.

In the Federation, with enough money, no information was unreachable.

For example, who was shorting EveryMoment.

The exchange had even given him a name. Though he was now CEO of EveryMoment Group in the Federation, at heart, he was still a Mallory.

Mallory’s genes carried brutality. When they ruled Marilo, they suppressed and massacred the locals at will, believing themselves descendants of gods granted special privileges.

Now, in anger and fear, he shed his civilized façade and revealed his true nature.

He didn’t consider civilized solutions—he had Lime kidnapped and tortured.

His only goal was to prove Lynch’s involvement in the hijacking. If he could, he’d shift the blame.

Whether Lynch or someone else.

But what could Lime know? He wasn’t even a core member of Lynch’s group, just a partner—like Richard, who had “committed suicide” recently.

“I don’t know! Lynch never told me anything. He just asked me to open short positions against EveryMoment. That’s all!” Lime shouted hysterically.

This bastard had tortured him for three days, all to find out why he and Lynch were shorting EveryMoment, and whether they were involved in the hijacking.

Lime himself didn’t know. He didn’t even understand why Lynch thought EveryMoment would collapse.

If not for blind trust, he might suspect Lynch wanted to vanish his fortune to give back to society.

Shorting a company everyone thought would slowly grow was beyond reckless—pure foolishness.

But he succeeded. Even Lime began to wonder if this was Lynch’s plan.

Federation capitalists had no integrity or morals. In Duncan family’s early wild expansion, competitors often met strange fates.

People went missing on outings, only to be found half-eaten in bear dens, or suffered accidents—falling objects, fires, drowning.

As long as returns were high enough, staging a horrifying kidnapping wasn’t unthinkable.

The CEO of EveryMoment paced like a wounded beast, tearing at his hair. His madness was clear in his eyes, frightening Lime into silence, forcing him to grit his teeth through the pain.

After several steps, he stopped, pointed at Lime, and said, “Don’t let me find out you’re involved, or else…” He tapped his finger, then turned and left.

Now wasn’t the time to waste on this loser. He’d have killed Lime if it helped, but killing him would cause more trouble.

It was 9 p.m. He returned to his room, ready to call a senator he’d arranged to speak with. He needed strong backing. Several senators would be good.

Whether or not the Federation launched a security investigation into EveryMoment, these senators would protect him from excessive attacks.

If he could hold on, with Federation consumers’ loyalty to Klover, the company’s value would soon rebound.

But after fifteen minutes, no call came. He had to call the senator himself. The senator’s wife answered.

“Sorry, sir. My husband hasn’t returned yet. Maybe he’s still working?”

“Maybe call later, or leave a message. I’ll tell him when he’s back.”

The senator stood beside his wife, nodding subtly, encouraging her lie.

The CEO knew they were dodging him.

He also understood this involved hundreds of wealthy people. No ordinary senator could contain it.

It wasn’t just a few people to charm with favors—there were hundreds.

After hanging up, the senator’s face showed worry, not optimism.

This was the dilemma most senators faced—when partnerships soured and cooperation broke down, how to respond?

Millions were deposited into their accounts annually. Though legal, if exposed, angry citizens wouldn’t send them to jail but would strip their positions.

Without their senator status, what was the point of living?

They were stuck—help or not, worried the other side might go mad and spill secrets. Being a senator wasn’t easy.

“Anyone who calls these days gets told I’m not here. Remember that…”

On the other end of the line, the CEO raised the phone high and then slammed it heavily onto the ground. But the anger inside him quickly deflated like a burst balloon.

He collapsed onto the sofa, face drawn, truly overwhelmed this time.

Just then, the phone rang faintly. Startled, he hurriedly picked up the fallen phone, hung up, and answered it again.

“It’s me…”

“…CEO, please go to the second public phone booth east of your community gate within five minutes. Someone will call you there.”

The strange message made the CEO suspicious. “Who is this?”

The caller seemed unwilling to answer. “Remember, you have five minutes from now. If you don’t answer within five minutes, we will have no further contact.”

As the call ended, the phone disconnected. After a moment’s hesitation, the CEO decided to try.

He had no options. Lynch and hundreds of furious billionaires were unstoppable.

If he returned home, his brother would likely place him under house arrest. After all, he had destroyed the company’s income. He was a criminal.

He quickly grabbed a coat, called his bodyguards, and drove out of the community to find the phone booth.

With just over a minute to spare, he stood outside the booth silently smoking a cigarette.

The bodyguards began searching nearby hiding spots, wary of traps or attacks.

At exactly five minutes, the phone rang abruptly, sending a ripple of shock through him.

He paused two seconds, opened the booth door, stepped in, and answered.

“It’s me.”

“Hello, CEO. This is Lynch.”

For a moment, his mind went blank. He didn’t understand why Lynch was contacting him now, nor what to say. So he stayed silent.

“You seem surprised by my call, but it’s nothing serious.”

“I’ll be straightforward to avoid your wild guesses ruining possible cooperation.”

“I want to acquire no less than twenty percent of EveryMoment’s shares…”

The CEO gasped, instinctively protesting, “That’s impossible…”

Then, as if realizing something, he laughed bitterly, anger and cruelty lacing his voice.

“You said those things in front of the media. You had people short EveryMoment just for this moment, right?”

“Acquiring shares?”

“Do you know that if I expose your plan now, a lot will change?”

Lynch’s voice held no emotion, no change in tone.

“I won’t admit it, and I’ll increase pressure on EveryMoment. I heard your declared tobacco products and raw materials every year are far less than actual imports…”

Just like Lime didn’t know what Lynch was thinking, Lynch himself was unclear on the details but knew Federation capitalists well.

Austin and Lynch had mentioned border smuggling before; she’d worked on the border anti-smuggling team and knew some of the inside stories.

But these weren’t really secrets—just unspoken rules, hovering between legal and illegal.