America: Starting with Daily Intelligence

Chapter 327 I'd rather give to foreign lands than to my own slaves

The leader immediately asked them if they had been here before.

In response to Zhang Ailun's question, Madison replied with a smile, "Last time I came here with a famous Hollywood investor for their wrap-up party. We even went to the casino downstairs, but that guy was obviously unlucky; he lost terribly. I won a little, but if I had to go to a casino again, I definitely wouldn't!"

"There's still some time before the banquet party starts, so we can wander around. After all, this is a gathering for celebrities from all walks of life to discuss business," someone nearby said.

Upon seeing familiar faces appear again, he greeted them and walked over.

There were also many waiters in formal attire walking around the lobby. After Zhang Ailun and Madison walked around, they saw many familiar faces, and even a group of business tycoons who were at odds with Madison's camp. They were chatting and laughing there, but when they saw Madison and his group arrive, they immediately stopped laughing.

They could only turn around and leave the scene hastily, after all, the Prian incident had caused them considerable losses, and they were too ashamed to meet their competitors.

Zhang Ailun also noticed several black people at the scene, dressed in suits and ties, adorned with gold and silver, who arrived at the venue led by a greeter, then took their seats and chatted and laughed with the people next to them.

"They're royal tycoons from the Central African Republic. Don't you have some connections with them?" Madison asked with interest.

"It was just a small matter that saved face for them. He donated a sum of money to my foundation, along with the ivory and lion pelt," Zhang Ailun said. "If you're interested, you can go and talk to them; maybe you'll find something to talk about."

"I don't think I have anything in common with the Central African royal family," Madison shrugged. "But I heard that fighting has started again there, with many rebel groups emerging. Aren't you in the arms business? Maybe you can get an order from them. Look, some military personnel have already tried to contact them."

Zhang Ailun glanced over and saw that there were indeed military officials talking to the group of Black royals. They were chatting and laughing, but when the topic turned to business, the other party immediately became serious and shrewd, and began to haggle with the military personnel.

Those people probably weren't Colonel Wood's men either; he was out on a mission and didn't have time to attend the birthday party.

A little while later, Zhang Ailun saw the military personnel get up and leave, seemingly having failed to reach an agreement. This made the Grand Master feel that an opportunity had arrived.

However, before he could get up and greet the other party, Prince Simba arrived with a tall and slender socialite. Thus, the Grand Master had to temporarily put aside his thoughts and take the initiative to greet the other party.

Simba greeted them, "Hello, Madison, Hamburg, welcome to my mother's birthday party. This is my girlfriend, Grace, she's a Victoria's Secret supermodel."

Listen to this, such an official, colloquial introduction.

Zhang Ailun and Madison nodded in greeting and shook hands.

"Honey, go and spend time with your girlfriends. I need to talk to my friend." After a few words, Simba saw his girlfriend off.

After the socialite left, Madison bluntly asked, "Your Highness, when are you planning to change your girlfriend this time?"

"I'm really serious this time!" Simba said.

"Of course, I believe you. After all, you're always very serious, and that's what you always say." Madison nodded noncommittally.

Simba felt helpless seeing that his mother didn't trust him. "My mother has repeatedly emphasized that I should be careful about my private life. She's even planning for me to marry a cousin. She has a nice personality and looks, but I don't really like her."

"I sympathize with you. A man should marry the person he loves. However, royal marriages are quite normal, after all, you are one of the crown princes and may succeed the family throne in the future."

Madison chuckled and said, "I didn't see you earlier. Were you playing games at the casino downstairs?"

"The Venetian owner gave me a few large chips, but I lost them all in no time."

Prince Simba shrugged. "My father, brother, and sister are all here, so I can't be too presumptuous. This isn't my territory, otherwise I would definitely take you all on a good tour today."

"That's a real pity. The Princess and the Prince should still be greeting the VIPs. Please give our regards to the Princess and the Prince." Madison glanced around; the person hadn't come out yet, so it seemed there wouldn't be much of a chance to greet the Prince and the Princess.

The other princes and princesses also have their own circles of friends, and they are not very familiar with each other.

"I will," Simba nodded.

The group chatted for a while longer, and then someone came over to greet him. Simba responded politely. As members of the royal family came over to talk to him and said they needed to speak with him, he greeted the leader and then turned and left.

"Do you think Prince Simba is capable of inheriting the throne?" Zhang Ailun asked.

Madison shrugged. "How would I know? But logically speaking, the prince's eldest son should have a better chance, since he received more family training and is in charge of the family business. Simba is also a prince, but he only likes to travel and have fun. If it were me, I wouldn't choose my youngest son to inherit my assets."

Zhang Ailun nodded, agreeing with what he said. However, even if the young prince couldn't inherit the family business, he wouldn't be short of money for the rest of his life, since the family's oil reserves were practically inexhaustible.

The difference between people can sometimes be greater than that between dogs.

Soon the birthday party officially began, and the Grand Master and Madison were seated.

The Venetian's owner and the mayor of Las Vegas, along with members of the royal family, delivered speeches of gratitude, welcoming all guests to the birthday banquet, and then warmly welcoming the princess and prince to their entrance.

Prince Simba and the other princes and princesses were also present, following closely behind the Prince and Princess.

The crowd began to applaud in welcome.

The Grand Master was also seeing a Saudi prince for the first time, and he applauded enthusiastically. He truly lived up to his reputation as the richest man in the world.

The prince took the microphone and gave a speech, welcoming all the guests to the princess's birthday party and expressing his heartfelt gratitude, blah blah blah.

The closest people to him were the owner of the Venetian and the mayor of Las Vegas.

Seated in the adjacent seats were members of parliament and government officials from various departments. The others, arranged in order, were all prominent figures from Fortune 500 companies and people who frequently appeared in the media.

Many media reporters followed them in with cameras, and when it was the turn of the head of the organization's table, Madison smiled and nodded at the camera.

The leader of the sect seemed quite ordinary and unassuming. He ignored the media reporters' attempts to take pictures and record videos, focusing on eating fruit and carefully peeling oranges. After all, whether he showed his face or not was none of his business. What he cared more about was when the meal would be served.

He hasn't had dinner since this afternoon, and he's starving.

The media cameras quickly panned past him before resuming filming the prince. After the prince finished his remarks, he began toasting and greeting various dignitaries, and the waiters started serving the food.

Madison didn't care about this and took every opportunity to chat with the people next to him, while the leader stayed behind to enjoy the delicious food.

The banquet lasted for about half an hour. After they had filled their stomachs, the Grand Master finally had the opportunity to go over and greet the royal family of the Central African Republic.

The Central African royal family members seemed somewhat surprised by the arrival of their leader, as they didn't recall having any connection with the Chinese business owners here. It wasn't until Zhang Ailun introduced himself that they remembered.

"Are you the one who helped us catch a group of philanthropists who were impersonating royalty and scamming people all over the world?"

The Central African royal family members nodded and smiled, acknowledging the identity of the Grand Master.

"That's right. But I'm not just involved in ordinary charity work; I'm also an arms dealer," Zhang Ailun said.

"So, you also want to sell us weapons and ammunition? Can you offer a better price than the military region, or can you provide more manpower?"

A wealthy member of the Central African royal family inquired, "The military previously offered to help us, but their demands were excessive. They even proposed sending a peacekeeping force to be stationed in the mining area to train our soldiers. They're not unaware that we recently discovered rare diamonds in a new mine, and that there are numerous rebel groups causing trouble. Their intention isn't to help us train soldiers, but rather to seize the mining area!"

"I can't be more professional than the military, nor can I help you train more soldiers, because I think the conflict between the government and the resistance is your own private matter, and no one else has the right to interfere. I can only help you provide some equipment and sell you some weapons and firepower at a more favorable price," Zhang Ailun said with a smile.

"We don't need any superior equipment; those things require maintenance and aren't very effective. What we need are weapons that are both easy to use and don't require long-term maintenance," the Central African royal family said.

Another Black man said, "There's no need to give soldiers the best equipment. A set of gear that can be used by three people is the best."

"..." Zhang Ailun felt a little numb.

How can one set of equipment be used by three people? Is it through inheritance?

No wonder the military personnel left in a huff. They felt that the business was completely unworkable, that they couldn't reach an agreement, and that even if they did it, they wouldn't make any money. The cost of delivering the goods from so far away wouldn't even cover the fuel costs.

Their primary goal was to sell you firearms and ammunition, earn money from maintenance fees, and protect the lives of soldiers.

It turns out you don't care about your soldiers' lives at all; you're more concerned about how long the equipment can last. A single shot can be passed down through three generations; the man may be dead, but the gun remains.

If someone dies, can't we just replace them with another one?

The equipment is so expensive.

"So you might prefer military vehicles or machine guns?" Zhang Ailun said.

"Does the military vehicle need repairing if it breaks down?" the tycoon asked.

"The military vehicle broke down, so of course it needs to be repaired," Zhang Ailun said.

"Then we don't want it." The wealthy royal family member from the Central African Republic shook his head.

"..."

Zhang Ailun found their thinking strange. "You can freely donate a million dollars to charity. You probably don't care about this little bit of military spending, right?"

"Although we are very rich, this money is not spent on ourselves, and it does not bring us much fame or great profits. The loyalty of the soldiers cannot be guaranteed at all, and we have to replace a batch of them every once in a while. We need equipment that is simple, practical, sturdy, durable, and can be used without technical support," the tycoon said.

"Then we only have AKs. They're sturdy and durable," Zhang Ailun said. "I don't think you need to keep soldiers anymore; hiring mercenaries would be better."

"We do hire some soldiers to work for us, to protect the mines, and they also provide themselves with combat equipment," the tycoon said. "Compared to these mercenaries who are more cost-effective, more capable, and more professional, our soldiers are expensive, incompetent, and lack loyalty, and are completely unworthy of our investment."

"..."

So that's what happened.

They hire mercenaries because they have no other choice. Your equipment and environment are terrible. What can you do if they die there while working their lives away without their own equipment?

The leader was a bit flustered. He had been thinking about whether he could sell them Black Hawk helicopters and fighter jets, but now it seemed that they didn't understand or want to play with helicopters, let alone fighter jets.

As long as I refuse to buy high-tech weapons, then fighting on this barren land of Central Africa will forever consist of only AK-47s and dilapidated military pickup trucks.

So you're just giving up, huh?

Knowing the true nature of its superiors, it maintained a closed-door policy and prohibited the circulation of large-caliber firepower weapons to its tribes even after the arms embargo was lifted.

If these wealthy tycoons were truly willing to buy equipment, the military would already have fighter jets. The Rafale and F-16 might be too advanced for them, but they could easily procure more outdated jet aircraft and tanks. Arms dealers would be lining up to smuggle them in.

The key point is that they don't want to play with you.

As long as the Ak in your hand can protect your mineral resources and suppress unruly people, it will never be outdated.

Why bother with Black Hawk? It's all crooked and evil!

Why bother with tanks? It's all just fancy tricks and gimmicks!

Why bother with third-generation fighter jets! Fourth-generation fighter jets! Fifth-generation fighter jets!

I'm not playing!!

The leader changed his approach and said, "I have some shoe polish, gun polish, military supplies, helmets, scopes, compressed biscuits, and canned food here. I wonder if you would be willing to buy them? I can sell them to you at a price lower than the market price."

"We can consider that. This is Amrésa Robwazi Albin Frolloa. He is the head of our weapons procurement department. You can discuss cooperation with him."

The wealthy member of the Central African royal family nodded in satisfaction and introduced the black man next to him to the head of the organization.

What are you babbling about? Your name is so long.

Can cookies kill royalty? No.

Can giving the biscuits to mercenaries suppress those rebellious civilians? Yes.

OK, OK, I'll take this one.

The Grand Master wondered how much they paid those international mercenaries a day? Why were they working so hard?

If you don't understand, ask. After the royal tycoons got up and left, Zhang Ailun also asked the black man in charge of the bidding department, whose name was very long and which even the head of the guild couldn't remember.

The supervisor said, "We pay them $26 an hour."

Damn, the wages are so low? Is this some kind of illegal brick kiln?

impossible?

Even the head of the headquarters was shocked.

"But we also allow them to take away a limited number of small diamonds each month, but there are size standards."

Oh, that's all...

Isn't this a case of "preferring to give to foreign powers than to domestic slaves"?

They didn't treat Black people at all as human beings; they treated them like cattle and horses used for mining.

I know!

No wonder those mercenaries are working so hard, bringing their own rations and equipment. Aren't they just exploiting non-mining black guys?

Zhang Ailun couldn't help but sigh, "They're the rich, but what can you do when they own a mine?"