Becoming a Russian Oligarch After Rebirth
Chapter 909 - 855: The Advantage is Mine_2

Chapter 909: Chapter 855: The Advantage is Mine_2

Mike pondered for a moment and, after assessing the strengths and weaknesses of "friend and foe", he gritted his teeth and said, "It doesn’t matter, there’s still more than half a year until the election. Although their funding might not be less than ours now, propaganda also requires skill. We have far too many experts in propaganda and election strategy, and their campaign tactics are still too primitive and outdated. So, the advantage is still on our side!"

Reassured by his promise, Yushchenko finally felt at ease.

With a beaming smile, he said, "That’s great, that’s wonderful! In the upcoming campaign, I will do my utmost to cooperate with Mr. Mike’s work. After I win, I will certainly provide a satisfactory return... By the way, Mr. Mike, it seems our election funds are running low, I’ll have to trouble you to apply for some more funding."

Mike cursed in his heart, this greedy fat pig!

The election funds their side had supported Yushchenko with were not a small amount, but a significant portion of the money had been "siphoned off" by this guy during the campaign.

However, he kept a neutral expression and nodded with a smile, agreeing to do so.

After all, it wasn’t his own money, and Yushchenko was indeed very generous to them, treating them to good food, drink, and entertainment. It was a favor he could easily do.

Once this guy won the election, he would be a Big Shot!

Maintaining a good friendship with such a Big Shot was definitely going to be beneficial for him...

...

After discussing the formalities, everyone went their separate ways, each with their own things to be busy with.

Mike and his team returned to their hotel and held a brief meeting to arrange work for the next phase.

After they were done with the work, it was evening.

Patting his rumbling stomach, Mike said to his subordinates with a smile, "Let’s go out to eat something, and maybe have a drink too. I’m really tired of the hotel’s restaurant. The atmosphere in the bars is better, and there are beauties."

As he spoke, he couldn’t help but whistle.

Honestly, having been here a while, Mike had fallen in love with this place!

Low living costs, plenty of beautiful women, and easy to get along with— it was simply a man’s paradise.

Of course, the prerequisite is you need to have some money and be quite generous...

Mike clearly met this requirement.

With a high salary, being tall and handsome, and the aura of an "American".

In the bars of Kiev, he was simply unbeatable!

But he had considerable self-control, understanding that doing his job well was the priority, so he only hit the bars every few days.

"Boss, we’ve been waiting for you to say that!"

"Haha, let’s go back to the bar we visited the last time, it’s full of beauties."

"The girls here are really nice, much prettier than the ones back home."

Mike’s subordinates chatted eagerly, each one’s eyes shining like hungry wolves.

They set out right away, and Mike led them out of the hotel.

First, they found a high-end restaurant for a sumptuous dinner, and then, seeing that the time was right, they headed to a nearby bar.

...

Not only the Russians loved to drink, but the Ukrainians enjoyed it too, or perhaps the people in these bitterly cold regions all liked a drink or two.

So, although the economic situation in Kiev wasn’t so good, there were really quite a few bars.

And the bars were usually packed, bustling with people.

When Mike and his group arrived at the bar, each ordered a drink, held it in their hands, and began to look for "prey".

Soon, a voluptuous girl caught Mike’s eye, and he walked over with his drink in hand.

"HI, beauty, are you alone?" Mike deliberately asked with a heavy Russian accent.

The girl sized up Mike and asked back, "Foreigner?"

"Hmm, from New York." Mike replied.

The girl’s eyes lit up and a sweet smile spread across her face as she leaned closer to Mike and said in a coy voice, "Can you buy me a drink? We could chat, I’m quite interested in New York."

Mike bowed slightly, the gentlemanly gesture coming naturally, "Of course, no problem, I also enjoy making friends."

At the bar, Mike signalled the bartender to pour the girl a drink, and the two stood there by the bar, making casual conversation.

Mike was a seasoned veteran in such situations, his talk humorous and witty, quickly sending the girl into fits of giggling laughter.

Feeling the timing was ripe, Mike tentatively extended an invitation, "I’m staying at the hotel next door. Would you like to go to my room for a cup of coffee? It’s too noisy here; the room is much quieter."

The girl hesitated for a moment but then nodded her head.

They got up to leave the bar, the prospect of beauty spurring Mike to quicken his step.

But before they had even exited the hotel, they were faced with several fierce-looking young men.

The leader, a well-built, tall young man, blocked Mike and the girl’s path, his face full of anger as he demanded, "Dasha, who is this man!"

The girl seemed to provocatively throw her arms around Mike’s arm, pressing half her body against him as she taunted, "This is my new boyfriend, from New York, he said he’s going to take me to New York! What’s it to you, what am I to you that you should care!"

Mike froze for a moment. Had he encountered a "rival in love"?

His first instinct was to explain himself, but turning to see Dasha looking at him with pleading eyes, his heart softened just a bit.

After all, men, irrespective of nationality, have their pride.

Especially in front of a beautiful girl, how could he possibly give in and admit defeat?

And besides, they were just some thugs; what did he have to fear?

If it came down to a fight, he had undergone proper special training; ordinary people couldn’t even get close to him!

Even if there were many of them, he had his own men too, who seemed to sense something amiss and were already gradually moving closer.

If worst came to worst, a phone call away were real Special Forces members taking care of the security for the advisory team at the hotel, he just hadn’t brought them out today.

With these thoughts, he stepped in front of Dasha, smiling at the young man, "Since you’re just her ex-boyfriend, you no longer have any relationship with her. Please step aside and don’t hinder us."

Hearing his response, the young man grew even more enraged, cursing "Suka Column," and reached out to shove Mike.

Mike smirked, lightly grabbing the young man’s wrist, making a pull and twist motion as if to make him look foolish.

To his surprise, the other man’s strength was astonishing, and a palm shove on Mike’s shoulder sent him staggering.

This agitated Mike into a mix of annoyance and rage as he exclaimed "fuck" and swung a tight right hook at the young man.

The punch landed on the young man’s body with a dull thud.

This punch was like poking a hornet’s nest; the group of young men swarmed in, ready to gang up on Mike.

Mike’s men also charged in, obviously not about to stand by while their boss was attacked.

The scene erupted into chaos.

When the incident first unfolded, Mike wasn’t too concerned, relying on his own and his men’s abilities; surely they could handle a few street thugs.

But soon, he realized something was wrong!

Because the look in those young men’s eyes wasn’t the ordinary anger or fervor of common folks, but a cold-blooded ruthlessness.

He felt as if he was the target of a venomous snake, a chilling sensation creeping up his spine.

Before he could react, the young man he had punched was already lunging at him again.

This time was different from before; just as Mike managed to block a heavy punch, he felt a coldness in his chest.

He looked down, somewhat dazed, and under the dim light of the bar, he saw a glinting dagger buried in his chest.

Then, the dagger was pulled out, and plunged back in...

Mike’s mind went blank. What on earth had happened...

In the corner of his eye, he saw the girl named Dasha not even glancing in his direction as she turned and walked out of the bar.