Chapter 155: But God Will Save (10)
“I hear the central government has decided to soon merge the Ability Armed Forces Department, the Ability Industry Construction Department, and the Ability Resources Development Department into a single Ability General Bureau. Who does Secretary Gao expect to take the positions of inaugural director and deputy director? It’ll be a role wielding truly immense power.”
One of the communist capitalists kicked off the conversation like that, and Gao Xusen—who was lounging in the center seat of the large empty table, arms spread wide and legs crossed—curled one corner of his mouth upward asymmetrically.
“What does it matter who from which faction gets the spot? Just sit back, watch, and hop on board the winning bandwagon when the tide turns. They’ll come begging for me on their own. That’s the value I hold right now, don’t you think?”
The room erupted in raucous laughter, everyone agreeing with his brazen confidence. Gao Xusen pulled his hand from the cleavage of the woman beside him and formed a circle with his thumb and forefinger.
“The key is the budget. Budget. A second National Fund is about to be established—on a scale rivaling the original, an overwhelming sum of money. We need to pull in as much of it as we can.”
A communist noble chimed in with agreement. “Exactly! The existing fund got squandered away to those greedy incompetents who only knew how to pocket it! Things have to change now. Only patriots like you, Secretary, with your brilliant talents and selfless devotion to the nation, can achieve the great cause of ability rise!”
The other sycophants piled on, each raising their voices in fervent support. The National Fund—officially the “National Integrated Circuit Industry Investment Fund”—was the monstrous state fund China had created for its so-called semiconductor rise.
The low-ranking noble who’d spoken first, slurring slightly from the booze, launched into a tirade. “The country pours hundreds of billions of yuan into self-sufficiency in semiconductors every year! How many companies took the investment and just vanished? Thieves, that’s what they are—incompetent thieves! Tsinghua Unigroup was on the brink of bankruptcy despite some results, and Wuhan Hongxin couldn’t even finish building its factory before collapsing. What a horrific, terrifying disaster! After twenty years of the Party and people united in effort, half of it’s gone down the drain!”
The room buzzed with agreement, everyone chiming in to denounce the thieves bleeding the national coffers dry. I sipped from the glass Liu Linfei had refilled, masking my expression.
Same assholes shaking in their boots.
The communist nobles tangled in the semiconductor push had siphoned off at least 10 trillion won into their own pockets each year. That’s how their secret vaults filled up so easily. To reiterate: the Chinese Communist Party was the world’s largest crime syndicate.
The intoxicated speaker pressed on. “The ability rise must not repeat the semiconductor debacle! First off, private ability mercenary corps! Handing arms to private individuals means the budget support conditions should prioritize the corps leader’s patriotism, followed by their actual prowess, right?”
His gaze flicked subtly toward me. “...If those two are solid, we wouldn’t hesitate to pour ten billion—no, a hundred billion yuan into a single corps every year! Isn’t that the lesson from the semiconductor rise, where overeager investments everywhere led to total wipeout? One genius beats ten thousand mediocrities! One elite group outshines ten thousand half-baked ones!”
On the surface, it was “we can all feast together as long as results come out.” But the subtext, with patriotism flagged first, was a sly temptation: Change your citizenship and join the feast.
Everyone here had likely gotten the host’s prior nudge. It might seem like shallow scheming, but put a beauty at your side and liquor in front, and any normal male’s brain starts to stall—unless you swung the other way.
Drunk on his own rhetoric, the low-rank noble yanked the woman on his left roughly toward him. “What do you think, huh? Does Uncle’s words ring true?”
His grip was harsh, the pull inconsiderate; half the liquor in her glass spilled out. She flashed a pained expression for a split second, then switched back to a beaming smile and raised her glass high.
“Yes! Uncle’s always right! Little Weiwei trusts Uncle completely!”
“That’s right! You pretty thing! Let’s do a shot!”
“Sure! Crossed arms, like lovers—crossed arms!”
They crossed arms dramatically and downed their glasses, prompting the rest of the room to follow suit, one after another, adding another round of intoxication. The atmosphere naturally demanded you drink.
Liu Linfei, who’d been eyeing me expectantly, snuggled into my lap and looped her glass-holding hand behind my neck. Her face inches from mine, breaths mingling, she looked up into my eyes.
“L-like this... is it okay?”
“Asking permission for something so trivial.”
This willing tool of seduction wanted the pose where bodies pressed together, glasses emptied over each other’s shoulders. She’d only been nibbling at her drink until now, but she drained it in one go over my shoulder. Waiting for my glass to empty, she uncoiled her arm, slowly withdrew, swept her side-swept hair behind her ear, and said with flushed cheeks,
“Did you know?”
“Know what?”
“Back in the Zhou Dynasty, this crossed-arms drink was a marriage rite.”
“Hm?”
“Also called hejin—sharing a bridal cup of he huan jiu. The ‘jin’ character also refers to the musical instrument played at weddings by bride and groom.”
“Impressive. How do you know all that?”
“Learned it in a liberal arts class in college. I graduated top of my major, you know.”
“That is impressive.”
“Heehee. Praise accepted.”
Liu Linfei’s shy delight was so genuine—even my vitals couldn’t distinguish truth from lie. Then again, the most potent lies always mix in truth. Times like this, I was glad for my goggle-eyes. Better a head case than a total dumbfuck, right?
As I buried my face in her hair, pretending to savor the scent, the host clapped to draw attention and pumped up the mood. “Vice President! Speaking of which, aren’t you the one man who could take on ten thousand? Every time you helped me fight, you charged the front lines, slaughtering those Black Sea Party rebels!”
“You flatter me.”
“Come on, no need for false modesty! Why not regale us with some tales from the Great Subjugation? Let everyone here realize what legendary heroes they’re sharing a table with!”
Forcing self-aggrandizing boasts was a childish order. Recalling Kyung-tae’s usual antics helped. Mimic even half of his style, and it was behavior I could only pull off drunk and swept up in the vibe back in my green days.
I added a touch of feigned slur and Kyung-tae flair, spinning tales of butchering Black Sea Party scum. The room responded with unrestrained cheers.
Flattery like this turns men into idiots. All dark cocks in the room? Maybe not. But nothing paralyzes a male brain like praise from alluring females.
Cool. Amazing. No one else could do it.
An puffed-up male’s primed for regretful decisions later. If he’s got brains left to regret, that is. I’d seen plenty of fools I’d duped with the same trick rationalize their screw-ups endlessly. Face—what’s that worth?
Wrapping up the sanitized, detail-light exploits, Gao Xusen led thunderous applause. “Incredible, truly! How can you be so fearless? Share the secret with me and everyone here.”
“The secret... well...”
I paused dramatically, then dropped a sincere brag. “Napoleon had this to say.”
“What?”
“‘Generals who save fresh troops for the day after battle almost always lose. If necessary, commit your last soldier. For after complete victory, no enemy remains to fight.’”
“Oh ho.”
“To me, I am that last soldier—the strongest, most reliable force I trust above all. So when adding myself to the fray promises a more total victory, I charge without hesitation. It minimizes losses or maximizes gains. No other secret but practicing that knowledge. The more I practice, the stronger I get.”
“Hmph.”
Gao Xusen chewed woman-fed food with exaggerated nods. “Practice. Yes, practice. Everyone knows the ‘secrets’ in their head. Failure to act is the problem. That’s what separates mortals from heroes, right? What do you all think?”
His tossed question boomeranged back as effusive endorsements, propping me up again. Then my pocket buzzed with a smartphone notification. A quick glance: a short message from Suyeon.
Package 1: the families of Hushan Liang, one of the three inspectors I’d turned. The other two—Zhang Tailong and Panhai Shan’s kin—would board smuggling ships before dawn. Each routed differently to Abu Dhabi. Future daddy-bird comms with families would run through the org’s Macau tourism firm’s members-only board and sat-phones from Miju.
“Having a man who defies ten thousand advise my Huacheng Menglong Corps—how reassuring! Right?”
Huacheng Menglong Corps. Huacheng was Guangzhou’s moniker; menglong meant fierce dragon. Roughly: Guangzhou’s Ferocious Dragons.
Low nobles, clueless on details, tossed polished praise at the “advisor” news. Gao Xusen, flaunting his private army, turned the questioning arrow my way.
“How do you rate my corps’ business potential, Vice President?”
“...If they monopolize government contracts, it’d be hard not to make money. Even in the US, embassy or overseas base security pays over $500,000 per guard annually. Simple facility protection fetches millions to tens of millions a year.”
Liu Linfei shifted slightly on my thigh; I supported her casually and continued. “No reason this vast continent—crawling with Black Sea Party remnants—should lag behind US outposts. Plus, Belt and Road nations will soon explode with security demand. Isn’t that right?”
“Of course! Chinese assets must be guarded by Chinese hands!”
No Belt and Road participant escaped rising anti-China sentiment. “Investment” meant bribing pols, burying nations in debt, then swallowing them whole. China would increasingly rely on PMCs or private security firms to defend entrenched hegemony and interests. Armed ability groups’ prime path lay there.
“If Beijing aims to cultivate top firms like Dyncorps or Draken International, they could eventually secure billions in annual fixed income from military op support, air contracts, training aid, regional policing. The US State and Defense Depts already spend that.”
“Billions! Sounds like a dream! Haha!”
My examples: massive private security giants, even running their own air ops. Draken famously flew over a hundred supersonic attackers—outgunning many air forces.
Gao Xusen sobered, asking again. “It’ll happen someday. But as a brother and successful businessman, I want your take on immediate viability. Anything to leapfrog rivals? Snag a bigger investment slice, and we accelerate that future you described.”
“Immediate viability, huh.”
I toyed with the woman in my lap like the other nobles and capitalists, feigning scattered thoughts, then tossed out casually,
“Then why not run a farm?”