"The riot is continuing to ferment..."

In Provincial Governor Drag's house, people were gathered together chatting, it looked like a leisurely afternoon tea party.

However, compared to the composure of the Provincial Governor and people like Lynch, the faces of others were more or less filled with expressions of fear.

Reporting the situation outside was the local Police Chief. Considering the impending riot, the Police Chief had already arranged for the police to be stationed around the Governor's Mansion before the riot even started, which seemed quite normal.

After all, the Provincial Governor is the highest administrative officer in Mengwu Province; anyone could run into trouble, except His Excellency the Governor.

"The crowds that have formed have already impacted the living areas of most foreigners locally, and the affluent areas have also been affected to some extent. They've destroyed some shops in commercial districts, looted their contents, and set fires..."

As the Police Chief spoke these words, he felt a sensation within himself he couldn't quite describe. He himself was a member of a clan, though his position within that clan was rather awkward, leading to him being assigned to Drag's side as the Police Chief of the provincial city.

He was also a member of the ruling class. When he heard about the so-called 'third ruling class' of foreigners suffering this calamity, he felt some pleasure in his heart, and he had secretly glanced at Lynch and other foreigners earlier.

But more so, there was a kind of terror, something ruthless hidden deep in his eyes. Once the ban is lifted, he intends to make some people understand, this is not the free Federation, this is Nagariel, where everything must heed the will of the lords and the Lord.

The lords before the Lord!

The sight of the peasants raising their fists frightened the Police Chief. Whenever he remembered his past bravado of using a baton to disperse the peasants alone, he'd break out in a cold sweat.

If one person had stood against him and pushed him to the ground, he would have quickly been torn to pieces by those peasants.

If they dare attack these foreigners today, who knows if they will attack the domestic ruling class tomorrow; this trend cannot be encouraged, it must be ruthlessly dampened.

Lynch noticed the subtle changes in the Police Chief's expression. He raised his wine glass, turned around, and faced more foreigners in the room, "Ladies and gentlemen, I am deeply outraged upon hearing these news."

"Building civilization requires building brick by brick to create grand structures, but destroying it only takes one savage catastrophe. I propose, and initially donate... one hundred thousand Federation Sol, to rescue and assist those who have suffered loss, lost loved ones, and require help in this catastrophe!"

Provincial Governor Drag may not be very cultured, but his sense of smell and political sensitivity are high. Such people, who have emerged from the era of brutal struggle, even if they seem dumb at times, are never truly stupid.

He quickly followed up, "I also donate ten million Galil to help those in need."

The two exchanged a glance, their faces solemn, but both saw a kind of tacit... smile in each other's eyes.

With Lynch leading and the Governor following closely, this was no longer a "proposal" or "initiative," but a donation drive. Every foreigner's eyes in the room darted around, their minds stirred rapidly, trying to analyze something useful from it.

"I donate twenty thousand Federation Sol...", the third was young Fox, and people's gaze turned to him.

Actually, no one in this room was poor; everyone could afford to donate more or less, but they were unsure of the nature of this donation or what they could gain from it.

It's unlike the Federation's charitable donations, where donating a certain amount would result in a larger tax exemption return from the Federation to the philanthropists. If not for some unseen restrictive rules, they might have donated their entire year's tax - in that case, they would need neither to pay taxes nor expect rebates or subsidies from the Tax Bureau or City Hall.

Here, donations are another matter; what benefits do they gain from donating, and if there's no benefit, how much is appropriate to donate?

They all waited, waiting for someone to step up and point them in the right direction, waiting for Lynch to explain more detailed content.

Young Fox promptly stood up, sparing Lynch quite some trouble. Lynch nodded slightly, then looked at the others, "Mr. Fox has already donated twenty thousand Federation Sol, is there no one else among us who possesses international spirit?"

It was then that the second person stood up, someone unexpected.

Penny walked to the forefront, staring directly at Lynch, and subtly raised an eyebrow, "I will donate all of my personal earnings to help those in need!"

Lynch was somewhat surprised. In his mind, Penny seemed more like a "Preenkap"; she was too young, had not received higher-level education, and her family background... he hadn't detailedly understood it, seemed to come from a Middle-Class family, neither opulent nor impoverished.

Girls from such families, if they don't pursue higher education, can only assume roles as "vases" or what Lynch considers "Preenkap". They won't possess profound political sophistication, yet this time, Penny's actions surprised Lynch.

He had already planned how to guide the reporters to write the article, to tell the Nagariel people that Federations are different from those foreigners before.

Look, we even voluntarily donate, even the independent women donate, and whether it's those foreigners or locals, they can all enjoy the benefits brought by this donation.

Just when people were hesitating, two gunshots suddenly rang out from outside the house, followed by a dozen more. The Police Station Director jolted and turned to go outside to understand the situation.

Lynch acted as if he hadn't heard anything, his expression unchanged. He looked at those a bit startled people, and showed a smile, "Miss Penny's charitable heart is touching, I believe this deed will return to the country, and surely more people will become your fans."

Lynch's voice pulled everyone's attention away from the outside, where silence had settled more suffocatingly. He laughed nonchalantly, "Ladies and gentlemen, don't be afraid, I guarantee with my personality, as long as they are my friends, they won't be harmed!"

A thirty-something young merchant suddenly seemed to realize something, he rushed forward, raising his hand, loudly shouting, "Mr. Lynch, I donate... I donate five thousand!", his expression struggling a bit, he added, "This is all the money I can muster now, but I believe someone needs help more than I do!"

Lynch's expression softened, he even reached out his hand to shake the gentleman's hand, "Your kindness moves the Lord, thank you very much for your donation. If you have financial issues, you can talk to Director Jogriman of Golden Exchange Bank. Mention me, and he will surely be glad to discuss solving your problems!"

In fact, these young merchants are no different from Simon and those people who've turned into ghosts; they can't find opportunities at home, can't get orders, are on the verge of bankruptcy. Their only way out is to heed the calls from the government and the Consortium to come to Nagariel for opportunities.

They are not like Lynch, Pato, or Mr. Wardrick, the rich men for whom tens of thousands or hundreds of thousands are not money.

Five thousand dollars is all his savings, he left no way back for himself, coming from the Federation to a strange place to do business, how is it not gambling?

Now, gamble bigger, he gambles everything he has, and he wins too.

As long as the bank is willing to give him money, he can soon establish factories here, then continuously produce cheap goods for export worldwide.

Over this half a month, these people have roughly figured out how to make money here, it's basically like free labor can save them unimaginable costs!

Employing a hundred workers in the Federation, including all expenses for eating, drinking, and living, no matter how they perform, they must pay them at least no less than twenty-five thousand dollars in salary and other expenses every month.

Even if the factory is losing money, this money can't be saved, or they will seek aid from the Workers' Union, retrieve their share through legal means, and get more penalties.

To maintain workers' expenditure, if a factory has monthly sales of a hundred thousand, the Factory Owner must ensure a gross profit of over forty percent because besides workers, there are other expenses, depreciation, etc., but what's the product that can maintain such high gross profit while continuing to sell smoothly? (Non-mechanized production, a production mode with humans as the main productive force, one reason driving mechanized production)

None!

But it's different here, the freed-up profit space allows them to make a lot of money even producing things that don't turn a profit in the Federation, they're actually earning the wages of the laborers here.

The larger the factory, the more employees it has; without considering more profit points, even if there's only less than ten percent gross profit, they can still make big gains!

If the bank can give loans, he is not afraid to take as much as given, because everyone knows the more loans given, the more workers they hire, the more profit the factory generates!

This place is filled with enormous profiteering!

The merchant held by Lynch's hand beamed joy on his face, unable to dissipate the smile, his cheekbones elevated, his brows slightly raised, the muscles uncontrollably formed a "smile."

"Mr. Lynch, thank you so much, the excitement in my heart can hardly be described with words..." he bent his waist but still gripped Lynch's hand tightly, expressing his surging emotions.

Lynch's demeanor remained so calm, with a slight understanding smile on his face, somewhat reserved but inherently proud; he seemed like a King, Emperor, even a deity able to govern others' fates, sitting high on the cloud, watching mortals express their joys and sorrows below the steps of his divine throne.

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①, Plain Cape, a widely applicable and meaningful life alternative.

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