760: Chapter 423: Big Fool Eats Pizza – Idiot!
760: Chapter 423: Big Fool Eats Pizza – Idiot!
At that mont, Nima’s cursing was deafening!·1
Casare looked around, and all the representatives’ expressions were even more dramatic than Hollywood performances.
The British representative in the back looked like his head was about to retreat into the butt of the person in front of him.
In the past, if you called a piece of trash, I’d argue back with you—just to show my rebellious spirit.
But now, looking at is like an ant staring at the heavens!
Please think twice before you speak next.
I promise…
I won’t spew nonsense.
anwhile, the Arican, General Mason Leonard, slowly sat down, trying his best to appear calm, arms crossed over his chest, his face strained in an effort to remain composed.
But as he stared at the missile trucks…
…his eye corners twitched ever so slightly, and his fingers gripped tightly.
His face suddenly flushed red, the color of high blood pressure.
Now Victor truly seed to be commanding the world’s powers by leveraging the Yanks.
12,500 kiloters…
Mason Leonard was already contemplating—should he “dance” for Victor?
“xico and the United States have very serious historical misunderstandings, including 2 million square kiloters of land.”
Suddenly, an eerie voice drifted into Mason Leonard’s ear.
He jumped up like a startled rabbit, fearfully twisting his head to see Victor looking at him with a faintly amused expression.
Mason Leonard belonged to the sa faction as Donald—the Hawk Faction.
This group had one distinct trait: they didn’t respond well to force.
In the past, just one slap would’ve been enough.
But Hawks could also be Conservatives…
It all depends on who the enemy is.
Look at the SS-25 intercontinental missile formation passing below—it’s like a bunch of sleeping pills, one dose and countless people might sleep forever.
Mason Leonard was silent for a mont before finally speaking: “That’s history.
Tis are always progressing.
We should collectively adhere to the post-World War II peace and developnt order.”
“Pfft…”
Beside him, Casare suddenly burst into laughter, hastily waving his hand, “Sorry, I can’t help it—I tend to laugh a lot.
You know, us chubby folks generally have friendly dispositions.”
George Smiley was also beside them, suppressing his reactions while lowering his head.
The Arican claid they adhered to peace…
…just like the Soviet claid they didn’t drink, the Indians claid they weren’t womanizers, the Koreans claid their DDs were large—it’s like a Big Fool eating pizza: dumbass!
Victor’s gaze was piercing as he looked at the military formation on the main street without saying a word.
The Yanks anxiously watched him, treating him like coaxing a “child with a bomb,” telling him, “Don’t.
Starting today, you’re an adult.
Let’s talk properly.”
“You’re right.
What’s lost is lost; getting it back has no aning anymore.
But we need interests.
If I have the SS-25, continuing to act subordinate just becos aningless, doesn’t it?” He spoke with a gentle smile.
Ah… nuclear kindness indeed.
The words were frank enough, telling General Mason Leonard that he was demanding a redistribution of the pie.
Disagree?
Then flip the table!
The Arican representatives were eerily quiet.
The Deputy Defense Minister felt like a heavy stone was pressing on his chest, making breathing uneasy.
“Bring soone who can make decisions to the table.
We’ll be conducting a test launch in late November.
For now, the location coordinates are undecided.
Hopefully, you’ll give us sothing satisfactory.”
Beside him, Nicholas Maro Moro sat to Victor’s left, hearing every word of their discussion crystal clear.
He dared not move a muscle!
But his eyes were shining.
So it turns out…
…even the Yanks aren’t invincible.
They too feel fear.
Victor’s casual tone was as if he were instructing a subordinate about work.
Nicholas Maro Moro’s peripheral vision caught a glimpse.
The Yanks… were sitting awfully straight.
The appearance of the SS-25 made everyone present shiver before losing interest.
Then ca two reactions: either giving up or refusing to concede.
At 11 a.m., the parade’s final segnt had arrived.
It was the citizen march.
Ah, pre-approved.
They carried banners about 170 years of independence as they walked the main street.
So even held half-body portraits of Victor!
This was all Goebbels’ idea.
What did it an…
…to construct his image as the “Founder,” to make drug control the rebirth of xico.
This isn’t much different from ushering in a new heavens, is it?
Setting up a persona, staging appearances, and creating achievents—these are the refined thods of mature politicians.
Victor stood up, walked to the viewing platform’s edge, and waved to the crowd below; the cheering of 3,999 “citizens” beca even louder.
It was curious…
These citizens had noticeably short hair, and those few young, sharp lads with grinning teeth looked oddly innocent.
BANG!
Suddenly, a crisp sound rang out—almost drowned by the cheers.
None of the nearby representatives heard it clearly, but Guard Commander Joseph Xiafei’s complexion shifted; just as he rushed over, he noticed the General on the viewing platform making hand gestures to signal them not to approach.
He grinned, looking at the procession passing below.
As the final cannon fires rang out, the Independence Day celebration officially ca to an end.
Victor and the Arican representatives were surrounded by a crowd as they left, chatting and laughing with one another.
“Check out what happened!” Joseph Xiafei quietly instructed a Guard Corps bodyguard, who nodded.
Along with intelligence personnel, around seven or eight burly n jumped off the viewing platform, sprinting toward the source of the gunshot.
In a sewer on the main street, four or five Special Police Company officers were punching and kicking a frail woman.
Those combat boots were insanely thick; with each kick, damn it, you could almost feel her womb about to be kicked out.
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