In the morning, after Lynch had just exchanged another seven thousand dollars or so in change, in a call with Mr. Fox, the other wanted him to meet to talk about what was next.
Lynch considered for a moment and agreed to Mr. Fox's invitation.
Not long after that he met Mr. Fox at a slightly out-of-the-way farmhouse, and instead of expensive clothes he was wearing a blue-gray jeans and pants set today, and a rubber backpack.
When Lynch saw him, he was walking into the stables with a big stack of hay in his arms; it was getting hotter and hotter, and all that horse manure and cow manure and probably some other animal's dung in the sun was giving off a deadly odor, but Mr. Fox didn't show the slightest sign of being out of sorts.
There was a wait of seven or eight minutes before Mr. Fox came out of the stable while apologizing.
The two men walked over to the pergola behind the stables, and Mr. Fox said with some exclamation as he took the hose and rinsed all that grime from his rubbery knickerbockers, "Before I took up this trade, my father and I thought I'd make an excellent farmer!"
A look of remembrance passed over his face, still more than twenty years ago when he was not Mr. Fox, whom everyone now respected, but the country Fox boy.
He had just gotten married that year, and the economic gains that had been accumulated over many years in the Baylor Federation were beginning to show themselves explosively, with every industry gaining great momentum, and many people telling of the virtues of the city as if there was money everywhere, and that if one was willing to bend over, one would soon be able to become a big boss.
The whole society is filled with such a trend, and Mr. Fox, who is also trying to give his wife and children a better future, after discussing it with his family sets out with the rest of his young friends on a journey to the metropolis.
To this day, some have achieved success and some exist only in people's memories.
Mr. Fox is undoubtedly the luckier one, that's the thing about people, once they have some success they start to remember the past, some people may be more nostalgic for the carefree times in the past because of the misery they are living now.
But there are also those who honor the past for the sole purpose of setting up today's successes.
As for Mr. Fox's remembrance and his little hobby of working on the farm, Lynch felt that the latter might have been more of the case, and that by so doing he was deriving some satisfaction.
After rinsing his backpacking pants he stripped off the stuffy contraption with the help of the others, and he and Lynch wandered around the ranch alone and without purpose, chatting about some of his ideas in the process.
"Michael returned to Sabine City just after four o'clock this morning, be careful, he has a bad temper and can be impulsive at times, don't give him any chances!"
He said and laughed, "Of course this is just a small reminder from me, I'm sure he's no match for you, you're smarter than he is!"
This was invaluable information, if Lynch had only realized it when he saw Michael then there was a good chance that some minor mishap would have occurred, now that he knew this ahead of time he had plenty of time to prepare for his next encounter with Michael.
He had never been afraid of Michael, the license holder, and he wouldn't have been willing to get into a conflict with an investigation team leader if the other party hadn't tried to get him into trouble three times in a row.
Mr. Fox looked at Lynch's discreet nodding to know that he had listened, and followed up with, "Two more things, what I told you before, now that those people throughout the city, and even in nearby cities, know how to get their money into the bank legally, do you think this will have some impact on our business?"
"I mean, assuming that everyone is doing it, will the road be cut off as a result?" He was careful what he said; he'd had a much better time in the meantime, and he'd privately "acquired" two more laundromats and raised their standards.
Registered charge tickets were produced at the suggestion of his son, and everyone knew that those who could wash a garment for dozens of dollars at his laundromat were his own people, but no one could say that he had acted illegally until he had hard evidence.
He'd even heard through some sources some of the middle and upper management's take on what was going on in Sabine - the bigwigs thought it was a good thing, and at least these damn helpful finance companies understood the crucial point that even if their business wasn't legitimate, they had to pay taxes to make it work.
But there are also people who think that they are doing this a bit unorthodox, and at the same time, they should not be allowed to solve these troubles, and acquiescing to them doing so is somehow condoning crime, and in the end, the ones who will be unlucky are the ordinary people who have received help from them.
There are things that can be said in private, but they are hardly ever true, and eventually they will come to stop the "problems" that continue to arise in Sabine and the surrounding area.
"Aside from that matter, another question, how do you think my business can be legalized?" , Mr. Fox stopped a little in his tracks, it was a question he now urgently needed to address.
As long as the problem is not solved, and his returns are significantly higher than the minimum standards set by the federal government, then he will not be able to truly rest in peace for a single day.
His eyes filled with anticipation stared tightly at Lynch, while Lynch smiled noncommittally and took the initiative to step forward, with him following closely behind.
"The first problem is not to be worried about, change can't be exchanged, we have many other ways to solve this part of the problem, and you have to realize that the openers will always be ahead of those who come after us, and they won't be able to catch up with us, and that's not to be worried about."
"Also, the second problem doesn't have a very good solution yet, and there has never been a process that could effectively address it after all these years, and I'm sure the reason isn't because everyone born in those years is stupid!"
"But you can take a page out of the bank's book and solve a little problem for a while ..."
Mr. Fox was still disappointed, but when he heard that there was an indirect solution, he became interested, "What's the bank's ... solution?"
"Mortgage!" , Lynch patted the wooden fence at the edge of the farm, standing for a decade or more the wood had rotted beyond recognition.
From the outside it didn't look like it had changed much from any time in the past, but when Lynch's hand slapped on it, it instantly disconnected.
Grayish-white wood dust fell to the ground, looking at the wood that had completely decayed, Lynch's eyes gradually lost focus, as if he was looking at something other than wood.
Mr. Fox didn't bother him, but waited quietly for about twenty-six, seven, eight, nine seconds, thirty seconds up or down when Lynch came back to his senses.
"Sorry, I got sidetracked, where was I?"
"You said I could bank on the current situation first!"
"Yes, it's these ...," he said, seizing the initiative and continuing to walk forward, with Mr. Fox close at his side, and Mr. Fox's son in the distance, with a somewhat odd expression, looking at the two men.
In his eyes, it was as if his father, the famous Mr. Fox, had become Lynch's follower, followinghim step by step.
Of course, the person in question didn't feel with so, he was still listening to the methods that Lynch told him.
In fact, the banks gave a practical approach a long time ago, they discounted a hundred dollars of something by fifty dollars as collateral, one could argue that they were hedging their bets, but one could also argue that they were also gobbling up wealth.
Shorter terms, lower valuations, and a seemingly reasonable interest rate, they're just camouflaging their eats to look good.
But for people like Mr. Fox, who don't talk about food, that's a better solution.