My American magical life
Chapter 1084: 127: Someone Feels as if Thrown into an Ice Cave 2.0_2

Chapter 1084: Chapter 127: Someone Feels as if Thrown into an Ice Cave 2.0_2

So, just like Lao Jia wants to bury Sun Zhounye, Gru also wants to ensure that Lake is definitely dead.

This demand, he can’t make to Mr. Cheng because a scoundrel like Mr. Cheng would never take such a promise seriously.

Gru, as a character, dares to suggest it, Cheng Daqi dares to believe it, thinking that keeping Lake around to balance him out is really useful…

Wouldn’t that be more troublesome?

So, why not stoke the fire for Niusen’s cold stove.

Speaking of which, they used to be intimate friends.

“Lake, at least make sure he and his cronies are kicked out of LAPD, Governor, isn’t this a reasonable request?”

Fifty kilograms of gold, approximately equals four million dollars.

To ensure the plan’s success, Gru spared no expense.

He spent nearly ten million dollars to send Army One to Mr. Cheng, and another four hundred thousand in gold to Niusen; his money is nearly drained.

“Not too much, not too much.”

The Governor gently touched the contour of the box, weighing his options.

Gru sent five boxes, each with ten kilograms of gold; Niusen was actually shocked.

Not because of Gru’s generosity, but because of what Gru’s actions represent.

You’re so obedient under Cheng Daqi’s command, but you choose to spend a fortune to buy me off for reasonable demands instead of speaking up?

Why weren’t you afraid of me back when you were under my command?

Am I really that far behind him?

Unfortunately, these are matters that make the Governor feel bitter.

He doesn’t understand how Mr. Cheng’s tactics are so dark that Gru fears him.

Gru sent a super armored vehicle just to curry favor with Mr. Cheng, but he didn’t expect Mr. Cheng to investigate the feasibility of drone assaults from above.

Compared to capitalists who directly manipulate the strings of order, gang leaders like Gru and Capen can be somewhat laughable.

“So, how do you plan to deal with Gasetti?”

Gru asked curiously.

He knew his skills weren’t as high as Mr. Cheng’s and Niusen’s, so he’s willing to humbly seek advice on parts he doesn’t understand.

“Act? No need to act, just apply pressure gradually, Gasetti isn’t some formidable figure, his rise was mainly due to his wife’s family’s influence.

The family’s decisions aren’t based on one person’s opinion or interests, and Gasetti’s wife doesn’t have much say within the family.

Pressure him gradually, and he’ll naturally shrink back. Haven’t you noticed he hasn’t shown any intention to counteract so far?”

Niusen’s explanation actually concealed many details and ignored numerous intricacies.

For instance, applying pressure on Gasetti is part of Niusen and the California Clique’s internal struggle within the Democratic Party; once they win within the party, Gasetti will be outmatched by Mr. Cheng in San Rodolfo.

On the other hand, the mayor of one of America’s biggest cities is not as weak as he claims.

It’s even fair to say Niusen is mistaken in his assessment of San Rodolfo’s situation.

Gasetti doesn’t counter Mr. Cheng because neither Mr. Cheng nor Wolf is too damn good at suppressing risks.

They keep talking big but refraining from rash actions, and their subordinate constraints are strict.

It’s like two Hunters meeting on a narrow path; Mr. Cheng and Wolf don’t act, how dare Gasetti make the first move?

Whoever acts first is likely to show a flaw.

Black Satan tried to win him over, but Gasetti refused.

Wolf offered face-to-face, raising a glass in toast.

Cheng Daqi’s private prison project bill passed the City Council, and Gasetti didn’t block it.

To force Gasetti to act first, Mr. Cheng even started arranging Gru to let his gang show vulnerabilities, but Gasetti just wouldn’t take the bait—he was too steady.

The trivial benefits can be let go, but I won’t budge, let’s see what you want to do!

“So, how do you plan to deal with Lake?” Gru asked.

Niusen squinted his eyes and said.

“Haven’t thought it through yet, do you have any plans?”

Gru cursed silently, thinking Niusen, you sly dog, can’t be this dumb.

He’s forcing Gru to show some sincerity.

After dealing with Mr. Cheng for so long, would Niusen believe Gru’s nonsense?

The Governor is certain this matter isn’t simple!

“Chan is suppressing me, he wants to use Lake’s hand to eliminate the ‘excess weight’ inside my gang first, then cooperate with you to deal with Lake.”

Niusen noticed the issue.

He quickly asked.

“Wait, he said to cooperate with us? Are you sure he said that?”

“Yes, aren’t we now joined together for our mutual interests?” Gru asked in surprise.

“He didn’t say cooperate, the power struggle within the Democratic Party is my responsibility, what’s there to cooperate? We each handle our own parts, things will naturally…”

Niusen remembered Will’s responsibilities include helping Wolf find a partner.

The governor felt as if he had fallen into an ice cellar, version 2.0.

Offending the California Clique, Wolf, and the Great Commander all at once.

Chan, are you really not afraid of dying?

—————–

“Flynn, Flynn, now everyone outside is speculating that I ordered the assassination of the Nigerian ambassador. They call me BIGMAN; you know they’re talking nonsense.

But if your investigation concludes this, then I can only say, their scheme has succeeded, so, have you betrayed me?”

Sometimes the Great Commander was quite desperate.

He knew there weren’t that many bugs in Washington D.C.

These bastards were clearly very smart, but never used their wits to get things done.

They’re obsessed with scheming, they love to weave plots to gain illicit benefits.

This is the climate in Washington D.C., something that he, as the Great Commander, couldn’t change.

But now, he was almost being beaten into a punching bag by the Democratic Party, while the subordinates he appointed were still indifferent.

Facing rebuke from his benefactor and superior, Flynn bitterly responded.

“Sir, the fact is just this simple… that’s the truth.”

“Are you saying those African black… people, just for two hundred thousand dollars, killed America’s ambassador in Nigeria?

Nobody would believe it, Flynn, you could treat me like an idiot, but others aren’t stupid!”

What could the Great Commander do? His power relied on these tentacles to be realized; he couldn’t sever them just because they weren’t functioning well—even though he had already cut many.

He knew Flynn was among the few relatively reliable confidants he had.

No choice, these are the only things his subordinates can be used for, and others cannot be trusted at all.

“Great Commander, you might be unfamiliar with the poverty of N Sudan, where the annual per capita income is less than a thousand dollars…”

The Great Commander angrily took a sip of cola and continued to ask.

“Alright, alright, next question—who hired them?”

“Don’t know…”

“The investigation team going to Nigeria, in all aspects, totals over two hundred people, and you tell me you don’t know?”

Flynn thought to himself, of those two hundred people, ninety percent were dummies, and among the remaining, eighty percent weren’t ours.

It seems like many people, but they’re all like a false army, Your Majesty!

“Sir, this matter, is difficult to investigate, if we truly find any results, what should we do?”

Is this something that can be investigated?

The ultimate question.

The Great Commander rarely fell silent, indeed, daring to kill America’s foreign ambassador was akin to an act of declaring direct war.

No matter whom the investigation results pin as the real culprit, it will end badly.

In all conceivable meanings, ending badly.

Perhaps the real culprit placed the blame on N Sudan’s tribal armed forces deliberately, calculating this move.

After a long silence, the Great Commander finally made up his mind.

“Investigate, continue to investigate.”

“Continue to investigate?” Flynn confirmed his superior’s command in surprise.

“Investigate for now, understand?”

The Great Commander let out a long sigh, the cruelty of the game lay in the fact that some risks must be dared to bear.

To retreat step by step would make him a puppet on the stage.

Even though many in MAGA considered him a moderate, the Great Commander was also daring to draw his sword when it was time to do so.

“Understood, I will report the progress to you timely, Sir.”

The National Security Assistant gave his guarantee.

Putting down the phone, the Great Commander walked out of his room.

He saw his eldest granddaughter playing with his younger granddaughter on the lawn of Lake House Manor; he noticed the Special Service Bureau security personnel patrolling in the distance.

Though on vacation, the Great Commander still enjoyed the highest level of security.

But ultimately, he was also an old man, a man in his seventies.

He wanted to spend leisure time with his grandchildren, but he had no retreat.

A person’s lifetime achievements consist of factors of proactive actions as well as adapting to the course of the era.

He had created a unique movement; he had become a leader.

This put him in a high place, but also made him reluctant to give up.

Perhaps he had already been swept along and controlled by inertia; ideals and realities, personal pursuits and the striving to face challenges, how could they be clearly distinguished?

Florida’s summer scenery was bright and beautiful, yet the leader of the Empire inexplicably shivered.

He decided to use that supreme power, and as for the price, it remained unseen for now.