Sure enough, Kunta then slowly said, "He later became the lunch of my pet lion... because he betrayed me."
I sighed; I understood what he meant.
"Would you betray me?" Kunta asked me directly.
I chuckled, picked up a napkin to wipe my mouth, and gently tossed it aside. "General Kunta," I said, "we Chinese value our promises above all else! We have a saying, 'A promise is worth a thousand pieces of gold!'" I explained the meaning to him, and Kunta thought for a moment. "A thousand pieces of gold? A thousand ounces of gold? No, no, no... my friend, as long as you cooperate with me properly, you will receive far more than a thousand ounces of gold!"
“I believe that, which is why I came here.” I smiled.
Part Three: The Pinnacle, Chapter Thirty-One: Wealth
I understand what Kunta means... Compared to the sale of technology to Country G, Kunta seems more concerned with his personal wealth, and seems to value me, the guy who helped him launder money, more. And he, an oligarch and warlord who came to power in a coup in a small African country, frankly, doesn't have any particularly impressive skills.
In this place, the most effective methods are simple threats and bloody brutality. And these are probably the only two things he's good at. So, without thinking, he resorted to threats against me... simple and foolish.
"I need to know how you'll handle every penny that goes into your pocket." Kunta stared at me coldly, and at that moment, I felt he was just like a miser.
“It’s like this.” I was prepared. “I’m sure you’ve already seen my information. I own a trading company in Vancouver, and… I also have a film company in the United States. The film this company recently produced grossed seven hundred million dollars! These companies all require investment… What I can do for you is that every penny that flows into my pocket can be invested, and then that money will become investment returns—it’ll be clean! Finally, it will obediently lie in your bank account in Switzerland, waiting for you to withdraw and use it at any time.” I smiled slightly. “It’s that simple, isn’t it?”
"Investing in movies?" Kunta grinned, somewhat bewildered. "That's a new topic... Hmm, my old investment advisor always talked to me about stocks and securities. I think he was definitely ripping me off—no, he was definitely ripping me off, those damn Americans!"
He then stared at me: "Mr. Chen. You are my VIP, and I will treat my guests well. But if you betray me in the future... even if you live in Canada, I will still cut off your head... do you understand?"
A typical African warlord. The soil and environment here limited him; his only skills were bloodshed and brutality. Because on this land, these two things were the most effective. But his attempt to use them to intimidate me was somewhat misguided.
I had already formed my opinion of him, and calmly said, "General Kunta, think about it carefully. Do you think I and the forces behind me care about your private property? I can even say something very frank... I hope you don't mind."
"What?"
I deliberately added a touch of arrogance, saying, "If it weren't for that soon-to-be-established airline and the technology that needs to be transferred... General Kunta, the annual profits from your diamond mine are nothing to me. So, your suspicion that I would seize your assets is simply a baseless guess."
A hint of displeasure flashed in Kunta's eyes. But then he seemed to understand what I meant and finally smiled, "Pleasure doing business with you." He raised his glass.
"It's a pleasure to work with you," I said with a smile.
We quickly settled on a price, or rather, divided the spoils.
I invested $20 million in him to purchase 40% of the diamond mine. Of course, this $20 million will go towards the military expenses of General Kunta's elite troops. And afterwards, I will receive 40% of the diamond mine's profits annually!
Then, I have to set aside half of it for the tower every year!
I'm not worried that Kunta will embezzle my 40% annual allowance. Because he won't, since half of that money is his! In other words, whatever he gives me, I'll secretly give him half behind his back. If he gives me less, I'll give him less behind his back too—it's agreed upon that it's half! The more he gives me, the more he can take behind his back.
Otherwise, I wouldn't be in the mood to send a few brothers to stay in this desolate mine in Africa to help me check the accounts every day.
Taking advantage of the pleasant conversation, I cautiously made a small request: "I hope you can slightly improve the treatment of these miners."
"What?" Kunta's eyes widened immediately. "Does that mean you support the Dekakarara tribe? Then you will be an enemy of our Tutu tribe!"
“Relax! Relax, my general!” I laughed. “Of course I’m your friend. Good heavens… what do I have to do with those Dekakara? I’ve never even seen them before.”
Then I patiently explained, “These miners are here to mine for you! They are our property. It might be fun to mistreat them, kill them… but every miner we lose means one less laborer to mine for us…”
I tried to persuade him this way, but Kunta wouldn't listen: "Anyway, there are many other races in our territory! There are a lot of those damned guys. If all the Dekakaran people die, I can capture people from other races. There are plenty of them, so I'm not afraid they'll all die."
I sighed, thought for a moment, and realized that it would be useless to talk about economic principles with this guy, so I changed my approach: "General Kunta, you are the head of state of country G, the ruler here, right?"
"Yes!"
"Everything here belongs to you—the land, the mountains, the jungles, the people, the army, the towns, every blade of grass. It all belongs to you, right?"
“Of course!” A gleam shone in Kunta’s eyes.
“Alright, let’s talk about these filthy slaves… I absolutely agree with you, these filthy Dekakara deserve to die, they should be slaves… their lives are worthless.”
“Yes! Worthless!” Kunta shouted. “A grown man is worth at most two coins… no, at most one coin! I can support a slave for just one coin!”
I knew one yuan was definitely an exaggeration, but I went along with him anyway.
“Yes, their worthless lives are only worth one dollar… but General Kunta,” I reminded him, “even if it’s only one dollar, it’s still your money! Isn’t it? This land is yours, this country is yours. So, these lowly slaves are yours too! Even if their lives are only worth one dollar each, that one dollar is still yours! Right?”
“…Um…yes.” He was a little confused by what I said.
“Alright… then let’s look at it again.” I laughed, “Even if a lowly slave is worth a dollar, it’s still money… We have a Chinese saying, ‘Even a mosquito’s leg is small, it’s still meat!’ That’s a simple principle, right? In other words, if this slave is alive, his life belongs to you, General, and you’ll have an extra dollar in your pocket! If he’s dead… then he’s not worth a single penny! That’s zero! Nothing at all! In other words…”
General Kunta was completely bewildered by my explanation, and he couldn't help but interject, "So, for every slave I kill, a dollar slips out of my pocket! Is that right?"
“Yes.” I sighed. “Although the price of a slave is very low, if a few die today, a few more tomorrow, and a few more the day after… in the end, your wealth will keep slipping away! And these slaves aren’t cows, sheep, or horses… cows, horses, and sheep can be born in a year and then used in a year or two… but what about humans? Even if these lowly Dekakarara creatures keep giving birth… it still takes more than ten years for a child to grow into an adult slave, right? Every time you kill one, you lose a little more wealth!”
Suddenly, Kunta's expression changed. This warlord stared at me for a long time, his expression shifting repeatedly, but he remained silent, his eyes seemingly weighing his options deeply...
Finally, he slammed his hand on the table!
*Smack!*
My heart skipped a beat... Had I angered him?
Soon, the restaurant door was pushed open, and several black soldiers rushed in, carrying submachine guns. Without hesitation, they pointed several guns at my head at the same time.
To be honest, my heart almost stopped... because I knew very well that this guy in front of me was different from anyone I had ever met before! Even when facing the Gambino family, I knew they wouldn't dare kill me casually. But this warlord was different! Human life was nothing to him, and to him, I was just an outsider. He could kill me without a second thought; he didn't care about my background!
"Idiots, what are you doing? You've scared my honored guest!" Kunta laughed, licking his lips with his scarlet tongue. Only then did the soldiers next to me put down their submachine guns.
"Sorry, I startled you. My men didn't figure out what was going on," Kunta said calmly, then called out, "Kuan!!"
A burly man, as imposing as a leopard, stepped forward, chest puffed out. He appeared to be one of General Kunta's leaders.
“Starting tomorrow, each of the miners outside will get an extra plate of beans every day… um, and a small half-piece of bread.” Kunta thought for a moment, then grinned maliciously. “Also, starting tomorrow, no more shooting miners indiscriminately. Lazy and cunning ones can be disciplined, but no killing or crippling them. This is my order, to be carried out first thing tomorrow morning.”
I kept a straight face and deliberately said in a casual tone, "General, this is a very wise move!"
Sigh, this is all I can do for those poor souls outside. Although I am a villain, I was born into a civilized society, and I still cannot accept this kind of utter slavery.
I'll do what I can; this is all I can do.
Part Three: The Peak, Chapter Thirty-Two: Extortion
After dinner, Kunta made me a very strange invitation.
Take a shower together?
Then I understood what he meant.
Behind his palace, which is designed to resemble the White House, he actually built a luxurious bathroom!
I thought about it and realized I needed to build a relationship with him, so I didn't refuse.
We arrived at the back bathroom together, protected by several of his bodyguards. I could tell that these bodyguards were definitely highly skilled!
First and foremost, the innate superior physical attributes of Black people were undeniable in these men; they possessed powerful muscles and agile physiques. This was something that bodybuilders, whose muscles had become stiff from overtraining, could never match! These bodyguards, with their gleaming black muscles, were incredibly toned and elastic! They were as sharp and alert as leopards, their eyes gleaming with keen intelligence!
We took off our outer clothes in a room outside the bathroom, in a room with fur carpeting the floor. I noticed that Kunta was looking at me slightly strangely at that moment…
This guy wouldn't like that kind of thing, would he?
The thought made me laugh at myself. Then I realized he was looking at my scars. I had all sorts of knife wounds, gunshot wounds, cuts, and even penetrating wounds... If it weren't for the fact that I had practiced martial arts since I was a child, and that my senior brother had used the sect's secret techniques to heal me, someone like me covered in scars would have been physically ruined long ago.
After taking off his clothes, when Kunta looked at me, he seemed lost in thought. Then he seemed to nod, and his gaze towards me held a hint of respect.
He was a soldier. He was once a warrior. Only those who have truly experienced the test of death can understand that the scars on a man's body are, in fact, another form of medal.
“You’re different from my previous investment advisor.” He pursed his lips and said this very abruptly: “He was all delicate and tender… while you are a warrior.”
His eyes noticed my hand.
I practice martial arts, including swords, daggers, and firearms. Naturally, my palms have many calluses, and some of the joints of my fingers are larger than average, which are almost obvious signs to experienced people.
"These hands... how many people have they killed?" he asked me, seemingly with great interest.
"There are definitely not as many as there are generals," I replied casually.
We walked into the bathroom naked. To my surprise, he seemed to trust me a lot, and even skipped the bodyguards. It was just the two of us who went into the bathroom.
Isn't he afraid I'll assassinate him at a time like this?
But the thought flashed through my mind. This guy, despite his bandit-like demeanor, wasn't a fool. He must have verified my identity before I arrived. And… why would I kill him? What a joke… if I killed him, all the men I brought would die here; no one would escape.
Stepping into the bathroom... I was truly stunned!
Good heavens!! This is...this is Africa! One of the most water-scarce regions in the world!!
This bathroom in front of me is so luxurious it's almost cursed! I think even the comforts of Arab royalty couldn't compare...
A huge, circular bathtub, three times larger than my swimming pool at home, was rimmed with the finest white marble. In the center was a fountain, and in the center, a sculpture of a nude Greek goddess. Judging from its design, this Greek goddess sculpture was entirely based on human biomimicry; a person could comfortably lie in "her" lap, their head resting on "her" breasts. Below, several jets of water gently washed over the body…
There were three round yellow handles around the bathtub... I recognized them at a glance... These handles were all pure gold! Absolutely pure gold! Behind the handles were three lion head sculptures. As soon as you pulled the handle, water jets would spray out of the lions' mouths, and people could lie down and enjoy the water's cleansing effect.
The bathtub was already full of hot water, and the whole bathroom was filled with steam. Kunta and I went in and lay down in the water. He then smiled and said, "How is it? Do you like this place of mine?"
“Very good…very good.” I sighed. “It’s simply too extravagant.”
“I have three palaces like these in the whole country!” He seemed a little proud: “Even the President of the United States only has one White House, but I have three.”
I sighed, saying nothing but inwardly disapproving. Anyone with common sense knows that this guy's extravagant lifestyle, much like that of ancient Chinese emperors, is a recipe for disaster—the more extravagant they are, the faster they fall from grace.
Seeing my silence, Kunta suddenly said, "I brought that American guy in here before too."
I understand that the "Meigu Lao" he was referring to was the former investment advisor who was later fed to the lions by him.
Hmph, this guy still can't resist threatening me. I kept a calm expression on my face: "Oh, too bad, he's not a smart man, he betrayed you."
“No, I should say Americans are all annoying.” Kunta shook his head. Then the warlord looked at me: “Now you are my friend. I, Kunta, have always been very generous to my friends! So as your friend, you can make many requests of me, and I will generously fulfill them. But if anyone betrays me…”
"Then let's send him to feed the lions," I said with a smile.
After being soaked in water, this guy looked even more bloated. Think about it, this guy was once a young and promising general, a soldier by training. Looking at his photos from his youth, he was quite imposing and valiant. But now, this guy has become corrupt and degenerate into a bloated and brutal fat man.
“I’m very interested in your film company,” Kunta suddenly said. “If I give you all my money every year to manage, how much can I earn each year? I’ve heard you say that movies are very profitable.”
"Greedy fellow..." I sighed inwardly, but smiled slightly and said, "General Kunta, what do you think you would expect in return if you handed over your profits to me to manage every year?"
“We’ve already discussed this,” Kunta muttered. “You own 40% of the diamond mine. Then you give me half of the profits every year, that’s 20 million! But my question is, if I hand over those 20 million to you to manage, shouldn’t that money appreciate in value?”
asshole!
This is outrageous! You have to understand, 40% of the diamond mine's profits, if in Kunta's hands, would only be worth six million US dollars! And even if he gets half, it's only three million!! If he sells the diamonds to those diamond smugglers, they're only worth that much! I promised him twenty million a year, that's already a sevenfold increase! It's already appreciated a lot… and he still wants more?
But this guy is clearly asking for an exorbitant price, and in this situation, we need his help. Even if he's trying to blackmail us, I can only deal with it cautiously.
I could see that too; this guy didn't seem to care about his army or his country's profits. He was only concerned with his personal overseas assets—perhaps he was also aware that his days were numbered and that he would eventually fall and go into exile.