My American magical life
Chapter 1046: 114: Don't let the bastards lead you by the nose!!!

Chapter 1046: Chapter 114: Don’t let the bastards lead you by the nose!!!

The cluttered table was covered with pizza delivery boxes and several empty wine bottles.

A knock on the door startled the weary journalists who had worked all night without going home. He stood up and opened the office door.

“Fak, this place looks like a junk heap!”

Mr. Jacob pushed the door open, pinched his nose in disgust, and complained.

“Nigerian pizza is better than Washington D.C.’s. Jacob, you should try it too.”

The journalists gradually woke up. Jacob put down the coffee he brought for them, grabbed a chair, and got down to business.

“I know you just pulled an all-nighter, but folks, perk up and get ready to go!

Thanks to my efforts, the Nigerian ambassador has agreed to an interview with us!”

Being a fourth estate agent is incredibly difficult. Jacob was serving the California Clique, pulling in a group of Donkey Party media people to Nigeria to ‘investigate evidence’. He had to produce some results.

That’s why he was so eager to pry big news from the Nigerian ambassador.

—————–

“Probably the same old story. I remember the Nigerian ambassador is near retirement age, right?”

A photographer familiar with Jacob carried his equipment and sat next to Jacob. They were on their way to the American Embassy in Nigeria.

“Well, you could look at it that way. He’s part of the Bush Family, and according to the age cap for ambassadors, he indeed needs to consider post-retirement issues.”

Jacob, reminded by the photographer, suddenly thought of many things.

Among over two hundred people in the Bush Family, the Nigerian ambassador was among the least successful. Wasn’t he considering his life after retirement?

At this thought, Jacob took out his phone and dialed Geweil’s number.

“Jacob, is there a problem?”

Will’s voice came from the phone, and the photographer sitting with Jacob in the back seat nonchalantly cleaned his equipment.

“Sir, is the Nigerian ambassador one of ours?” Jacob asked.

“No, but don’t worry. Just conduct the interview normally.”

Will was aware of Director Cheng’s arrangements—Temir had already secured the Secretary of State, so he remained calm.

This was a classic case of cross-party cooperation. Director Cheng and Niusen were having fun, but the one being sacrificed was the Great Commander, and he was sacrificed involuntarily.

This shows how traditional lawmakers like Kevin McCarthy, known for mastering cross-party cooperation, are unpopular.

Even if so-called cross-party cooperation doesn’t harm party interests, betraying the collective stance is a kind of crime in itself.

“Sir, I mean, why not spend a little money on the Nigerian ambassador?

There’s an age limit for serving ambassadors. He will retire in two years. If we give him some promises, just think about it….”

Will paused, thinking, but soon decided to stick to the plan.

“Mr. Jacob, I greatly appreciate your suggestion, but it seems we have limited options at the moment, you understand.”

Jacob didn’t quite understand what Geweil wanted him to grasp. Frustrated, he hung up and realized this might end up inconclusive again.

“How did it go?” Jacob’s fellow photographer asked.

“Not great. These people want to act but are unwilling to spend money, hoping we can do the decisive work for them. Ha, ridiculous!”

Jacob complained.

“Not necessarily. There’s another factor.” The photographer pointed with his finger to the car’s ceiling.

Jacob looked in the direction he pointed and saw only mud dots on the car’s sunroof glass.

“It’s difficult for a thorough victory in the struggles above. Our actions of biting the Great Commander are a kind of threat. Achieving this threat might be their goal.

As for bigger things, it’s not that they can’t afford to give, they’re just unwilling to—at least not now.”

The photographer appeared quite philosophical like a streetwise sage at that moment, speaking cryptically, embodying a full-blown pretending-to-be-profound demeanor.

“Don’t tell me you picked this up from some YouTube vlogger.” Jacob retorted.

“I met a new girlfriend. She’s the wife of Schumer’s news assistant.” The photographer winked in reply.

“Schumer’s news assistant? He knows that much?” Jacob was dubious.

“What do you know? She learned from Schumer.”

Jacob was flabbergasted, and cursed.

“Damn it!”

—————–

The Vid is the top luxury yacht under the famous West Coast yacht rental company. The previous owner was a super-rich Argentinian who had to sell the yacht to the rental company due to debt restructuring.

Now, it embarked on a journey of thousands of miles, starting from San Francisco, stopping in Osaka, Seoul, Dao Bei, HK, and now sailing through the waters of Donghua Country, with its next destination being Po County.

Its previous owner was forced to sell it due to bankruptcy, and today, another failure has boarded it.

Lao Jia was facing over thirty guests, including major investors in the BEC project, partners of Faraday Future, and business representatives from local governments of Hua Country.

This is part of Director Cheng’s road to his rebirth.

Standing on the small boat, Accountant Jia could see the group waiting for him at the railing edge of the Vid.

Though the Western Pacific’s waves are much smaller than the North Atlantic’s, for an average person, this sea journey still seems overly bumpy.

But Lao Jia thought otherwise; after weathering through tempests, these small waves were nothing at all.