Chapter 897: Hope You Have Mr. Lynch’s Number

Whether the senator was bold or interested in finance—Lynch didn’t care, nor did he need to.

There was no way the senator didn’t understand what he was doing by holding Lynch back for so long, only to suddenly relent now. It clearly had to do with the increase in military orders.

The military had just won a significant victory, securing its position as the world’s top naval power. Its influence and power were expanding rapidly.

According to statistics, five years ago the military’s annual budget was only a few hundred million, and Congress rejected over 60% of their requests, citing concerns about provoking international tensions. It was believed that strengthening the military would make foreign allies uneasy, so most of the proposed funding was denied.

But this year, just the approved naval budget alone had already exceeded a billion—clear evidence of the military’s explosive growth in power and influence.

Opposing what the military urgently wants today might mean the Military Intelligence Bureau starts digging into the senator’s dirty laundry tomorrow.

Technically, federal law prohibits any kind of investigation into sitting officials. But anyone who’s truly familiar with the law would know it only applies within a certain jurisdiction.

The restriction covers agencies like the FBI, Federal Police, Federal Security Committee, Homeland Security, IRS, etc.—but it does not include the Military Intelligence Bureau or the internal investigation departments of the Army and Navy. They are not bound by that law.

Normally, the military wouldn’t initiate investigations into officials—they have no reason to.

But that’s not the same as being unable to. They can, they just usually don’t. That distinction matters.

If the Military Intelligence Bureau believes the senator poses a serious threat to national security, they can launch an investigation at any time.

It may end up being a false alarm, but in the process, they might uncover other issues—like abuse of power or corruption.

These charges might be laughable in countries like Gephra, but in the Federation, they’re enough to destroy a senator’s career.

The senator, who often dealt with the military, surely knew this. That’s why he was so eager to get on the right side of things before the truth came out.

That’s also why Lynch didn’t offer him anything material—just a bit of insider news. That was his message:

If you want a reward, take a gamble.

Back at home, the senator was weighing the pros and cons. Meanwhile, the CEO of EveryMoment was enduring the slow torture of time, each second dragging by like a saw cutting through his soul.

The company’s assets had shrunk drastically. Worse, some shareholders reported being approached in private by people looking to buy their shares.

His personal advisors also warned him about unusual trading activity. A large number of scattered accounts had been quietly sweeping up shares. Though they tried to make it look like normal trading, it clearly violated market patterns.

In short, someone was trying to amass enough shares—both public and private—to launch a takeover.

Takeovers between capital forces are never simple, contrary to what clueless outsiders might believe.

They’re extremely complex, involving many factors, with capital being the most critical.

If a listed company is worth 1 billion, a hostile takeover would require at least 1.3 billion in capital—at minimum.

Analysts would advise anyone attempting such a move to prepare 2 billion, and even then, success isn’t guaranteed.

That’s because most listed companies have a buyback clause. It’s part of the original shareholder agreements.

In the event of a hostile takeover, the board has the right to repurchase shares at a premium price—usually no less than 30% above market value.

So if a company is worth 1 billion, they would need 1.3 billion just to buy back enough stock to maintain control. To force a takeover, you’d need even more.

EveryMoment’s annual profits were well-known, which made investors’ eyes light up—but no one had been able to do much.

That’s because a large portion of the shares—40% to 50%—were secretly controlled by the chairman, hidden behind layers of proxies. Though no individual appeared to hold more than 20%, the chairman pulled all the strings.

Federation-based shareholders had little interest in selling. Companies with consistent profits like this were rare, and no one wanted to part with their shares.

So the only way in was through the open market: buying up public shares until hitting the 3% threshold, then declaring a takeover bid.

But EveryMoment’s valuation was high. As soon as the public caught wind of a takeover attempt, stock prices would skyrocket on their own. Investors would raise the price even without the chairman lifting a finger.

Buying billions’ worth of shares might still not get someone to majority control. Even if they joined the board, they’d face stock dilution and new issuances.

In other words, someone might spend 800 million to over a billion just to get less than 20%—barely enough to be called a major shareholder—and still be firmly under the control of the Marilo group.

People had been envious for years—but powerless.

Now, things had changed.

Lynch’s press conference had become the starting gun for a full-on assault. With the stock price crashing, capital once again smelled blood and began tearing into EveryMoment, each bite leaving it weaker.

Now, investors didn’t want to push the price up—they just wanted out. They wished their shares had grown legs and run. If they priced them too high, nobody would buy. No one was interested in helping EveryMoment defend itself anymore.

At first, EveryMoment hadn’t realized the danger. The shares were being scooped up through many small accounts. Under federal law, if a single account accumulates more than 3% of total shares, it must file documentation.

That documentation must clarify whether the purchase is for normal investment purposes or part of a takeover plan.

If it’s a takeover, it must further clarify whether it’s a friendly or hostile one.

If it’s a friendly acquisition, the acquiring company or individual must sit down with EveryMoment to negotiate, then release a public announcement explaining the situation.

If it’s hostile, the Financial Regulatory Commission will activate the hostile takeover protocol, monitoring both parties’ actions to ensure the interests of ordinary shareholders aren’t harmed.

Hostile takeovers proceed in stages. Once initiated, they can’t be halted easily—doing so could trigger an investigation for disrupting the financial market order.

Because of this, in most cases, early stages of capital warfare show little sign of conflict.

Before the real fight begins, both sides endure in silence, carefully preparing every step.

A rapid increase in trading volume is one signal. Large-scale purchases through small accounts is another. Spotting these requires constant monitoring and analysis.

Once these buyers accumulate enough shares, they consolidate them into a single account. If that account passes the 3% or even 5% threshold, they immediately launch the takeover.

Combined with the recent reports of internal shareholders being approached, it’s clear someone intends to swallow EveryMoment in one move.

This is the weakest moment in EveryMoment’s history.

With its market value plunging and its credit rating downgraded, the company can’t even get a bank loan.

But that’s to be expected. Banks never lend money to those who desperately need it—they can’t afford the interest, and they can’t repay the principal.

Banks lend to those who don’t need money—who can afford both the interest and the principal.

EveryMoment is clearly not that kind of borrower. In fact, the portion of the company previously treated as a bank investment is now being reclassified as debt.

Banks are used to this—turning loans into equity during boom periods, and turning equity back into debt during downturns. Either way, they never lose.

“Mr. President, today’s trading volume has started to decline. We don’t have much time left.”

The CEO looked haggard, reeking of alcohol. “Why do you say that?”

The analyst pushed up his glasses. “A drop in trading volume means circulating shares are drying up. Some have already landed in their hands. Others have caught on and are waiting it out.”

“Isn’t that a good thing for us?” he asked, his sluggish brain trying to reason that at least these people couldn’t buy many more shares.

The analyst shook his head. “It means our opponents are nearly ready to launch their full-scale attack.”

“If you can’t come up with a solution, we’re likely to lose a lot of ground.”

That sobered the CEO almost instantly. He looked at the analyst and asked, “Then what should I do?”