This was Lynch's counterattack.
He would make the Shadow Alliance's ill repute resound throughout the entire world, ensuring that wherever people lived, everyone would know the sheer malice of this evil organization.
This was no pipe dream or wishful thinking. He had suddenly realized this opportunity while being questioned.
Harnessing the power of the media was actually far from easy. Under normal circumstances, no matter how much he complained to the press about the Shadow Alliance's conspiracy, it wouldn't make much of a splash.
Perhaps the press in Rhine City would show him enough respect to run a few editions, but far from reaching a global scale, hardly any outlets across Lande—let alone the wider world—would publish it, nor would it capture the public's eye. Constant, rambling accusations simply couldn't command attention, making his goal impossible to achieve.
Yet this time, the Shadow Alliance had finally left an opening, handing him the absolute best opportunity.
During the plague medicine allocation conference, an imposter princess assassinated a prince, duped high-ranking church officials and international delegates, incited a war between two nations, and sabotaged efforts to combat a plague.
This was not only a major international incident, but it also checked every box: royal scandals, geopolitical struggles, secular versus divine authority, and the fate of humanity. Every single tag was enough to grab the attention of readers of all tastes.
With all these elements combined, the media would swarm like sharks scenting blood. It would be impossible to cover up even if one wanted to. By dawn, the story would spread throughout Rhine City; by nightfall, every newspaper in both Lande and Friedman would be filled with relevant news and commentary; and within five days, it would inevitably spread to the entire world.
It was practically an open invitation. If Lynch didn't seize this chance to strike back against the Shadow Alliance, he would feel unworthy of his status as a transmigrator.
So bring it on. Let them taste the iron fist of the Information Age.
It wasn't that no one opposed the proposal.
In fact, when asking who opposed it, Lynch had already envisioned countless voices shouting, “I oppose!”
It was understandable. After all, official authorities had never trusted the emerging phenomenon of the media and constantly suppressed it. Meanwhile, the churches and secret societies guarded against the press with utmost vigilance, terrified that they might leak the world of the occult to ordinary people. Everyone had numerous misgivings, and not without good reason.
To address this, Lynch had already prepared plenty of arguments to convince them. He believed that as long as he was given the chance, he could certainly persuade them to accept his suggestion.
However, things did not unfold as he anticipated, and to his regret, he never got that chance.
Because after the initial uproar, the hall fell into dead silence.
The vast majority of people were seriously contemplating his proposal—especially the high-ranking figures seated near the front, whose expressions were exceptionally solemn.
This actually caught Lynch off guard, leaving him momentarily bewildered.
Small wonder he didn't understand. After all, it was hard for one to see oneself clearly, and he had not yet realized the quiet transformation he had undergone.
He was no longer the down-and-out detective Lynch Levive who had been set up and quietly hanged in his own home a few months ago, but Sir Lynch Levive, the man currently at the height of his fame in Rhine City.
Her Highness the Princess looked upon him with special favor; Duke Vane was willing to back him publicly; Chairman Grant of the city council had to step around him; the ladies of the Church of Suffering treated him with intimacy; the Archbishop of the Church of the Black Night treated him like a younger relative; the Pope of the Church of Joy had personally stepped in for his sake; and the high-tier powerhouses of Rhine City bantered with him like old friends.
Even if such a person merely yawned, people would treat it with utter gravity—to say nothing of the fact that the knight's proposal was far from a wild fantasy.
There was precedence.
He had already conducted a trial run, and it had been a resounding success. With a brilliant media war, he had nailed his opponent to the wall, benefiting various circles in Rhine City tremendously while sending ripples through all of Lande and even across the water to Friedman. Proposing it again now naturally possessed extraordinary persuasiveness.
Many present were bureaucrats, not fools; weighing pros and cons had long been an instinct ingrained in their very souls.
Should we... give it a try?
Let's give it a try.
“I agree.”
“I agree as well.”
Two youthful voices spoke up one after the other—support from the royal families of both nations. The princess and the prince turned to look at him simultaneously, their eyes filled with nothing but trust.
“I also think it's worth a try.”
The representative of the Governor's Mansion was Duke Vane himself, who had rushed over, while Friedman's representative was the young prince's royal tutor. The stance of these two practically sealed the deal. As for the occult side, they expressed that as long as mystery was not leaked, they had no objections.
And so, the matter was settled. Sir Lynch Levive was appointed as the official spokesperson to host the second press conference.
Its scale was far more staggering than the first, attended not only by reporters from over a dozen Rhine City newspapers, but also numerous visiting media outlets accompanying delegations from other nations.
Hundreds of reporters from dozens of outlets had long smelled the unusual atmosphere and completely surrounded the hotel. Upon hearing the news, their cheers nearly blew the roof off the building. In the end, over a hundred carefully selected journalists were invited into the conference hall.
In the early morning of July 11, 1399, the second Rhine Press Conference officially commenced.
Hosted by the temporary news spokesperson for the Rhine Governor's Mansion, with representatives dispatched from every major faction, it qualified as a remarkably formal press conference even by the standards of Lynch's previous world.
Facing the journalists of the entire city once again, Lynch no longer felt his initial nerves or awkwardness. Habit truly was a terrifying thing. Now, standing before countless eager eyes and flickering flashbulbs, he actually felt quite invigorated.
“I am a reporter from the Rhine Daily. May I ask, what exactly is this Shadow Alliance you mentioned?”
“A terrorist organization. That is a new term we have coined for it—an anti-human organization that carries out indiscriminate terrorist attacks against civilians. Only they could be capable of creating a plague.”
“I am a reporter from the Friedman Daily Mail. May I ask, what evidence do you have to accuse the Shadow Alliance of creating the plague?”
“This has been certified by the Church of Suffering and personally confirmed by Lady Fiona, the Lord of Suffering. Is that evidence sufficient?”
The questioning reporter instantly shut his mouth, and another reporter immediately stood up to take his place: “I am a reporter from the Eibon Principality Steam Commercial News. The man-made plague you mentioned is unheard of. Does such a method truly exist? Could you elaborate on the details?”
“The method has been researched by the Churches of the Twelve Major Gods. Every servant of the gods can tell you in their deity's name that it indeed exists. As for more details... what do you intend to do once you know? Hm?”
“Uh...”
“I must solemnly warn all of you: do not ask questions you shouldn't be asking. Such dangerous information is strictly confidential. The slightest leak could precipitate a worldwide disaster. Is that your goal? Do you also wish to use the suffering of civilians as a tool to draw attention?”
“No, no...”
“Then keep your pen in check, and keep your head in check.”
Slick and completely in command.
The journalists of this era were greenhorns who had never undergone trial by fire. The media back in his homeland were miles ahead of them. Lynch had gained a wealth of experience in dealing with the press just from watching TV shows, so facing these basic versions was practically a dimensional strike. Questions that others found tricky or awkward to answer never once strayed outside Lynch's predictions, allowing him to manage every aspect flawlessly.
“Me too! Over here! I'm Maya from the Rhine City Investigator. Mr. Spokesperson, rumor has it Her Highness the Princess visited Medea Hotel late at night for a secret rendezvous with her exclusive knight. Is this true?”
“???”
“Could you disclose the name and identity of that exclusive knight?”
“???”
“Rumors say the eldest daughter of the Valente family was also present at the scene. Is she involved in this matter as well?”
“I'm angry!”
Well, perhaps sometimes he wasn't quite so slick or completely in command after all.
Rate on N.U.
