Media War

Jefferson knew very well how to weaponize the media, and given his status, mobilizing the press was child's play.

On the surface, he appeared to be the uncrowned king of this world, yet Lynch did not see it that way.

In this world, no one understood the usage and sheer power of the media better than him. In his previous life, centuries of development had pushed the efficacy of media to its absolute limit, whereas the media in this world was still in its infancy, with less than fifty years of history.

Not only would he retrieve the Goddess's memory and safeguard the reputation of the Church of the Black Night, but he would also ensure Jefferson was utterly ruined and disgraced.

Lynch sneered as he looked back at the deck packed with reporters and cameras. The media thrived on sensation, never hesitating to exaggerate or even invent news. They did this partly because they had already established a predetermined stance, and partly because sensationalized news possessed enough shock value and influence to attract readers.

Therefore, as long as he provided sufficiently explosive information, they would naturally flock to him. As for their stance—while one side represented the entrenched old forces of the church and the feudal lord, the other side represented the rising capitalist power that the common citizens deeply resented. The media stood to lose nothing regardless of which side they took.

What was more, Lynch was here to curry favor with the press himself.

Lowering his hood so the cameras could only catch the sneer at the corner of his lips, Lynch shrouded himself in mystery. He raised his hand toward the reporters, swiftly bringing silence over the deck. “Since all our friends from the press happen to be here, we might as well borrow President Jefferson’s venue today to hold a press conference and media briefing.”

The reporters had never heard of such terms, yet professional instinct told them this would be closely tied to the future of their careers. Consequently, everyone instinctively shifted their full attention onto Lynch.

Lynch felt as though he were stepping on stage at a company-wide annual meeting to give an impromptu presentation. His legs were shaking slightly, but inside, he felt as refreshed as if he had just downed an ice-cold drink—a peculiar thrill of being both nervous and ecstatic. Licking his lips, Lynch felt a burst of showman energy. He swept off his top hat with a theatrical flourish, held it beside his chest, and bowed deeply to the reporters.

“I am private detective Lynch Levive. I was deeply involved in the investigation of the Square Massacre, and I am currently a special advisor to the Governor's Guard. The best-informed among you should already know who I am.”

Some reporters initially wore confused expressions, but after hearing his introduction, looks of sudden realization immediately dawned on their faces. Glancing at their colleagues around them, they nodded vigorously—Oh, so it’s you! I’ve heard of you, definitely heard of you.

“Beside me is Holy Knight Rick of the Church of the Black Night. Today, the two of us will host this press conference on behalf of both the Governor's Mansion and the Church of the Black Night. Shortly, we will disclose the truth of the incident and our concrete progress to everyone. Once we finish our statement, we will open the floor to questions. However, only questions relevant to the incident will be permitted; anyone raising irrelevant questions will have their participation revoked.”

The novel approach left the reporters brimming with excitement, but Jefferson’s expression turned utterly dark. He instinctively realized that he couldn't let Lynch keep running wild like this. “This cargo ship belongs to our merchant guild! Who gave you permission to hold any sort of meeting here? If you want to hold a meeting, get off my ship! We are setting sail!”

“You were the one who took the initiative to invite these friends from the press to sail with you, and now you’re saying this? Are you trying to kick our friends from the press off the ship?” Lynch gave a sinister smile and glanced at the fuming naval soldiers and officers. “Are you sure you want to do that?”

Jefferson’s lips twitched, but he clenched his fists in silence.

Lynch gave a faint smile and whispered a few words to the naval officer, instructing him to take his men below to secure the vessel first. Only then did Lynch speak in a loud, ringing voice: “As everyone knows, our great Emperor's aunt—”

“Lady Audrey,” Knight Rick whispered a prompt, filled with a deep sense of despair upon seeing Lynch suddenly choke on such basic common knowledge.

“Ahem, Lady Audrey will be holding her birthday celebration ten days from now. As a close ally of the Rose family, His Grace the Duke naturally wished to express his regards, so he commissioned the Church of the Black Night to prepare a gift to be delivered to Norin, where an envoy of the Rose family would escort it collectively to Friedman.”

It was almost entirely the truth, except the recipient had been changed from himself to Lady Audrey. Thus, Lynch spoke with righteous confidence. In any case, no one knew the actual facts, and even if they did, that venerable, kind, and amiable Queen Mother surely wouldn't mind:

“However, someone showed utter disregard for the majesty of the Churches of the Major Gods and, acting under the instigation of certain hostile forces in Friedman, sought to create a discrepancy between Lande’s gift inventory and the actual delivery. Their goal was to turn Lande into an international laughingstock and drive a wedge between Lande’s sovereign and his ministers! To that end, this individual used a special method to steal the gift, intending to deliver it to Friedman to claim credit. And I, as a private detective, have been hired to assist His Grace the Duke and the Church of the Black Night in tracking down the stolen item.”

An immediate uproar swept through the scene. The reporters broke into a flurry of excited whispers, and a barrage of flashbulbs went off relentlessly, targeting both Lynch and Jefferson.

Lynch let a subtle smirk curl the corner of his lips at Jefferson. Holding a press conference to brief the media with half-truths had been routine in his previous life, but in this world, it was an absolute first. It was exceedingly effective at winning the media's favor, successfully pulling the reporters—who had originally favored Jefferson—back to a neutral stance. Now, these journalists were just eager spectators who wanted to see the drama escalate, and their post-event reporting would no longer carry an obvious bias.

By now, Jefferson’s face had turned completely green, and he felt so choked he could almost spit blood. He clearly knew things were spiraling out of control, yet he couldn't refute a single word; doing so would only confirm his involvement in the theft. But if he didn't refute it and the item was truly uncovered, the media weapon he had prepared would turn into a noose around his own neck, making him the clown of the show.

In an instant, it was Jefferson himself who was caught in a dilemma. Th-this... this damned detective can't possibly find it, can he? No, I hid it so well, there's no way he can dig it up. Yes, exactly! The more exaggerated his claims are now, the more humiliating it will be for the church and the Governor's Mansion if he fails to find anything. He's cornered himself just as much as me! Hmph, let's see how you wrap this up when you come up empty-handed!

Jefferson chose not to argue. Gritting his teeth, he glared at Lynch with icy, venomous eyes. He was not the only one; even Knight Rick was secretly shooting questioning glances at Lynch from time to time, as if asking: Will this really work? If we can't find it in the end, won't it be even more humiliating?

Taking a deep breath, Lynch flashed an in-control smile and bowed to make an inviting gesture toward the journalists. “We have already received definitive intelligence that the stolen gift is on board this very ship. In accordance with the law, we will conduct a spot check of the vessel, and we will never knowingly break the law. We welcome our friends from the press to supervise the actions of both parties. Heh, the item is hidden right in the bottom of the hold. If we fail to find it, I will personally apologize to Mr. Jefferson at the earliest opportunity. Mr. Jefferson, you wouldn't object to this, would you?”

With an ashen face, Jefferson replied chillingly, “Fine. Everything according to the law. Let's see how you clean up this mess.”