My American magical life
Chapter 285 - 285 124 Saint Veronica and the Cat-and-Mouse Game_2

285: Chapter 124 Saint Veronica and the Cat-and-Mouse Game_2 285: Chapter 124 Saint Veronica and the Cat-and-Mouse Game_2 “Miss, you might need to come out and receive our guest, Mr.

Dracula has suddenly arrived.”

The black-haired wealthy woman’s pupils shrank, Dracula was here?

The unlucky Lao Deng, I didn’t even invite you, what are you doing here?

In America’s myriad social circles, no matter which one you looked at, Temir had nothing to do with Dracula.

This old vampire Dracula was a Shamite Wanderer, while Temir was a standard Greek descendant.

Dracula was over thirty years older than Temir, and, by the usual calculus of a generation gap being three years, he was far too distant from her.

This evening, Temir had invited scholars and artists, which is why she was on the second floor, letting her subordinates handle the reception.

Yet now, with Dracula’s uninvited arrival, Temir, out of politeness, must personally greet him.

At the garden’s main entrance, old Dracula stood admiring the religious paintings on the exquisite mural, with Demon Dracula standing obediently by his side.

Glancing at Demon, Temir could not determine which Demon this was, but she still approached gracefully and said,

“Uncle Dracula, long time no see, I didn’t expect you to come today.”

Indeed, Temir’s father had dealt with Dracula when he was younger; from this point of view, there was no issue with her calling Dracula ‘uncle’.

What she implied was, she hoped that Dracula would be aware of his stature; everyone was respectable here, and as an elder, he should refrain from causing trouble tonight.

Old Dracula turned and gave Temir a look, with a nauseatingly fake smile, he said courteously,

“I heard you invited Matt Heimowitz; Demon wanted to see him, and it just so happened that I had some time.”

Disingenuous, deceptive, full of perfunctory excuses, Dracula went on to say,

“This is Saint Veronica, if I’m not mistaken?”

The black-haired wealthy woman patted Demon’s head, ending their conversation and then responded,

“Yes, Uncle Dracula, I’ve arranged the best seat for Demon and you, please follow me.”

The garden concert hadn’t started yet, and Temir indicated that she could fulfill Demon’s request.

“Hahaha, Matt Heimowitz doesn’t come to the West Coast very often, I really am looking forward to a good seat.”

However, while on the way, Dracula suddenly asked a strange question.

“I wonder what’s going on with Niu Sen; I’ve invited him several times and he doesn’t give me face.”

He made it clear, old Dracula was here tonight to see Niu Sen!

“Perhaps he’s just busy,”

the black-haired wealthy woman replied noncommittally as she nodded her head in greeting to other guests while holding Demon’s hand.

She was well aware of Dracula’s issues, but she didn’t want to get involved.

Back then, old Dracula thought his opportunistic switch was a stroke of genius, but now, it seemed he was spattered with mud.

(That man’s unreliable, he can’t even sort out his own party)

The Dracula Group was big and powerful, so of course, it wouldn’t suffer any immediate negative impact, but old Dracula indeed found himself in an awkward situation of being unwelcome on both sides.

Indeed, tonight he was here to win back his ‘ex-girlfriend’.

Temir saw it clearly; this Lao Deng wanted to have his cake and eat it too, given that his base was tightly bound with the military, enabling him to sway from side to side.

He wanted to switch sides without giving up his allegiance.

As a pharmaceutical group closely cooperating with the military, he wouldn’t be in danger, but Dracula was too proud to accept this.

“The Governor of California, heh, he’s too self-important,”

the old vampire settled into his seat, seemingly still wanting to spar with Temir verbally, but having held a high position for too long, he had forgotten how to speak normally with people.

Moreover, this Lao Deng wasn’t dealing with some inept youngster; Temir had been determined to compete with her brother for the family fortune since she was young, and not speaking carelessly was an instinct etched into her very bones.

“Demon, if you want any desserts, just tell the waiter; I’ve hired a few top pastry chefs especially for you tonight,”

said Temir, ignoring Dracula’s comments and having a brief chat with Demon before leaving.

Dracula might be formidable, but Caramacris was no less capable.

When acknowledging him, Temir called him ‘Uncle Dracula.’

When snubbing him, Temir genuinely dared to ignore his foolish talk.

Upon the black-haired wealthy woman’s departure, Dracula was left out in the cold, but a real bigshot like him didn’t mind such trifles.

Dracula noticed Gru with Jax and said to his follower,

“Call that policeman over, I want to meet him.”

Before Niu Sen arrived, Dracula chose to find something to do for himself.

——

Cheng Daqi was taking Zhao Hongjin around to eat; they were both exhausted today.

After helping Gru quickly establish his requirements in the afternoon, CEO Cheng started working on videos with Zhao Hongjin.

Currently, the first videos on all four of Sister Zhao’s accounts were ready.

Once Shanhaiguan got the four accounts set up tomorrow, she could make her debut.

“Daqi, you definitely can’t guess how absurd the sign I held at noon was.

You do understand what I mean by absurd, right?”

The girl with the peach blossom eyes spoke of her filming experience today while eating strawberries.

“I might understand.

The world is a huge elephant, and each of us is like blind men feeling the elephant.

So, abstraction is a lash at the world.”

Cheng Daqi certainly understood; he chose to respond to Zhao Hongjin with a foolish-sounding but prophetic statement.

“That’s so cool, wow, Daqi, you just had the air of a martial arts expert.”

Her sparkling eyes seemed to laugh at the interesting reply from Cheng Daqi.

“Which martial arts expert likes to drink cola?

I’m not any martial arts expert.

You make it sound as if I’m an old man.”

Cheng Daqi’s cup was full of cola; his main focus was being happy tonight.

Recently, everything had been going smoothly, and CEO Cheng was happy to relax a bit.

“No, I mean you just dropped a really cool line but remained completely composed.”

The girl with the peach blossom eyes ate another strawberry and after a pause, she said,

“About holding the sign, those people were paid eighty Dollars each, had makeup artists for them, and then a group of guys held signs protesting against the Republican Party’s discrimination of sexual minorities.

A bunch of guys dressed as women for eighty Dollars, they’re so…

I don’t mean you, you’re different from them.”

Realizing Cheng Daqi was staring at her, Zhao Hongjin hurriedly explained, worried he might misunderstand.

CEO Cheng just smiled; that was not what concerned him.

“I did day jobs like that too, but I used to earn a hundred Dollars each time.

Now they can find people for even eighty.”

His own experiences were quite similar to Zhao Hongjin’s, both of which strongly evidenced that in America, what’s called ‘holding a sign’ had mutated into capitalism’s game.

Capitalism dictates what the sign-holders say.

As long as you have money, anybody could hire a bunch of poor people to promote even the most outrageous ideass.

“You did this kind of day job, too?” Zhao Hongjin hadn’t expected Cheng Daqi to have such an experience.

CEO Cheng stood in front of the dining table, recounting his past acquaintances with Eris to the girl with the peach blossom eyes.

“So that’s how it is.

America’s election model has big problems, but isn’t there anybody regulating it?”

Attracted by Cheng Daqi’s interesting story, Zhao Hongjin pondered the issue further after giving it some thought.

All these stunts for votes, why is the regulatory system missing in action?

“There are regulations, and plenty of them; tax regulation, fairness regulation, financial regulation, legality regulation.

The more detailed the regulatory systems, the more loopholes there are to exploit.

As they fix old bugs, new ones will definitely appear.

But at its core, it’s a cat and mouse game.

Regulation in America, controlled by capital, is the cat, while the election contestants shrouded in capital are the mice.

Their relationship is actually self-serving.”

Cheng Daqi never had faith in America’s election model; it’s too outdated and too complicated, doomed to become riddled with abuse.

“Self-serving?

But aren’t the two parties supposed to supervise each other?

Are you implying that behind the scenes, the people in both parties are actually on the same side?”

Zhao Hongjin was smart; she picked up on the details Cheng Daqi hadn’t mentioned.

“Well, you see, isn’t the niece of a Republican senator having a delightful chat with the California Governor over there?”

Following Cheng Daqi’s gaze, Zhao Hongjin saw that Temir was chatting away merrily with Niu Sen.

They seemed to be enjoying themselves.