Chapter 902: Conductor Lynch

“…A company named Light of Tomorrow just announced moments ago that it would assist EveryMoment by repurchasing 20% of its shares. This move has quickly stabilized EveryMoment’s stock price.”

“According to insider sources, the structure of this company is far from simple. Our station will continue to follow this story and provide updates as they come!”

The anchor placed the cue card aside. This was a breaking news insertion. Although she didn’t know why the station director allowed a seemingly insignificant story to interrupt the program, she didn’t care either.

She continued with the regular news broadcast, unaware of the storm that this small piece of news was stirring in the unseen depths of Eminence—and the entire Federation.

If the “hostile acquirers” were seen as the villains, then the strange balance of nature ensured that a force of justice would emerge—those who helped embattled companies resist hostile takeovers and stabilize their stock prices.

If the capital invested by both sides in a takeover were their military strength, then the arrival of reinforcements would naturally raise the cost for the acquirer.

If they failed to meet their acquisition goals, they would immediately abandon the attempt and declare failure.

Not every hostile takeover ends with the villains winning. Sometimes, a knight-like figure rides in to help the struggling company claim final victory.

In this case, when both companies announced they were acquiring EveryMoment—and when everyone thought a change of ownership was inevitable—that knight appeared.

He brought with him over a hundred million in liquidity. For the defending side, this meant the attacker might need to spend two to three times that amount just to keep up.

And those extra billions would be burned for nothing.

What might have cost a million before now took two or even three million due to bidding wars.

Spending that much didn’t make the asset truly worth that amount—it might still only be worth a million.

The more they overpaid, the less promising the post-acquisition returns became. Once the buyers realized their losses would exceed their gains, they’d abandon the deal—opening themselves to joint investigation by the FRC and the FBI.

This was to prevent staged financial fraud—something that happened often in the Federation.

With this new player joining, EveryMoment gained more time. Which meant the takeover could very well fail.

If that happened, and the market returned to rational pricing, its stock would gradually rise again.

After all, this wasn’t just a concept stock or a financial shell—it was a real business. Pure capital maneuvers might shake it, but couldn’t destroy it.

The CEO of EveryMoment also saw the news. But rather than joy, a thoughtful expression crossed his face.

Lynch had told him: if he wanted to reveal who purchased that 20% stake, EveryMoment would have to give him another 5% in return.

Otherwise, the identity of the knight must remain confidential—his mystery must be preserved.

Was that extra 5% worth it?

Publicly revealing Lynch as the knight would no doubt boost stock prices significantly.

After all, it was his suppression that had triggered EveryMoment’s current crisis. If he now appeared as its ally, it would signal reconciliation.

But… 5% was a painful price.

Meanwhile, some viewers watching this news report from their homes showed all kinds of strange expressions.

If their ears weren’t deceiving them, Light of Tomorrow sounded very much like Lynch’s company.

They knew this because they had the foresight to invest in that company while still on the cruise.

Maybe they only owned a tiny fraction—one-thousandth, even ten-thousandth—but an investment is an investment. The amount didn’t matter. What mattered was the return, and this return was something to be proud of.

Some of them instantly realized: if someone exposed the shareholder structure of Light of Tomorrow, this would clearly be seen as a tale of revenge turning into reconciliation.

EveryMoment had paid a steep price—20% of its shares—and then…

Suddenly, some people regretted not investing more back then. If only they’d put in more money… even just to buy 1%!

Holding 1% of Light of Tomorrow was roughly equivalent to holding 0.2% of EveryMoment. Of course, the actual conversion was more complex, but that’s how people simplified it.

If EveryMoment’s market value returned to over a billion, let’s just say a flat billion…

0.2% would be… two million!

There were few investments in the world with a better return. They regretted it.

Some made a little profit, others maybe lost a bit. Not everyone got to buy into Lynch’s company for a million and receive a sizable stake—some only held 0.1%.

Still, it was a successful investment. EveryMoment’s key difference from other companies was its cash return rate.

In Eminence, many called it the cash cow that prints money, referring to its staggering profits and dividends.

They imported cheap tobacco from Marilo and resold it at high prices. The gross profit margin exceeded 2,000%.

With tens of millions in net profit each year, every shareholder earned handsomely.

This small, previously overlooked shell company—meant only to avoid legal liability—was suddenly worth 250 million?

It seemed…

Lynch also saw the news. He casually answered a call—it was from an elderly tycoon.

He remembered the man well: experienced, composed in danger, and always the gentleman.

At the time, Lynch couldn’t find a single flaw in his behavior. The man didn’t care about the million he invested; he only cared about getting himself and his wife off the ship safely.

He had even invited Lynch to visit their estate after disembarking—his wife would personally cook for him.

How unique.

Lynch had promised to visit. The old couple had smiled as they handed him the check.

A pair of classic rich folks—exactly how people imagined the word tycoon.

“Mr. Lynch, I saw the news. My hearing hasn’t been great lately, so I’m not sure if I heard it right. I’ve sent someone to the TV station to retrieve that cue card.”

Through the receiver, the old man’s slightly rambling voice came through, accompanied by his wife’s chatter in the background, urging him to keep things brief so he wouldn’t annoy the younger man.

“You didn’t mishear. Yes, it’s our company.”

Lynch deliberately used the words our company, which made the old man burst out laughing.

“When I was going through the worst, you brought me luck again. I’m in Eminence now. When are you coming over? I’ll have… prepare something delicious for you.”

By her, he meant his wife, who could still be heard chiding him nearby. She was saying that no young people nowadays wanted to spend time with the elderly, and he shouldn’t talk like that.

The couple had gone on the cruise simply because they were old and had nothing better to do—just looking for a bit of excitement.

That’s how people were. Once they got old, they became disliked by the younger generation.

Young people thought they were too slow, unclear in speech, stuck in outdated thinking… forgetting they would one day grow old themselves.

Shunned by the young, the elderly had to find their own fun.

In a way, Lynch was also an old man himself—he understood. So he agreed immediately.

“No problem. Just send me your address. If nothing unexpected comes up, we might see each other tonight.”

The old man’s cheerful voice came through the receiver, “See? I’m not annoying at all—Mr. Lynch agreed to come!”

“Oh my, I need to go get ingredients right away…”

He laughed for a while. “There must be a lot of people wanting to talk to you now. I won’t take up more of your time. See you tonight.”

The moment Lynch hung up, the phone rang again.

“Mr. Lynch, I’m… I just saw the news. I didn’t know who to ask, and I thought maybe you could help me understand a few things?”

“Mr. Lynch!”

“Hey, if you still remember…”

Call after call came in, all asking about the same matter. Many people pulled out their contracts and started reviewing them. Aside from a few unlucky ones who’d lost their copies, most found several key clauses.

For example, shareholders could freely increase or decrease their holdings—they could buy shares from each other or sell them.

But there was a restriction: all transactions had to remain internal—no external deals were allowed.

In plain terms, shareholders could only trade with other shareholders. If they sold to outsiders, they automatically forfeited their voting rights.

Shares, shareholders—without voting rights, were they even shareholders?

Beyond this minor issue, a deeper question arose: how had EveryMoment, a company once airtight and impenetrable, been cracked open by Light of Tomorrow?

It was about to gain dozens of new shareholders. If handled properly, they might even seize more equity—possibly enough to replace the current CEO and become the largest stakeholder in EveryMoment.

The number of shares didn’t matter.

What mattered was—they already had their tickets.