Cuauhtémoc nodded and got into the car.
He finally understood the saying, "The rise and fall, honor and disgrace, rest on one person!"
He leaned back in his seat, "Góz~"
The new secretary sitting in the passenger seat quickly turned his head, wearing glasses, young and alert.
"When we get back, check to see if there are any reliable imperial titles in ancient xico. If not, look throughout Latin Arica."
"??? Sir, do you want to study history?"
Cuauhtémoc did not answer him, his gaze through the window looking off into the distance.
He would just use the honorific title "Mr. Victor" when necessary!
If he was to be Emperor, he had to "invite" himself; this die-hard lackey was determined to do so!
Nobody could stop him, not even Jesus coming down would be first!
No, there was another opponent.
Casare Gonzalez!
That guy’s ass-kissing skills were impeccable; he had to surpass him when it mattered.
"Achoo!"
In Tijuana, at the Security Departnt building.
Casare sneezed, picked up the remote control, and turned up the temperature of the air conditioner; he had dark circles under his eyes. With the boss out, all responsibilities fell on him, putting a lot of stress on his mind.
He was afraid the boss would return and find he hadn’t done well.
He was the "Executive Deputy Governor" after all.
"Huh?" He suddenly picked up a procurent application on his desk, submitted by the external departnt. xico was, after all, an "import" country with no complete industrial system.
In truth, not even a pen tip could be manufactured.
Of course, after the "North Arican Free Trade Agreent" was signed later, the Canadian dogs above and the Arican eagles below would pull the xican pests up into the skies!
A more complete and diverse industrial system wouldn’t be in place until the year 2000.
If you didn’t sign this "traitorous" agreent, the old bosses wouldn’t want to play with you; if you wanted to develop industry on your own, absolutely not allowed!
Therefore, post-Millennium industries including petrochemicals, electricity, mining, tallurgy, and others were all controlled by Aricans.
And Victor, who was in charge of the northern territories, didn’t move against the big Arican capital yet—it wasn’t ti, but small capitalists’ factories were constantly being squeezed, absolutely not allowing Yanks to play Emperor Eritus here.
So many things were imported from other parts of Eurasia; the procurent departnt held significant power.
But...
"Importing 1.2 million bullets from India?" Each word was familiar to Casare, but strung together, damn, it seed crazy.
Aren’t you afraid they might explode?
Can you even use stuff from India?
He angrily picked up the phone and called the head of the comrce departnt. "You! Right now! Co to my office imdiately."
The person on the other side was shocked and hurriedly scurried over, still panting when he knocked and entered.
"Sir!"
"Can you tell what this is?" Casare handed over the procurent order. "1.2 million bullets for 1.2 million US dollars?! I can tolerate that, but who told you to import from India, and besides, we have our own channels for weapons and ammunition; we don’t need to rely on others!"
"If you can’t give a good explanation, I’ll give you one!"
The head of the comrce departnt wiped the sweat from his forehead, lowered his voice, about to speak when Casare shouted, "Stand up straight and talk!"
The other party gave an awkward smile, "This procurent was negotiated by Mr. Vieri."
"Which Vieri?" Fat Casare furrowed his brows.
The boss had that surna too.
"Olinjo Favet Vieri!"
When Casare heard the na, his head ached, and he cursed.
In fact, this guy was indeed related to Victor; though his parents had passed away early, he still had other relatives.
xicans value family highly and are also quite prolific; Victor’s direct bloodline might be thin, but the Vieri family is thriving.
Originally, they weren’t pure xicans.
They migrated from Italy 200 years ago, and have long since taken root in this land; only, until now, they never had a leader, nor any celebrities within the clan. The surna Vieri was virtually unknown.
But who would have known...
Along ca Victor, shining like a teor. Ever heard the saying that one man’s success can lift all his kin to the heavens?
Continue reading at .Côm
He didn’t appoint relatives to important positions, after all, trusting those good-for-nothing kin would have been asking for trouble.
The Vieri family’s population reached an astonishing few thousand, after all, 200 years is a long ti, and Victor has several dozen close relatives.
Olinjo Favet Vieri and Victor share the sa grandfather, making them cousins. Olinjo used to be a street thug, also moonlighting as a drug dealer, but it was this very connection that saved him from trial.
After all, who would dare execute a mob boss’s blood relative?
And as his cousin’s rank rose ever higher, climaxing in the role of Governor, Olinjo Favet Vieri’s behavior beca increasingly outrageous.
The "criminal acts" that Casare knew of totaled no less than ten, like hit-and-run incidents while street racing, then fleeing the scene, beating up pregnant won, and drunkenly harassing a French woman by the roadside, and so on.
There was a whole bunch of people sucking up to him, and plenty were doing so without Victor’s knowledge; Casare and Jason Bourne wouldn’t bother reporting them either. After all, the boss was already so overburdened, why add more trouble?
His cousin is Victor!
The Governor!
Who would dare to offend him?
But Olinjo Favet was not the only one; quite a few mbers of the Vieri family, old and young, had been causing chaos under his na. Sotis, they stirred up public fury!
The head of the comrcial departnt looked very displeased, which made anger well up inside Casare, "Sir, this isn’t the first incident."
Fat Casare looked up at him.
"Many from the Vieri family co to the comrcial departnt seeking favors, including asking us to purchase so unnecessary products. Moreover, many co bearing letters from Mr. Victor, claiming they’ve given a heads up, expecting us to give them money!"
"They’ve received more than 70 million US dollars in total!"
"What! What are you eating, not to know to make a call to confirm?!," Casare jumped out of his chair when he heard the figure, "What do they need that much money for?!"
The head of the comrcial departnt shrank back, "If we don’t give it to them, they make trouble, and they co ard with handguns."
Who says there are no spoiled brats and relations earned through nepotism abroad?
There’s a saying that power flows in the blood.
Napoleon faced the sa ss after crowning himself Emperor – relatives leveraging his na for personal gain. Even General de Gaulle, touted as the last great man of France, with all his repute, faced posthumous defamation, implying he failed to manage his own kin.
Casare finally sensed that the problem wasn’t so straightforward.
This needed proactive reporting; he couldn’t let the boss find out himself, or else when the ti ca, everyone would suffer. With a grave expression, he said, "Go back for now, and rember, don’t let word of today’s affairs leak. If I catch even a whisper of it, I’ll have you thrown into the Thirteen Protectors’ dungeons!"
"Understood! Understood!"
With a wave of his hand from Casare, the other party hastily left. Sitting and frowning in his chair for a good while, Casare finally forced his spirits up and picked up the phone to dial out.
No one was allowed to tarnish the boss’s image!
Austria, Vienna.
Victor was trying the country’s cuisine, sothing called garlic soup, which was just a culinary nightmare; he nearly spat it out.
Nurnisha Kalis, laughing, said, "Not used to it, huh? I had a hard ti when I first ca here too. I always think that Austria is a beautiful country, except for their food, which is even more unpleasant than French bread."
As she was speaking, she noticed Victor’s secretary whispering sothing to him, and displaying her United Nations-honed instincts, she sensed sothing amiss and excused herself to the restroom to slip away.
Victor’s brow furrowed for a mont, but he quickly relaxed, "Let Casare handle it by the book."
"The law of Tijuana reigns supre!"
If anyone was to be above the law, it would only be Victor.
"Tell him, that’s a cousin, not a brother."
"He’s going to vomit out as much as he’s eaten."
"Otherwise..."
"He can pay with his life!"
...
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