Genius Grandson Of The Loan Shark King

It was only natural that the Iraq War would end in America’s victory.

Which meant that the reconstruction projects that followed—the rebuilding of the war-torn Iraq—were once-in-a-lifetime chances to make astronomical profits. And it was obvious that those benefits would go almost entirely to American corporations.

The condition I put forward was something the United States could never accept.

“Rice!”

“No, Mr. Secretary. This isn’t even worth listening to. He’s demanding half of the reconstruction business in exchange for persuading Putin!”

“Sit down.”

“Absolutely not. President Bush would never approve of this.”

“I know. Sit.”

An agitated Rice finally sat back down and glared at me.

Ignoring her look, I waited for Powell’s response.

“Charlie, do you even realize how absurd your condition sounds?”

“Do I? I think it’s a bargain.” ƒree𝑤ebnσvel.com

I didn’t think my proposal was expensive at all. fгeewebnovёl.com

A war waged by America and her allies was one thing—but a war launched under the name of the United Nations was an entirely different matter.

It meant the board itself was being remade.

“We can’t accept that condition.”

“Then I have no reason to go out of my way to persuade Putin.”

“Charlie, this isn’t a simple matter. This is for world peace—”

World peace, he said. I almost laughed at the arrogance of equating America’s safety with the peace of the entire world.

I lightly shook my head, cutting Powell off.

“Let’s not say nonsense like peace or justice. Since when has war ever had peace or justice? Those are just insulting decorations. The war in Afghanistan might have been because of the damage America suffered, but the Iraq War is happening for America’s profit. You’re not going to deny that, are you?”

“......”

Powell, the general who commanded the Panama invasion, knew the nature of war better than anyone here.

That invasion had set a precedent—that the United States could bring a foreign nation’s leader before its own court—and it became a symbol of American might.

Afterward, Powell had commanded numerous operations like the Gulf War and risen as a war hero.

There was no way he didn’t know that every war ultimately existed for America’s interests.

The Iraq War, like the invasion of Panama, aimed to bring a sitting president—Hussein—to an American courtroom.

“If Russia abstains, that’s the same as taking America’s side. Even if the Cold War is over, it’s not easy for Russia to support the U.S. You do realize how enormous the political burden would be for Putin, don’t you?”

I had already received full authority from Putin. But no one in this room knew that.

So I intended to use that ignorance to extract as much as I could.

“If I make one wrong move, I could lose even the connection I have with Putin. And you’re telling me you can’t even promise me half of the reconstruction contracts? In that case, I see no reason to involve myself in something that gives me no gain. Powell, I’m a businessman. A businessman doesn’t do things that don’t make a profit.”

“Still... half is out of the question.”

The Iraq reconstruction business was a gold mine—expected to bring hundreds of billions, possibly even trillions of dollars in economic impact.

Even I knew that asking for half was absurd.

But negotiation always starts with nerve. You must assume your offer will be adjusted later.

That’s why you always begin with something impossible.

“All right then. How much of a share are you willing to recognize?”

“Hmm...”

Powell hesitated. Rice seized the moment.

“Are you even confident you can persuade Putin? Making demands like this before doing that is ridiculous.”

She wasn’t wrong—but convincing Putin was something I’d already done long ago. Instead of saying that, I smiled faintly and nodded.

“If I can’t persuade him, I get nothing. But the more I get out of this deal, the higher the chance Russia abstains. Keep that in mind.”

“You’re very confident. Even if you’re close, this won’t be easy. Convince Putin first, then tell us what you want! Iraq’s reconstruction business is absolutely off the table!”

Once I leave this embassy, I should have her background checked first.

I shrugged at the woman who kept throwing objections.

“Then I suppose there’s no reason to persuade Putin. Shall we end this here?”

“......”

Rice bit her lip hard, glaring daggers at me.

But the one holding all the cards was me.

There was no way they hadn’t tried diplomatic channels with Putin already—and been coldly rejected.

Which meant I was their last resort.

“Secretary Powell, what will you do?”

“I’ll think about it.”

Powell frowned deeply, lost in thought, while I leaned back comfortably and did my own calculations.

‘At least 10%, maybe up to 20%. That’s the most they could concede.’

That was the upper limit even for Bush himself.

The Bush administration had two main anxieties to resolve after taking office:

First, suppressing terrorist retaliation and wiping out terror groups; second, reviving the economy after the Nasdaq crash, 9/11, and a string of accounting scandals.

The Afghan War had been to address the first problem. The Iraq War was to fix the second.

After long thought, Powell finally spoke.

“I can’t give you an answer right now. But I can promise this: we’ll help companies associated with you in bidding for Iraq’s reconstruction contracts.”

An empty statement—little more than a blank check. I shook my head.

“Come on. Do you really think fair bidding is possible? Do you think anyone can compete fairly against American corporations?”

“......We’ve made plenty of concessions already. If you keep this up, the negotiation can’t proceed.”

“Concessions? Powell, I’m a businessman. I need a definite answer. Not ‘We’ll try our best,’ but an exact figure—how much can you give up?”

“Ha... Are you truly confident you can persuade Putin? If I report to the President and you fail, that won’t end well for you either.”

Powell’s tone had hardened—almost a final warning.

I smiled.

“As long as what Russia gets is certain, I’m confident.”

“And what is it that Russia wants?”

“I’ll tell you once you give me a definite answer.”

“And if you fail?”

“Then I’ll acquire Enron unconditionally, without any terms. That’s a generous compromise, isn’t it?”

It was my final move. Surprise flickered across Powell’s face.

“Are you serious?”

“I make my living on trust. Once an investor loses trust, no one will ever do business with him again.”

“......That acquisition would cost a fortune.”

“As long as you give Russia what it wants, I’ll make it happen.”

Even though I said “no conditions,” the U.S. government would never dump all that debt on me outright. Otherwise, bankruptcy would be better than selling it to me.

Washington wanted Enron revived, not buried.

“Wait here. I’ll call the President.”

“Of course.”

As Powell stood, Rice’s face twisted in disbelief.

“Mr. Secretary!”

“Rice, this matter won’t be brushed aside. Whether Bush knew or not, ignoring me like that won’t stand.”

With that cold remark, Powell left with the ambassador.

Now only Rice and I were left in the reception room. Her expression was as frigid as Siberia.

I smiled. This might leave a scar on her career.

“Charlie.”

Her voice was sharp and cold.

“Yes, Ms. Rice?”

“Why are you going this far?”

“What do you mean?”

“This could’ve gone smoothly. We could’ve reached a moderate agreement. But asking for something we can’t possibly accept—it’s like you never intended to negotiate.”

She wasn’t wrong. We could have settled peacefully. But their tricks had wiped away any goodwill I had left.

From that sudden, unscheduled invitation to the banquet onward, everything had irritated me.

If this weren’t aligned with my own plans, I’d have walked out long ago.

I let the smile drop from my face.

“Advisor Rice, you must think I’m easy. Do I look like someone who folds the moment you apply pressure?”

“What?”

“If your side hadn’t provoked me first, I wouldn’t be doing this. I had no intention of turning this ugly. But you drew first blood.”

“I told you, I didn’t know anything about that!”

Still lying, I see. I sneered.

“Fine, let’s say you didn’t know. But just because you didn’t know doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.”

Jessica, whom I’d met yesterday, likely knew nothing about this.

If she had, she would’ve felt something was off during our meeting.

That meant she’d either met me without reporting upward—or been used unknowingly.

“I only want fair compensation. I have no intention of being some puppet doing whatever you tell me.”

“......”

“James Han and I gave full support to Bush’s campaign. And what did we get? Tax investigations into our U.S. companies, wiretaps, surveillance...”

Rice interrupted, flustered.

“That’s only natural! We can’t just ignore someone like you—”

I fixed her with a cold stare. She froze mid-sentence.

“Don’t interrupt me again, Rice. There won’t be a second warning. I understand—you’re watching me. I know that. But don’t ever think of using that as leverage to threaten me. Do that, and I might become your ally instead. You’ll need allies if you want to rise higher.”

I glanced deliberately at the door Powell had exited through.

“Powell was the first Black Secretary of State. There’s no law saying you can’t be the first Black woman to take that post. Who knows? I might even help you get there...”

I trailed off intentionally. Her eyes widened, pupils trembling.

Now she would have to decide—oppose me or accept me.

“Of course, it’s your choice. Stay at odds with me, or maintain a friendly relationship and receive my support.”

Anyone with half a brain would know which to choose. As I smiled gently, greed flickered in her eyes.

People who show their greed this quickly are always the easiest to use.

Just then, the door opened and Powell returned.

“Ahem.”

Perhaps to break the tension lingering in the air, Powell cleared his throat as he walked back.

Sitting down, he finally spoke slowly.

“I’ve spoken with the President. Half of the reconstruction project is impossible. But here’s what we can promise: excluding the allied nations—America, Britain, and those who bled with us—you’ll receive first bidding priority for all remaining contracts. This must stay strictly ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) confidential.”

A far more generous offer than I’d expected. Rice turned toward him in surprise.

“Then, Charlie, it’s your turn to show your hand.”

A performance, is it? I nodded and stood up.

“I’ll just make a quick call.”

I stepped out of the room, made a short call to Putin, and returned.

“How did it go?”

I only smiled without replying.

Then the phone on the ambassador’s desk rang loudly.

Ambassador Thomas hurried to pull the cord, but I spoke first.

“Answer it. It’ll be Putin.”

Powell’s face stiffened as he picked up the receiver.

— This is Putin. Secretary Powell, is that you?