My American magical life
Chapter 525 - 525 85 He Established His Own Chessboard_2

525: Chapter 85: He Established His Own Chessboard_2 525: Chapter 85: He Established His Own Chessboard_2 Others make a comfortable living through legislation and fiscal strategies, why would someone like CEO Cheng need to get fleeced by them?

But this logic is something you can’t really explain to Scott; instead, Cheng Daqi finds conspiracy theories far more persuasive to him.

“Chan, but I…

I’m just an ordinary guy with only a high school diploma, my wife even got stolen by a black man, I’ve never been involved in politics, I’ve even been homeless, would anyone support me?”

Scott isn’t stupid—after all, how could someone who served eight years in Afghanistan come back unscathed by drugs or STDs?

These issues he mentioned were indeed significant stains on his record, yes, stains.

America is a place of elitist politics, where the culture favors the strong, not the failures—pirate civilizations were somewhat like this, somewhat raw and savage.

In Hua Country there are countless heroes who rise to glory after humiliation, seen as true heroes emerging from humble beginnings.

In the West, even if you beat all your opponents, they’ll still sneeringly call you ‘the dwarf from Corsica.’

Attacking age, looks, background, education, achievements, family, even accents—it’s all too common in American politics (just look at the attacks during the elections of Domo, Hi, and Deng, for example).

The so-called public intellectuals from “Yilin” and “Readers” try their best to fabricate stories of Western civilization, but just one look at an American election and their ridiculous tales fall apart.

“Cort, so you’re actually a bit tempted, you want to give it a shot, don’t you?”

Cheng Daqi noticed Scott’s worries and understood his shortcomings, but CEO Cheng’s approach was never ordinary.

The blond veteran took a deep breath, looked at CEO Cheng with a smile, and responded.

“Not really, I…”

Approaching thirty, Scott had nothing to his name, his life up to now was just a series of failures.

He was a failure before he met Cheng Daqi, and even more so after—not even gaining followers as rapidly as Kernor.

He developed a sense of learned helplessness, failing over and over, growing more and more tense inside.

He worked painstakingly and seriously on his content, only to have those grave and rigid videos lead to even greater failures.

The blond veteran didn’t have the guts to go after the pie in the sky that Cheng Daqi painted anymore.

“Be a man and tell me, do you want to be a congressman, be a political star in America, be someone who even your enemies have to take seriously?

Tell me, do you want to or not!”

Cheng Daqi interrupted the blond veteran’s attempts to dodge and refuse with a loud voice, speaking rapidly while gazing intently at his pitiable old friend.

Scott, give me an answer.

I’m willing to give you a chance, but only if you dare to take it, if you have the ambition.

If a man with nothing doesn’t have the courage to even try, or the ambition and desire to break through his predicament, then no matter how much I help, it will be in vain!

“Yes, I want it!

Of course, I do.

Who wouldn’t want that, to be the center of attention, the star of the party, everyone, everyone desires success!”

The blond veteran got up from his seat, pacing restlessly in CEO Cheng’s office.

“But does my wishful thinking make a difference?

Chan, you’re handsome and smart, with vision and excellent communication skills.

You can easily handle investors and employees, and even if you don’t do business to become a legislator, you could climb Capitol Hill.

But Chan, I’m not like you.

I can’t even handle making short videos, how could I possibly be a congressman?”

The blond veteran’s blood pressure rose, and his cheeks reddened with emotion.

CEO Cheng smiled and said with amusement.

“Cort, I’ve had mathematicians calculate it.

After considering enough models, they concluded that I have a 7% chance of becoming Great Commander of America.

Seven percent.

I’m not much of a gambler, so I don’t fancy Capitol Hill, but if you want to run, I would support you, ensuring you won’t lose.

More importantly, I don’t have many people I can trust around me.

Huge interests can bring allies without bottom lines, but they would betray me for even greater benefits.

I need you to help me, my friend.”

CEO Cheng’s 7% chance was shockingly convincing, especially to someone like Scott with limited education, who took it quite seriously.

“That’s the position of Great Commander, Chan, 7% is already pretty high.”

“So what?

Let me tell you a little secret, not much of one since any American elementary student could work it out.

The mortality rate of America’s Great Commander in office is among the highest of any profession, so high it makes statistical comparison meaningless—their mortality rate is 17.8%.

Cort, I can support your campaign for congressman, but I wouldn’t want you to die in office, so I might not support your run for Great Commander.”

CEO Cheng’s macabre joke left Scott uncertain whether he should laugh.

“But what if I still fail, Chan?

Maybe my capacity is only suitable for driving, perhaps it’s better not to trouble you.”

Scott longed for an opportunity but knew he had botched too many chances, so he didn’t want to owe anyone favors.

“Fine, Domo and I started a new company, and I’ve invested a little money.

You can come over and keep an eye on things for me, take a minor management role or be a driver, whatever you feel like doing.”