Genius Grandson Of The Loan Shark King

The gift I intended to give him was a stake in Soul Company—the shares I had discussed with Han Kyungyeong.

Legitimate political donations could always be made under Dream High’s name.

But politics is not something that can be done with clean money alone. Sometimes, black money is necessary.

When that time came, I planned to deliver funds to Obama through shares in Soul Company.

The question was who would actually receive those shares.

“A gift?”

“Yes. I’m planning to establish a small corporation in Korea. I’ll give you shares in that company.”

“Shares of a Korean company. And you call that a gift?”

“It will be a limited liability company, structured in a way that draws very little external scrutiny. The annual dividends alone will exceed anything you’re imagining.”

“Hm.”

Barack Obama only fidgeted with the hand he was holding out, his expression uneasy, unable to accept it easily.

“You’re probably worried this could become a problem later, but there’s no need. Please, have a seat again. I’ll explain properly.”

Ending the handshake, I sat down first.

“To put it simply, the company we’re establishing is a special-purpose entity for Iraq’s reconstruction projects. It’s a company with no legal issues whatsoever, and profits are distributed entirely within the bounds of the law, so you don’t need to worry.”

“Iraq reconstruction?”

At those words, both Barack Obama’s and Michelle Obama’s eyes widened.

Looking at them like this, they do resemble each other a little.

“Yes. This is classified information. It must never be leaked outside. I’m telling you this because the two of you will be working with me going forward.”

“......They’re already talking about Iraq’s reconstruction? And the U.S. government is giving that to you?”

Michelle Obama asked, her mouth hanging open in disbelief.

Was that really so shocking? Well, it was surprising, I suppose. I shrugged and answered casually.

“There were two main reasons I came to the United States. One was to support the senator sitting here, and the other was to share in the Iraq reconstruction projects. It seems both turned out well.”

To instill trust in people who didn’t yet understand what kind of person I was, it helped to throw out crucial information.

Michelle Obama was simply stunned, but Barack Obama looked as though he had sunk into deeper thought.

Iraq’s reconstruction could become a variable in the upcoming election. With a grave expression, he asked me,

“Are you taking charge of the entire reconstruction project?”

“No. I’ll likely be responsible for housing and transportation infrastructure. The rest will probably be divided among American companies.”

“You’re telling me something this serious is being handled without the public knowing? This is invalid.”

I could understand why Michelle Obama sounded frustrated.

I pulled up one corner of my mouth and looked at him.

“Senator. Invalid? On what grounds do you claim it’s invalid? Are you already acting like the President? No. Right now, you’re just one of many senators. No matter how much you insist it’s invalid, this is an irreversible current.”

“Even so, this is something the people have the right to know. The Iraq War was a meaningless war! Because of it, countless American soldiers were wounded and killed. And now you’re already talking about reconstruction and dividing it up however you like.”

Something the people have the right to know.

Those were words worthy of a president who, after being elected, works for the people...

But right now, it wasn’t a particularly welcome reaction.

“Everyone will know eventually. But that time is not now. I clearly stated from the beginning that this was confidential. If this information leaks, then the only possible culprits are the two of you. Everyone else has already taken their share of the利益; they have no reason to invite public criticism by exposing this. With Bechtel already being criticized just for securing a few hundred million dollars in no-bid contracts, who would dare make this public?”

Despite my calm, measured words, Barack Obama only slowly shook his head.

“Charlie, no matter how you look at it, this isn’t right. And you’re telling me to take that profit? Didn’t you say earlier that I should just do the politics I believe in? And now you’re telling me to accept this kind of illegal money already......”

He didn’t seem to understand what I was saying at all. I let out a deep sigh and cut him off.

“When I said to do your own politics, I didn’t mean to keep pretending to be clean like you are now. I meant to do the politics you want to do, realistically. Fish can’t live in water that’s too pure. There’s such a thing as being too clean.”

Right now, Barack Obama was treated like a political outsider, but once he declared his presidential run, things would change.

People would gather around him, and he would inevitably have to take care of them.

But if he remained as impossibly clean as people believed him to be, no one would gather around him at all.

Or even if they did, they would eventually scatter.

That could not happen. A president cannot exist alone.

If he continued politics like that, he would never become President of the United States.

In time, he would adapt to reality and change anyway—but I wanted to make that transition easier for him. freeweɓnovel.cѳm

“And illegal money? Which part of this is illegal? I secured these contracts based on my contribution, exercising my legitimate rights in an Iraq reconstruction project led by the U.S. government.”

“Didn’t you already divide up the project rights behind closed doors? That’s......”

“And why is that illegal? In a capitalist society, isn’t it right for the most capable people to lead the projects? Or would you rather hand Iraq’s reconstruction over to the EU, or some other country?”

“You’re not an American.”

Without realizing it, my face hardened.

I thought he was smart. And yet he’d already forgotten my request and crossed the line.

“Senator. It seems you’ve forgotten my request. I asked you not to discriminate. Is that really so difficult?”

“That’s not what I meant......”

Barack Obama realized his mistake and trailed off, flustered.

Staring him straight in the eyes, I continued.

“Iraq’s reconstruction is not something the United States can carry out alone. In the end, a certain portion has to be distributed to other countries—and I secured that portion. And what I’m taking is only about 10% of the reconstruction. Even at the absolute maximum, it’s barely 20%.”

Of course, calling 20% ‘barely’ was misleading—the amount was enormous. It was a reconstruction project that would last at least ten years.

I had intervened to eliminate the very factors that would lead to the creation of IS, but even so, there were no guarantees.

If IS were to emerge, the reconstruction wouldn’t last ten years—it would become a grand project stretching over twenty.

“Now you understand it’s not illegal, don’t you. Even if you don’t, it can’t be helped. This is a gift you need anyway, so you should accept it—if you intend to become my partner. Politics requires a great deal of money. Donations can cover part of it, but politics also requires funds that leave no record.”

After hesitating, Barack Obama looked at Michelle Obama.

When she nodded, he thought for a moment longer before opening his mouth.

“......Alright. Let’s do it.”

“You made a wise choice. And I’ll warn you again—if this information ever becomes public, I will consider the two of you responsible. A relationship that shares secrets must be built on absolute trust.”

This was not a gift given out of goodwill. It was a test I was imposing on Barack Obama.

The Iraq reconstruction project was a card that could push President Bush into a corner.

“As I said earlier, I never let betrayal slide. No matter who it is, I will crush them thoroughly with the money and influence I possess. Please ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) keep that firmly in mind.”

If he failed this test, he would never become president. I would personally drag him down into the abyss.

I had revealed this information because I was confident I could bury any suspicions he raised. That made it perfect as a test.

Aside from my words, there was not a single piece of evidence of this agreement left in the world. This agreement would be maintained solely through mutual trust.

Which meant he would have to prove his good faith to me.

“Then I’ll contact you again soon. From now on, when you contact me, use this number.”

I took out a phone and handed it to him. Holding the phone, he looked at me as if asking for an explanation.

“Other than that number, I will make no contact whatsoever. If anyone approaches you using my name, be suspicious. The only person who knows about our relationship is James Han, the CEO of Dream High. If I’m unable to contact you, he will act on my behalf. Other than that, do not believe a single word from anyone.”

“Understood.”

Swallowing dryly, Barack Obama pocketed the phone I had handed him.

“And find someone to hold the shares I’m giving you. It can’t be a family member. Choose someone you can trust. When I contact you next, send me that person’s personal details.”

“By when do I need to have that ready?”

“Two to three weeks. At the latest, within a month.”

“Alright.”

After that, I organized and explained the tasks that needed to be handled going forward.

Before leaving, I reminded the still-troubled-looking Barack Obama of our agreement, my voice firm.

“It was a pleasure meeting you, Senator. I will make sure you never regret joining hands with me.”

Barack Obama and Michelle Obama drove away.

As their car disappeared from view, I let out a deep sigh without realizing it.

“Are you alright, Boss?”

“I’m fine. Dealing with politicians always drains me.”

“I’ll have the car brought around shortly. But, Boss...... may I ask you one question?”

It wasn’t often that Manager Ma asked questions first. I looked at him, puzzled.

“I know—and believe—that your choices are never wrong. But can that man really become president? He has too many weaknesses. Not just race, but many other things. From my years as a mercenary, I’ve learned one thing: white people look down on black people. It’s ingrained in their blood, like instinct. A black president in America...... it’s hard to believe.”

Given that Manager Ma had lived overseas for so long, it was understandable that he thought that way.

“Maybe. But America is a country where nothing is impossible. Being black might actually become a weapon. America doesn’t just have white and black people—there are many other races as well. If he can gather all of their votes? And add to that the votes of people who vote Democrat without thinking? At that point, would being black still be a weakness?”

I lightly patted Manager Ma’s shoulder as he sank into deep thought.

“Just watch. Watch me create the first black president of the United States with my own hands. And for that to happen, I’ll need a lot of help from you too.”

Seeing Manager Ma nod instinctively, I let out a small laugh.

After finishing all my business in the United States, I arrived in Russia.

After meeting directly with the advisory team that would be entering North Korea, I planned to put them on a train and send them across the border.

Upon arriving in Russia, I spent a long time in discussion with the advisors.

When it came to how North Korea’s currency reform should be carried out, every single member of the advisory team reached the same conclusion.

My own thoughts were no different.

Given North Korea’s instability, the exchange rate had to be fixed unconditionally to the dollar.

Everyone agreed on reinforcing a peg system, though approaches differed depending on each person’s specialty.

The discussion showed no sign of ending, and after talking through the night, a single consensus was finally reached.

“Remember just one thing. No matter how the currency reform is carried out, it must never follow the methods used by African or other dictatorial regimes. Excluding that, you may help design a reform suited to North Korea’s circumstances. And this work must be kept under absolute secrecy. Once you enter North Korea, you likely won’t be able to leave until the reform is complete. Even after entering, you will not meet anyone except Jang Songthaek.”

It seemed Han Kyungyeong had already explained everything to the economists on the advisory team, as no one raised serious objections.

“If you succeed in North Korea’s currency reform, I’ll pay you double the compensation James Han promised—as a bonus.”

After concluding the meeting, I handed the advisory team over to the person coming from North Korea to escort them.

Once I confirmed that the train carrying them had departed, I said to Manager Ma,

“Let’s head back as well. To Seoul.”