Nick Rumsfeld swallowed hard upon hearing Victor’s words and chuckled nervously.
He felt that the other party was not joking.
The ashtray beside him moved 0.2 centiters closer, within arm’s reach for a strike. When he was in the United States, he had heard of Victor’s reputation as the "Ashtray War God."
"How do you intend to compensate us?" Nick asked.
Compensation?!
His eyes widened in surprise. Throughout his political career, he had t many shaless people, even while campaigning for the Governor’s position in Arkansas, sharing the stage with "Hero Teddy," who once said privately, "I’m as faithful in love as I am to the United States."
At that ti, he almost threw up listening to that.
He had never encountered such shalessness before, but now, eting Victor, he seed to have found his match.
Seeing Nick’s shocked expression, Governor Wei narrowed his eyes and uncrossed his legs, "What? You damaged our infrastructure and caused us physical and psychological harm, even leveling baseless accusations. Shouldn’t you compensate for that?"
Nick almost ran off.
He was never particularly articulate…
If it weren’t for Old Bush suddenly collapsing and the Boss Party panicking, who else could they have turned to but fully support Vice President Jas Dan Quayle to ensure they retained power?
The Democratic Party, led by Clinton, began their quest for power anew.
The internal struggle for power had begun…
Otherwise, why do you think Nick ca here?
If he could resolve the conflict between xico and the United States, the Boss Party could definitely gain an edge!
"This… I need to report back on this," Nick said, seeing Victor’s expression, his body trembling as if targeted by a hunter.
At the CIA and FBI, there is a psychological assessnt agency where the most frequent word in their evaluation report of Victor was: unpredictable!
A leader with an elusive character.
Victor smiled and spread his hands, "Of course you can, I’m always open to negotiations, but I expect to see your sincerity."
"Then, how much compensation do you need?"
"Money isn’t the issue, it’s about whether you respect xico and respect , Victor, right? Respect is mutual," Victor said casually, waving his hand gently.
But Nick’s face grew even more troubled upon hearing this.
This type was the toughest to deal with.
There’s no such thing as a good deal on the cheap.
Victor stood up, supporting his knees, "Let’s go, I’ve prepared so snacks for you to try our specialties."
He paused and squeezed out a disconcerting smile.
"Rest assured, it’s not a 7.62 caliber."
Nick was perplexed, hardly catching his point and rely chuckled nervously, looking more like a scholar than a politician. If not for his father’s legacy and family capabilities, relying solely on his own?
With his delicate features, he would only be fit for performing special skills for special clients in certain special venues, like a steel wool ball.
Victor: (Black question mark).
He patted Nick’s shoulder, at a loss for words.
The food prepared by the chef at the Governor’s Mansion was quite satisfactory.
At very least, it maintained a standard in appearance, aroma, and taste.
As Victor and Nick were eating, Victor suddenly asked, "Does Mr. Donald intend to run for president?"
Nick, looking surprised, shook his head, "We haven’t considered that." Stay tuned with .Côm
"Is it that you haven’t considered it, or that you lack the capability?" Victor said, biting into a corn cob, "A man’s desire for power far outweighs his desire for won. No one can say no to power, unless, they see no chance of winning."
Nick didn’t know where that twisted logic ca from, but it made so sense. However, he didn’t want to dwell on this topic further. He understood that the more he spoke, the more openings he would provide for his opponent to aggressively exploit.
"When you go back, you can ntion to Mr. Donald that we would be pleased to support him from the outside if he needs it. We can offer donations, influence public opinion, and other off-field actions to help him."
"We also have so influence in the United States."
The xican mafia’s influence in the United States is significant, with imnse power in many sectors and extrely brutal thods. Of course, Victor wouldn’t want these people—what a joke, he was a legitimate police officer, how could he harbor the mafia?
But so "Overseas xicans" have deeply understood "Emperor Victor’s" heartfelt intentions and decided to contribute to their holand by "supporting" Victor’s "anti-drug cause."
Ah, it’s all about whitewashing!
Hanging out with drug traffickers, that’s called mafia.
Hanging out with , Victor, would I let you be the mafia? You are a patriotic organization!
As long as you don’t traffic drugs, don’t traffic people, don’t act cheap, and remain obedient, sensible, and can wag your tail, that’s fine.
The chamber pot, too, has its uses.
Don’t you think?
Many who have managed to rise and flourish in the United States, to so extent, have brains. They understand that they can’t fully integrate into Arican society, yet they are not content—serving as a dog for soone, why not?
Believe it or not, if Victor needs it, the xican flag could be hanging over the White House tomorrow!
Just Michael Corleone, with Victor’s help, opened 9 companies in 1990 in Washington D.C., including three internet companies, a private bank, and two investnt banks, which provided $20 million in funds to a computer data company called "Quantum," which later beca "Arica Online."
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