My American magical life
Chapter 537 - 537 88 Haha Mi'er my dear sister 9168 not tricking readers_3

537: Chapter 88 Haha, Mi’er, my dear sister (9168 not tricking readers)_3 537: Chapter 88 Haha, Mi’er, my dear sister (9168 not tricking readers)_3 America is a federal nation, with states having varying degrees of autonomy, and the fact that Senate seats are elected locally ensures the existence of family dynasties in politics—playing the game of family dynasties in the 21st century isn’t unique to the American version; it’s just that the concept of dynasties has never been phased out.

Why do so many people uphold conservatism?

Because there are real interests at stake!

In modern society, many things considered ‘natural’ are actually the result of propaganda; central-local contradictions have never disappeared in any country, at any time.

The logic is simple—we all carry a head on our shoulders, so why should your word or decree take away our interests?

I oppose you.

Are you going to kill me for it?

Come on, if you kill me, your legitimacy is gone!

Not going to kill me, are you?

Then I’m going to take a dump right in front of you!

(Metaphorically)

I know it’s excessive for me to do this, but isn’t it excessive for your decree to affect our interests?

The power of local families in America is so great that any intelligent American can clearly feel it—the editors at “Yilin” “Reader” might not have this experience, which is why they produce articles that wouldn’t even serve to wipe one’s ass.

“What are you planning to do with your OC, Mi’er, are you thinking of switching to dealing in arms?”

Alexandra’s question was very interesting; she realized that Mi’er had big plans.

The raven-haired rich lady shook her head and said with a smile.

“Of course not, it’s just that I see an opportunity.

However, the capital is not quite sufficient, and I also need to consider the risks, which is why I want to pull in more people.”

Sandi rolled her eyes; Temir’s response was pretty much like a fart, offering no useful information.

“How much do you plan to value OC at?”

“One billion and a half should be okay, I guess.”

The raven-haired rich lady tidied her hair and replied nonchalantly.

One and a half billion dollars, an amount that could instigate a coup in some African countries, seemed trivial in Mi’er’s mouth.

“That’s a bit high, Mi’er.

I was only expecting around eight hundred million; you’ve doubled it.”

Alexandra wasn’t too surprised; she merely expressed her thoughts.

It’s just negotiation—you jack up the price, I’ve got good knife skills too, let’s just talk it out slowly.

“Let’s talk about it later, I need to go out and meet someone.”

The raven-haired rich lady didn’t say much; she could bring these people together for discussion later.

In fact, Temir was also taking a page from CEO Cheng’s playbook.

Cheng Daqi himself was just an ordinary person, but he managed to hunt down Accountant Jia and even dared to take Temir to visit the Dracula Family with Wolf to discuss how to kill his own father.

The logic behind it was that CEO Cheng formed his own force by tying various interests and colluding partnerships together.

He might not have significant influence over each link in this force, but by connecting them, he gathered these people and power together.

Every era has its share of clever people, but often, the clever are unwilling to take risks.

Cheng Daqi took many risks and thus reaped a rich harvest.

Temir was now trying to form a force of her own, but her scope or focus was much higher than CEO Cheng’s.

Cheng Daqi’s connections were mostly local Californians like Gru, Eris, Wolf, Crusoe, and others, all based in California.

But the raven-haired rich lady’s ambitions went beyond a single state; she aimed to forge a small influential group within the Republican Party.

This group might seem small for now, but even people like Sandi and Giorgio, in another ten or twenty years, would be the real controllers of America—having partial control is a form of control.

This type of non-official organization is actually an embryonic form of legendary organizations such as the Illuminati; Mi’er’s current status might not be high enough, so she’s seeking out inheritors, not the real power wielders.

But that was enough, after all, where is there a game that can be beaten right from the start?

She decided to try stepping into the game of power; before this, she had made up her mind.

Temir believed she had the courage to go on because he was also walking this path alongside her.

—————–

A few imposing black Mercedes-Benz cars were parked outside the house of the raven-haired rich lady.

A man nearly two meters tall stood at the entrance of the house, his hands idly in his pockets.

Upon seeing Temir emerge, he finally smiled and greeted her.

“Ha, Mi’er, my dear sister, it’s been a long time.

I almost don’t recognize your face, but you’re still very beautiful.”

The person Temir was going to meet was her own brother, an audacious guest who had turned up uninvited.

It seemed she didn’t have a proper status to say these words, and in fact, her relationship with her brother was almost a matter of life and death.

They just hadn’t fallen out openly yet.

But today, Achilles Karamaklis had come without notice.

Achilles was the greatest warrior in Greek stories, and true to his name, this man was built like a bull; even a suit couldn’t hide his explosively muscular physique.

He merely stood there to greet her, exuding an extraordinary pressure on Mi’er.

(Henry Cavill, the actor who played Superman and the Witcher—actually, he’s a nerd, but his appearance and style are how I imagine Achilles Karamaklis)

Ignoring the sting in Achilles’s words, Mi’er stepped forward and hugged him.

“Decent.”

“Siblings’ affection.”

“I didn’t expect you to come.

Actually, I considered inviting you to witness the moment, but I knew you seemed to be busy with something in Turkey, so I didn’t want to trouble you.”