"Your auction cannot be held as scheduled..."
When Lynch heard this sentence, he recalled some TV dramas he had watched before, where the last line of the episode aired the day before never matched the content of the review at the beginning of the next day’s episode, creating a sense of abruptness.
It’s like a cow with a horse’s face, creating a serious sense of dissonance, his TV series shouldn’t be , this isn’t what’s in the script.
Of course, he didn’t get angry either, he just looked at the person across the desk, maintaining his professional attitude, smiling, "Mr. Ferrari, can you tell me why this is?"
He repeated, "Why can’t my auction be held on time? Perhaps we can solve this problem."
Ferrari was somewhat satisfied with Lynch’s response; he had expected Lynch to get angry, say some offensive words, or even rush over with fists. He was prepared for these, but Lynch didn’t do any of that.
He maintained calm and rational discussion to find a solution, such a person always gives a reliable impression, even if you don’t like him, you won’t hate him too much.
Ferrari nodded slightly, "This is precisely why I came here. According to state laws and city regulations, any gathering over fifty people in a public place requires prior application to the Social Services Bureau. Mr. Lynch, you seem to have forgotten..." He pressed his lips together and showed a regretful expression, corners downturned.
It was clearly meant to be a sad expression, yet Lynch, and indeed everyone, could sense that he was actually smiling, an inner expression, which reflects the peculiar nature of people.
What people see cannot interfere with their inner subjective feeling, it’s like a piece of chocolate made into crap, the eyes can’t sway subjective idealist judgment.
Those who really tasted it weren’t swayed by their eyes, but because they sincerely wanted to eat it, even if it was actual crap.
Looking at Ferrari’s "smile," Lynch knew it wasn’t that much trouble. "I truly wasn’t aware of such regulations, I thought only parades and demonstrations required prior application."
"Assemblies too!" Ferrari supplemented again, then lifted his wrist to glance at his watch, "There’s less than one hour until the Social Services Bureau closes, but this application requires at least a week’s advance. Your auction is scheduled for tomorrow, there’s no time."
Lynch pursed his lips and pondered for a moment, then asked a question unrelated to this matter, "Mr. Ferrari, as you can see, my company, including myself, lacks full understanding of certain things that might be common sense..."
Ferrari nodded slightly, though it’s not quite common sense, but can’t be considered esoteric knowledge either.
The atmosphere in Bail Federation is rather... liberal, at least that’s what the Federation Government claims, everyone has the right to organize assemblies, many people have organized such activities, yet some still don’t understand these things.
Different regions have varied laws and regulations, for example, in some areas urinating cannot splash, singing in the shower is prohibited, if reported to the police you’ll be arrested.
In certain places, you must whistle while urinating outside to alert others there’s someone here excreting, avoiding misunderstanding, omission leads to arrest...
Different local laws and regulations can make most people in the Federation confused. Doing something here may comply with regulations, but doing the same thing after a bus ride may lead to arrest.
Sometimes people recognize the uncertainty within and consult the Social Services Bureau, although attitudes and processes there are slow, hence more people consult lawyers.
Making money on "common sense" refers to some low-end law firms, often not appearing in court but helping clients with daily issues.
Lynch smiled, "Thank you very much for coming to remind me, Mr. Ferrari, this prevents significant trouble, and I also came up with a new idea, perhaps you’re interested."
Ferrari displayed suitable curiosity, honestly, since entering the room until now, the initiative has been firmly grasped by this young man.
In Ferrari’s prediction before arrival, regardless of Lynch’s reaction, outrage, or otherwise, the initiative would instantaneously shift, allowing him to firmly grasp the conversation’s control, directing its pace and direction.
The plan was perfect, much like Lynch’s plan was perfect, with only a small surprise, Lynch didn’t get angry, nor outraged, nor did he sigh, calm as though uninvolved, and he still held the initiative, attempting to assert conversational power, altering Ferrari’s attitude towards Lynch.
He can look down on a young man with little cunning, since he can easily manipulate such people, but he can’t underestimate an intelligent person with execution strength, who knows when the other might drop a stone into his hand and then tickle him.
"Go ahead..." He not only adjusted his attitude but also his posture, showing respect for Lynch.
Lynch smiled again, "Your arrival made me realize I need a consultant, someone to assist in work and identify overlooked errors, helping me tackle details."
He opened his hands, "Perhaps Mr. Ferrari you know, my business has just begun, knowing few in Sabin City, yet the Lord is merciful..."
Ferrari frowned, realizing what Lynch was about to say, then Lynch spoke what he guessed, "If you don’t mind, Mr. Ferrari, I hope to utilize some of your time outside work, hiring you as my consultant, naturally, I’d offer a reasonable salary."
Lynch casually retrieved a checkbook and a sophisticated pen, wrote a figure on the check, tore it from the book, and slid it over with his finger, "This is this month’s salary..." Lynch reminded, "Net of taxes, I’ll have the accountant handle the taxes."
At this stage, even if refusing, most would pick the check to see the amount, not for greed, but curiosity.
Curiosity over what someone like themselves is worth in the other person’s eyes, it’s also a reference for one’s value in society, a topic braggarts find useful later—"So-and-so once offered me xxx, I didn’t help them," effectively raising one’s reputation.
They’d look and place the check down to prove not being the person imagined.
Ferrari gently picked up the check, glanced at it, his brow tightening, five thousand dollars a month, a significant sum.
At City Hall as the mayor’s personal attendant, aside from the apparent five hundred dollars, the total salary barely exceeds a thousand.
He placed the check back on the table, sounding troubled, "What do you mean by this?"
Lynch shrugged, "I believe I’ve been clear enough just now. I lack understanding of certain laws, regulations, and some government-related processes and procedures."
"From what I know, ’personal attendant’ isn’t an official position at Sabin City Hall, our transaction is not unethical, I also don’t require illegal assistance from you."
"Just occasionally need consulting on issues I don’t understand or when I encounter trouble and don’t know how to resolve I’d consult you, that’s all."
Lynch was very sincere, "Can you help me, Mr. Ferrari? I truly look forward to your assistance!"