My American magical life
Chapter 948 - 948 78 Swallowing a Whale Whole

948: Chapter 78: Swallowing a Whale Whole 948: Chapter 78: Swallowing a Whale Whole Why does Domo feel like he’s in utter darkness?

It’s a complex question.

Friends familiar with cosmology and physics all know that black holes aren’t particularly special—they’re merely one form of celestial existence, nothing more.

From a strictly physical perspective, the greater the mass of a black hole, the more it absorbs, making it increasingly difficult to sustain its own existence.

The romance of physics lies in its revelation of a spine-chilling possibility: the fundamental principles of the universe have a unity with the organizational forms of human society and individual existence.

This idea sounds convoluted, but when you focus such abstract theories on Cheng Daqi’s strategies and actions in his decisions, you can discern a concrete developmental trajectory.

As he slowly stepped onto the stage of history from having nothing, his foundation naturally took shape.

From staunch supporters like Temir and Li Haiping, to opportunistic schemers like Wolf and Achilles, to figures like Gru and Eris—these individuals, like different components, collectively formed an enticing possibility under Cheng Daqi’s orchestration.

In the beginning, he entered the game by leveraging others; now, he has become a force of his own—one capable of negotiating directly with Niusen, the California Rancher.

However, strong power comes from a sufficient number of relational connections, and such connections require maintenance costs.

Cheng Daqi must meet Wolf’s aspirations for progress, satisfy Old Crusoe’s greed, fulfill Lisa’s desire for personal value, and even indulge Li Haiping’s penchant for playing the Godfather.

Don’t be fooled by how Old Li acts as meek as a rabbit in front of Cheng Daqi; at his core, he is no different from Cheng’s other partners.

Now over fifty, his ambition remains undiminished—he’s found meaning in life through his role as Cheng’s dark agent.

All of this compels Cheng Daqi to press forward relentlessly.

His collaboration with Crusoe, Gru, and others in running private prisons is part of this forward push.

By extending his influence into the outsourcing of public services by local governments, Cheng Daqi’s forces are poised to reap enormous benefits—benefits that go far beyond economics.

This is a direct encroachment of private power upon governmental authority!

Domo isn’t completely ignorant.

While he may lack decisiveness or sufficient intelligence, he is at least cautious.

After Cheng Daqi left, Old Crusoe started calculating on his notebook how to manage the four-hundred-million-dollar deal.

Of course, he has actuaries who could help him, but Old Crusoe preferred to draft an initial plan himself so that he could better oversee his subordinates’ implementation.

Cheng said fifty million dollars was too little; he later spoke of a seventy-thirty split—calculating based on the four hundred million dollars, meaning their extractable portion.

“Father, I…” The chubby son regretted opening his mouth as soon as he spoke.

There was an unspoken emotion in his heart.

He understood what his father and his father’s associates were doing.

He wanted to say that their actions weren’t entirely appropriate, but his own position made it difficult to voice such objections.

“What is it?” Old Crusoe didn’t even lift his head, continuing his calculations at the desk.

“I don’t quite understand how you plan to finance the four hundred million.

If you approach those relevant civil servants or legislators, they might not have that much money to participate.”

Here lay the difference between the chubby son and Lisa.

Lisa hadn’t yet familiarized herself with her identity as a capitalist, while the chubby son came from a capitalist family.

He understood the adage “stagnation leads to regression.” In an era of increasing dollar depreciation, if capital doesn’t appreciate fast enough, it equates to asset shrinkage.

Thus, he had to put aside his inner hesitations—things he dared not express to his father—and probe into the specifics of the plan.

“Ha, they aren’t as poor as you think.

Besides, this form of special financing can itself be seen as a scarce resource.

If they don’t have enough funds, they can introduce this resource to others and earn a bit of commission as intermediaries.”

Old Crusoe and Cheng had never discussed these details because both of them understood how to proceed when it came to implementation.

“A mere 0.5% interest rate differential…

Father, can this genuinely be called a scarce resource?”

The chubby son couldn’t wrap his head around it.

According to Old Crusoe and Cheng’s consensus, the private prison project’s financing company would issue corporate bonds at a rate 0.5% higher than the market rate.

In market conditions, such corporate bonds didn’t offer much competitiveness, as many company bonds offered rates a full percentage point higher (Evergrande’s commercial papers being one type of corporate bond).

“Hahaha, see?

You’re still inexperienced.

Stop fussing over your little company and come join the financing company we’re about to establish as a manager.

I’ll assign you a few capable lobbyists—Benny from Chan’s side is enough on his own.

Let them guide you so you can truly experience America’s ruthless financial battleground.”

Old Crusoe’s scorn stung deeply.

The chubby son’s lips twitched, but in the end, he didn’t dare retort.

He was a man of average talent but clear self-awareness.

Even Cheng, who had started later and from a lower position, had risen to lead his father.

After all his own efforts, the chubby son had accomplished nothing.

“Yes, Father… But why is it a scarce resource?”

It was only because he was Old Crusoe’s biological son that the old man shot him a fierce look before explaining.

“It’s a backstop.

This project is additionally guaranteed by Crusoe Real Estate and West State Logistics.

The five-hundred-basis-point excess interest is practically a guaranteed profit.”