The first priority is settling the debt with Black Hide and the others. They’ve suffered far too much for my sake these past few years.
"How much can we get for a loan against the Crown Territory?" Feng Shan asked.
"Let think." Frank took a sip of his Coca-Cola. After a mont of thought, he said, "The Bureau of Land Managent is willing to buy back the Crown Territory’s land at a hundred US Dollars per acre. That puts its total value at around fifty million US Dollars."
"Since you’re using the land as collateral, the loan amount definitely won’t exceed that value. A ceiling of forty million US Dollars should be no problem."
"I can get Lady Kelly to endorse it. With a little maneuvering, we can transfer the loan liability to the state governnt. That’ll let you get the cash fast. The Alaska State Governnt would be more than happy to do it."
"But how do you plan on repaying it? If you can’t, why not just sell the Crown Territory to the BLM? You could take the money and go back to your ho country. What do you think?"
’Not a chance.’
’The Crown Territory is not for sale.’
’This loan is just for temporary cash flow. I’m a Witch. As long as I can gather enough Soul Power, making money will be a piece of cake.’
Feng Shan put on a grave expression. "The Crown Territory won’t be sold. You don’t need to worry. I have the ans to repay the loan."
"Buddy, don’t tell you found Mr. Feng’s treasure! I knew it! He wouldn’t have lived all alone on the tundra for no reason." Seeing Feng Shan’s confidence, Frank’s eyes lit up as he recalled a certain rumor.
It was once said that the owner of the Crown Territory was the last vault keeper of the Tsarist Russian Empire, guarding a massive treasury for the Tsarist Royal Family. It was rumored to contain tons of gold and mountains of jewels.
Otherwise, the Tsarist Russian Empire wouldn’t have been willing to give up the sale of Alaska just to keep the Crown Territory.
However, the United States later dispatched over a dozen geological survey teams to inspect every inch of the Crown Territory, but they never found the supposed treasury.
Furthermore, for decades, the second-generation heir, Mr. Feng Kailu, had lived a very modest life, so the rumor of a treasury eventually burst like a bubble.
The rumor later changed to say that the previous owner of the Crown Territory had cured the Tsar of a serious illness and was gifted the land as a thank you.
’Treasure?’
’Treasure, my ass.’
’If there was a treasure, would I be using the Crown Territory to get a loan?’
Feng Shan maintained his grave expression, neither explaining nor confirming anything. "Can we get the loan done today?"
"A loan with a governnt guarantee is no problem at all. They’ll even thank you for it. Lady Kelly is right here in Fairbanks." Frank nodded, pulled out his phone, and dialed a number, signaling Feng Shan to stay quiet.
The phone rang a few tis before the call connected.
Frank’s voice beca exaggerated as he spoke into the phone in a low tone, "Oh, Kelly, my dear, how is it that we’ve only been apart for an hour, and I’m already starting to miss you?"
"No, no, no, please don’t ntion your damn husband. Our love is pure, God as my witness."
"Get to the point? Alright, you’re going to love this."
"Rember Feng? After so hard convincing on my part, he’s planning to contact Wells Fargo Bank and use the Crown Territory land as collateral for a loan. I’m hiding in the bathroom to secretly give you this tip."
"What? You’re not going back to Juno today? You’re planning to stay the night? Oh, God, that is an excellent decision! The people of Alaska will be thrilled. They’re welcoming the Iron Lady who will complete the Alaska Wolf Map."
"That’s right. I’ll be in room 518 at the Forest Hotel, ready to personally open a bottle of champagne."
"Okay, I’ll see you at Wells Fargo Bank. Your supporter, Frank. Love you!"
Once Frank hung up, Feng Shan gave him an admiring thumbs-up.
’Masterful.’
’Truly masterful.’
’A perfect demonstration of what it ans to be utterly shaless.’
"Buddy, for you, I will be sacrificing many of my children. You’d better be grateful." Frank composed himself and downed the rest of his Coca-Cola. "Let’s go! Wells Fargo Bank!"
’A great sacrifice, indeed.’
’The carnage would probably stretch from room 518 to room 618.’
’Bodies strewn all over the floor.’
Feng Shan shot him a look, picked up Prince and the Coca-Cola, and the two of them walked out of the Walmart Supermarket.
As they exited the supermarket, his attention was drawn to a unique figure by the entrance.
A man sat on the ground with a bow and arrows beside him. He was draped in a garnt made from a whole brown bear hide, complete with a bear’s head for a hat. His face was covered in black tattoos, most notably three straight black lines: one running from between his eyebrows down the bridge of his nose, and two more running from his chin down his neck.
"Let’s go, quickly. He’s an Indian Headhunter," Frank explained quickly in a low voice. "See those three black lines tattooed on his face? They’re called ’death rays’ or ’glory tattoos.’ You only get one after killing an enemy and taking their head. The number of rays indicates the number of heads taken."
’That brutal?’
Feng Shan grew even more curious and looked at the Indian Headhunter. The man was sizing him up as well. Their eyes t, and perhaps because Feng Shan had a clear conscience, a strange sense of mutual goodwill passed between them.
Shaking off Frank’s grip, Feng Shan stepped forward.
"Do you need help?"
The Indian Hunter stared intently at Feng Shan. After a mont, he uttered a single word.
"Food."
Feng Shan imdiately turned and went back into the supermarket. When he erged again, he was holding a large paper bag filled with food.
Bread, sausages, drinks, at patties, fried chicken...
He crouched down to place the paper bag on the ground, then stood up, said "Take care," and left.
The Indian Headhunter watched Feng Shan walk away. He pulled the paper bag closer and, along with the food, saw a hundred-dollar bill.
....
"Buddy, I’d advise you to stay far away from those Indian natives. They’re dangerous. One might crawl into your house in the middle of the night and chop your head off."
All the way there, Frank chattered nonstop, warning Feng Shan to be wary of the natives.
"Relax, he’s not going to cut my head off. But my life *would* be saved if you could drive properly. Can you please get back in your own lane?"
Feng Shan gestured helplessly at the windshield. Their car, driving in the wrong lane, was like a rock in the middle of a river. Drivers in the oncoming cars were rolling down their windows and shouting curses.
Frank quickly yanked the steering wheel, swerving back into the correct lane, still muttering to himself.
"God, I must’ve been cursed by the Indians!"
"You should be glad they confiscated my rifle. Otherwise, I would’ve definitely put a bullet in you before we crashed." Feng Shan muttered, comforting the terrified, trembling Prince.
"Changing the subject... what do you want to do once you get the money? Want to throw the party of the century? I can get you beautiful won from all fifty states. You’ll be a god at that party."
"I’m planning to buy a plane. That way I won’t have to bother Tom every ti I need to go sowhere." Feng Shan completely ignored Frank’s suggestion.
"Poor Tom. He’s one step closer to unemploynt. You damn nouveau riche, can’t you leave a guy a way to make a living? I know a plane supplier, by the way. Can get you the best discount."
Frank grinned, as if he could already picture Tom’s furious, humiliated expression.
....
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