When the Saint comes, she does not collect food

Chapter 732 It is my duty, Your Majesty!
Looking at the two people who suddenly knelt down, Horn was a little at a loss.

"The Holy League has abolished the kneeling ceremony, didn't you know?" Horn quickly signaled to the privy monks on both sides to help the two men up.

"My feet are slippery, my feet are slippery." Old Eddie hurriedly explained, but when he looked at the carpet on the floor, he stopped talking in embarrassment.

Brandon just patted his knees and stood up obediently without saying anything.

"Bring some chairs for you two, and let's sit down and talk." After instructing the privy monk, Horn stood up and walked to the tea table. "Coffee or tea?"

"Black tea will be fine." Thinking about the sudden kneeling just now, Old Eddie's face turned red. He quickly coughed lightly and sat up straight, pretending to be serious.

Brandon, who used to be rude, stood aside obediently, with his head down and said nothing.

No matter how much they boasted in the cafe before, when they actually saw that ordinary black-haired young man, Old Eddie and Brandon still felt weak in the face.

While Horn was pouring tea for the two of them, Old Eddie and Brandon secretly looked around the office in front of them.

The office originally had no windows, but the statue of the Holy Father on the wall was knocked through and replaced with a clear crystal glass window.

In front of me was a desk carved from a single piece of oak, with stenographers in monk robes sitting on either side.

Eddie noticed three things on the table: an envelope with Cheka wax, the equity structure chart of the Magdeburg Chamber of Commerce, and the yearbook of the city hall.

"Mr. Crawford, your tea."

Standing up respectfully, Old Eddie took the cup of tea from Horn.

Sitting back at the desk, Horn cleared his throat and said, "Don't be nervous, I invited you here. This is not a banquet, but it's not a court either.

All I have to do is to rectify the current chaos in the insurance and lottery industries.”

Old Eddie and Brandon felt depressed, but Old Eddie was the first to ask cautiously, "How do you want to fix this chaos?"

"My requirements are not high. Take the insurance industry as an example. I want to promote standard insurance contracts." Horn handed over the City Hall document with a wax seal. "All insurance must be notarized by the City Hall, and the compensation reserve fund will be managed by the Saint Bank."

Old Eddie, who had been relaxing and drinking tea, suddenly became frightened: "No, no, no, Your Majesty, insurance is a private business. If you regulate it like this, the City Hall will definitely force us to pay compensation."

"You and the citizens are all the people of the Holy Father. Why can't the City Hall make a fair judgment according to the law?"

“… sometimes judges don’t understand the complexities of how business works.”

"Judges will commission other neutral businessmen as advisors, or simply hire notaries who specialize in commercial law."

"Your Majesty, the insurance industry is a very young industry. It is so young..."

"Mr. Crawford's '10 draws, 1 insurance' and 'insurance broker' model is very interesting." Seeing that Old Eddie was unwilling to give in, Horn flipped through the yearbook of the City Hall and said, "Last year, nearly forty sailors' widows and mothers came to the City Hall to complain that they could not get their compensation."

“Because they don’t meet the requirements.”

"Is it because it doesn't meet the requirements, or is it because they simply didn't sell them normal insurance policies?" Horn suddenly flipped open the account book, and between the rough burlap pages were several insurance policy stubs. "For example, in your Hainan Airlines accident insurance, the maximum compensation amount is set for death from being hit in the forehead by a sand lizard at sea.

Then it reduces the rate of compensation for other accidents, such as drowning, and thus evens out the average compensation amount, making people think that they can get a lot of money."

Sweat trickled down Old Eddie's cheeks. He smiled awkwardly and said, "It must have been done by those bastards down there!"

"For example, during the Crown Township fire in Hotham County in February this year, you suddenly and forcibly canceled the fire insurance of all houses on the edge of the fire and refunded the amount of insurance purchased."

"Uh... this is..." The stool under Old Eddie's butt seemed to be filled with magma, making him feel uneasy.

"Who has the authority to withdraw insurance on this scale? Ask him to come and talk to me." Horn still had a smile on his face, but Old Eddie was already sweating profusely.

"You know, this is a business practice of cutting losses in time..."

"Then if I declare you pardoned after I hang you, does that count as cutting the loss in time?"

"me……"

Old Eddie picked up the coffee cup with shaking hands and took a sip. This sip did not wake him up, but made him squint his eyes. Horn did not urge him, but leaned back in his chair and drank his tea calmly.

Taking a deep breath, as if he had made up his mind, Old Eddie opened his eyes and looked at Horn firmly and resolutely: "If you say so, then I absolutely support your proposal. The insurance industry is so chaotic, it should have been regulated long ago."

"It's great that you can support our work." Horn smiled and poured another cup of black tea for Old Eddie. "In fact, we are planning to promote mining accident insurance in mountainous areas. Perhaps we need professionals like you to help us?"

Old Eddie's face, which had been trying to suppress his grief, froze for a moment before he asked cautiously, "Can you convince the mountain people?"

"I'm not trying to persuade you. I'll use newspapers to promote the 'blood-stained ore' and cooperate with the Council of State to tighten peat supply and steel orders. Then the mine owners will honestly buy insurance."

Old Eddie was delighted but also looked stern. If Horn wrote an article titled "Bloody Policy" in Pravda, Old Eddie's Insurance Company would be seriously injured if not killed.

Seeing Old Eddie surrender, Horn smiled knowingly.

The old man seems to be dressed simply and doesn't care about money, but in fact he is the most greedy for money. As long as money is hit on his weak spot, he will not give in.

After dealing with Old Eddie, Horn looked at Brandon.

Seeing Horn's eyes slowly turn to him, Brandon lowered his head and curled up his body, as if trying to become invisible.

"I am willing to accept the supervision and notarization of the City Hall and deposit the lottery prize reserve into the Saint Bank." Facing Horn's smiling eyes, Brandon, with a tingling scalp, immediately expressed his position.

Horn shook his head: "Not enough. How much profit do you make from lottery? Do you think I don't know?"

"Your Majesty, I just made money. I didn't make much..."

"Starting from next quarter, 60% of the lottery profits will be allocated to the public welfare fund." Before he could finish, Horn slapped the newly printed "Education Lottery" sample ticket on the table. The ticket was printed with the township primary school under construction, and said, "The remaining 40% can be divided among yourselves."

Under the illumination of the fluorescent lamp, Brandon's baby face turned pale in an instant: "Your Majesty, I am different from old Eddie. I have always operated fairly and legally.

If someone really wins the prize, I will sell everything I have to give it to him. You are just suppressing our living space.

If you do this, I will hang myself instead of you. This business will be unbearable!"

In fact, whether out of self-interest or because it was just starting out, the Cheka did not find out much negative information about Brandon.

Even if there are citizens who starve to death from buying lottery tickets, most of them are people who try to get something for nothing. Brandon's lottery shop will not actively persuade people to buy lottery tickets.

But Horn also has a way to deal with Brandon, who is not stingy: "First of all, you have to understand that lottery is a borderline of gambling. I tolerate lottery because it is beneficial for raising funds and public welfare.

Secondly, if there is no Brandon lottery, is there no Magdeburg lottery or Rapid City lottery?
Finally, making lottery a public welfare activity is also beneficial to you.

If you can make enough contributions to public welfare and education, perhaps someone will nominate you to the Senate because of your reputation.

With your experience in related fields, perhaps you can get a position as chairman of an education committee or minister of public welfare?"

The sagging flesh on Brandon's face suddenly straightened up, as if he had suddenly aged ten years and then suddenly become ten years younger.

"Can you nominate me?"

"This is not within my scope of duties." Horn tapped the hard desktop with a hard-rubber pen. "This is the responsibility of the Sheriff and the Priest of Lower River County."

Then it is still the Saint Sun who has the final say, and Brandon immediately became alert.

If one day, the manager of a gambling house becomes a minister, who would dare to look down on him?

Compared with the precious position of minister, the profit from lottery seems not worthy of attention.

"Mr. Brandon, what do you think?"

"You know me. I have always been concerned about the education of the common people. It is my duty to provide funds for the construction of schools, Your Majesty!"

(End of this chapter)