Blackstone Code-Chapter 647: Backstab

“Mr. Soren, hello. I’m the liaison assigned to work with you. You can call me Tom,” said a man who looked like a corporate professional, standing in front of Governor Sedel’s son.

The Security Council had booked a suite in a hotel near customs to receive Soren, while also arranging for other personnel to approach him.

Judging from Soren’s demeanor, it didn’t seem like he was there for anything malicious.

At this point, the young man finally had a name: Soren.

Soren casually sized up the agent before him, nodded slightly, and held out his hand. His assistant placed a newspaper into his open palm.

Without pause, Soren tossed the newspaper to the agent in a single, fluid motion—one that exuded an unmistakable arrogance.

And he had every reason to be arrogant. As a noble of the Gephra Empire and heir to a title, Soren was born so far ahead in life that others couldn’t even see the starting line, let alone catch up. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝙬𝙚𝓫𝒏𝓸𝓿𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝙤𝓶

Power, wealth, status—whether or not he desired them, he possessed them from the moment he was born to the governor’s wife.

Whatever the future held for Gephra or the Federation, it would hardly affect him or those like him. When a country suffers, the burden always falls on the lower classes. The elite remain untouched.

After all, even when Amellia’s original sovereign was defeated in war, the upper class remained the upper class, living lives far beyond the reach of ordinary people. Only the commoners truly suffered.

In many places, power is the key to wealth and status. Even a sliver of power can be exchanged for vast sums of money.

Soren withdrew his hand and sat on the sofa, legs crossed, leaning back, his foot tapping rhythmically in the air.

“That name is obviously fake, Mr. Tom,” he said, casually exposing the alias with indifference. He tapped the table with his fingers. “I want to buy this kind of generator.”

Agent Tom glanced at the newspaper and immediately understood what he was referring to. He shook his head and set the paper aside. “Mr. Soren, if your purpose is to purchase this equipment, I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed, because…”

He gave a small shake of his head. “These units are not currently for sale.”

The equipment was real, but still considered not ready for export.

Many assume not ready means there’s a technical issue, but that’s only part of the picture. For profit-driven companies, not ready often just means production costs are still too high for mass manufacturing.

A product moves through several phases from the lab to the consumer—starting from theory, to experiments, to prototypes, followed by process optimization, small-batch production, and finally full-scale manufacturing.

Only when a product can be mass-produced consistently and reliably is it considered truly stable.

The new thermal power generators were technically mature, but the production process still needed refinement. Moreover, the technology itself wasn’t the most cutting-edge—there were even more advanced designs on paper.

Hearing this, Soren frowned slightly. He didn’t like being refused.

Still, since he was in the Federation, he held back the typical aristocratic outburst, though his voice carried a hint of displeasure. “I heard the Baylor Federation stood for freedom and equality, but that doesn’t seem to be the case.”

“You don’t own this equipment—how can you make decisions on behalf of those who do?”

“Or is the Federation’s public image just a bunch of lies crafted to please the international community?”

A loaded accusation—but among nobles, playing this kind of game was routine. Their infighting was far more brutal and drawn-out than anything in the Federation.

The agent simply smiled without refuting him. There was no point.

Soren also knew that mockery would get him nowhere. He changed tack. “Give me their number. I’ll speak with them directly. You know how it is—if I’m willing to spend, it’s not hard to find them. You can’t stop me.”

The agent quickly gave Soren the generator manufacturer’s number. Once Soren got what he wanted, he started waving people out.

“You can go now, Mr. Fake Name. And don’t worry—I’m just here for tourism and business…”

“If you’re going to assign people to protect me, that’s fine. Just stay out of my way.”

Later that day, Mr. Wadrick received a call at work—it was an internal line.

He answered without hesitation. He didn’t state his name or say anything—he just listened.

Only board members and department heads were authorized to use that line. No one else—whether internal, external, or personal—had the clearance to call it. By picking up, the other party already knew it was him.

“It’s me… there’s something you should know. A young man from Gephra named Soren has arrived. We checked—he’s the son of the Amellia governor, and the future governor himself.”

“He wants to buy our improved thermal power generators. I thought you should be informed.”

Mr. Wadrick set down his pen and capped it, leaning back in his chair. “I recall we already discussed this—we’re not selling externally at the moment.”

Lynch had wanted something significant to serve as leverage for securing a major project. There weren’t many things that could sway two great nations—only politics, military, diplomacy, or technology.

In today’s increasingly stable world, military leverage was off the table. Political and diplomatic channels had recently been explored, with no room for more movement in the short term. That left technology.

For an island nation under blockade, energy was the biggest issue. Lynch had found the perfect bargaining chip—and it tipped the scales in his favor.

He had told Mr. Wadrick he would secure the entire Amellia power infrastructure project and ensure it exclusively used Wadrick’s products.

It was a massive deal. For a domestic energy industry already slowing down, if Lynch could deliver, the profit potential was enormous.

Whether the motivation was political or economic, ensuring the exclusivity of Lynch’s product exports was essential.

So Mr. Wadrick saw no reason to repeat himself—and had no intention of changing course.

Laughter came through the line. “Alright, I’ll be honest—this Soren kid told me they plan to build no fewer than thirty thermal power plants in Amellia, and they want to buy all the generators from us.”

“He doesn’t want the technology—just the equipment. We talked over the phone. He’s willing to agree to confidentiality terms and secure installation.”

“Secure installation” meant protecting the equipment from tampering to prevent leaks of core technology—by adding internal anti-disassembly measures or enclosing the main components in protective shells.

In short, with this kind of mechanism in place, these thermal power generator units most likely won’t be repairable—once installed, they can’t be opened. Forcibly opening them would require destroying the unit completely before even getting inside.

Not everyone is willing to accept such installation conditions. Some buyers purchase the equipment specifically to take it apart and study it. If they can’t open it, there’s no point in buying it.

Soren agreeing to these terms showed his sincerity.

“We’ve discussed this already, and the cabinet is leaning toward using our own people for these projects. You can’t just focus on the economic benefits…” Mr. Wadrick realized something and cut in before the other party could say more, trying to shut down the argument.

Sometimes, stopping a debate before it escalates is enough to prevent what comes next.

But this time, the person on the other end wasn’t so easily swayed. “If our collaboration on these projects goes well, Soren is willing to act as a middleman to sell our equipment throughout all of Gephra…”

“Do you have any idea how big that market is?”

“The board will definitely support this alternative approach, so I’m just giving you a heads-up.”

By this point, Mr. Wadrick more or less understood—the caller had probably already spoken to the board. This was a massive order.

Hundreds of generator units, easily worth several billion or more. There was no way the board would pass up that kind of profit. Even if there were political implications, it wouldn’t stop them from chasing that revenue.

Whether he opposed it or not no longer really mattered. After a few seconds of silence, he sighed. “Understood…”

After hanging up, he picked up the receiver again—but quickly put it back down. He wanted to call Lynch but didn’t know what to say.