Becoming a Russian Oligarch After Rebirth
Chapter 361 He Doesn’t Know Shit_1

Chapter 361: Chapter 361 He Doesn’t Know Shit_1

On the second morning of their arrival in Chukotka, A Bu accompanied Wang Ye to the local TV station.

In the simple studio, the two were interviewed.

It was mainly an introduction to Wang Ye, along with A Bu’s various elaborate praises...

As for Wang Ye’s appearance, it’s not an issue at all, because in Chukotka, there are many people who look like Wang Ye!

In fact, compared to A Bu, Wang Ye looked more like a Chukotka "local native"!

You see, the earliest inhabitants of this land were not the Russians, but the Chukchi people, a race of people with black hair, black eyes, and yellow skin!

Only later was this place annexed by Tsarist Russia, and gradually many Russians migrated here.

Even now, the local Chukchi population still accounts for about one-third of the total population, so if Wang Ye didn’t say where he came from, people would think he was a local.

This kind of interview is more of a formality, with its symbolic meaning greater than its practical significance.

Because in reality... not many people watch Chukotka TV.

More importantly, there’s the 100,000 bottles of vodka that A Bu has prepared in advance, now that’s a "secret weapon"!

According to the plan, this vodka will be distributed two days before the election, along with campaign posters, which have Wang Ye’s portrait and name printed on them...

Technically, this is against the rules; it could be seen as election bribery.

But the fact is, in the Duma elections in Russia, nearly all the candidates use similar tactics to garner votes!

Just that unlike Wang Ye, who gave out two bottles of vodka a piece, others gave out candies, bread, eggs and such...

Since everyone is playing the same game, no one can call anyone out.

And you know what, this tactic works surprisingly well.

Giving ordinary people practical items is far more effective than painstakingly debating and explaining one’s governance philosophy on TV.

Ordinary folks can’t even eat their fill, who cares about your governance strategies...

Of course, in higher-level elections, such small favors won’t do. After all, the number of voters faced is different, and they can’t afford to give out gifts on a large scale.

.........

By the end of November, Anadyr has become extremely cold, with temperatures dropping to around -30 degrees Celsius. Around 4 p.m., the sky darkens, and few people can be seen on the streets.

Due to the weather, many places in Russia finish work very early around 3:30 p.m.

Old Yuri drove his national treasure of a Russian car, the two-door Lada, back to his small yard.

He slammed the door shut with a force that sent shaking through the car, causing the snow on the car to fall off.

He looked up at the snowflakes as big as feathers flying in the sky, then looked down to see the snow in the yard almost up to his knees. This was after clearing the snow once in the morning.

Old Yuri cursed: "This damn weather, it’s been snowing for a month and it’s not stopping!"

But that was just a passing remark, he had lived in this place for decades and was quite used to the climate.

Upon opening the door and entering the house, the indoor temperature was a stark contrast from the outside.

The outside temperature was -30 degrees Celsius, while indoors it was over twenty degrees. The difference in temperature could reach over fifty degrees...

Old Yuri took off his thick leather jacket, kicked off his heavy fur boots, and shouted: "Wife, I’m home."

His wife must be busy in the kitchen. Hearing Old Yuri’s shout, she replied, telling him to wash his hands and get ready for dinner.

There were only two of them in the house. Their only daughter had gone to study in Moscow and stayed there for work and life after graduation.

The local climate and employment conditions were not good, so most young people would not stay. Those with some prospects all left.

Apart from these older folks who have lived here a long time and found it hard to move elsewhere.

Soon, the two old people were sitting at the dinner table, where hot meals were served.

Borscht with sour cream, smoked fish, beef stew with potatoes, and black bread were on the table, a reasonably rich meal.

Mainly because these things were quite cheap in Russia. The real expensive items were various fresh vegetables and fruit.

Old Yuri took a sniff of the beef stew with potatoes, sighed contentedly, and was about to start eating when he suddenly felt that something was missing.

He got up, went to the fridge and took out a bottle of vodka and a small glass, then returned to the table and poured himself a glass.

In such cold weather, it would be impossible not to have a drink.

Russians have a pretty strange habit of drinking vodka.

Like now, Old Yuri didn’t rush to drink the alcohol nor eat the food.

Instead, he picked up a slice of black bread, sniffed it by his nose, exhaled sharply, then downed the glass of vodka!

After finishing his drink, he exhaled contentedly, sniffed the black bread again, took a big bite, and then tucked a piece of smoked fish into his mouth.

Only then, after this, it could be said to be a complete drinking procedure...

......

Not far from the dining table, on a low cabinet against the wall, sat a small TV, a 14-inch black-and-white CRT TV, which seemed quite old.

The TV was broadcasting a local program, a personality interview. Just as Old Yuri was about to ask his wife to change the channel, A Bu’s face appeared on the screen.

Old Yuri took an interest, deciding to see what A Bu had to say.

No doubt about it, A Bu’s reputation had been good since he came to Chukotka nearly a year ago, and he was well-respected by the locals.

No wonder, as A Bu often paid out of his own pocket to build various infrastructure after he arrived.

The road in the city center was built with A Bu’s own money!

Such a leader...how could his reputation not be good?

What surprised Old Yuri was that in between A Bu and the host sat a very young lad who looked like he was in his early twenties.

Black hair, black eyes, probably a Chukchi.

After watching for a while, Old Yuri got it. The program was mainly introducing the young man. The election was about to start, and this young man was running for the Duma elections.

Old Yuri sneered, shaking his head and telling his wife: "See, there’s no hope for this country! A lad in his early twenties is going to run for Duma? Does he know how to run a country, what the people need the most? He doesn’t know shit!"

His wife didn’t even glance at the TV and was sipping her borscht. Upon hearing Old Yuri’s words, without raising her head, she said: "Let whoever wants to run, run. It’s all the same, and it doesn’t really concern us. We’ll just vote for anyone when the time comes."