I searched and fought in America.

Rosen looked at her, a disdainful smirk playing on his lips.

"You can try it, environmental inspection, fire inspection, come on over."

Iron Claw Recycling has been operating for over a decade; if it were that easy to shut down, it would have ceased to exist long ago.

He paused, took half a step forward, and looked down at Emily:

"And Ms. Emily, are you sure you want to make a big deal out of this?"

Don't forget, I'm involved in organized crime. If pushed too far, people can die.

As he spoke, Rosen's tone turned somewhat cold, and Emily was so startled that she instinctively took a step back.

Rosen continued:

"You threatened me because I didn't help you, and now that threats aren't working, you're trying other methods."

He smiled:

"But there's one thing I don't understand. As a municipal government official, don't you even understand the most basic things about cooperation?"

What makes you think I'll be afraid of your threats? What makes you think I'll definitely help you?

Emily was stunned.

"From the moment you walked in," Rosen pointed to the chair she had just been sitting in.

You wiped the chair with your hand to make sure there was no dust before sitting down.

The way you're looking at me is like you're looking at something dirty.

The way you talk to me is like you're ordering a dog around.

He withdrew his hand and put it in his pocket:

"You come to me for help, but you're not even willing to show me the most basic respect. Do you think I'm stupid and can't see through this?"

Emily's lips moved, but no sound came out.

"Even if I help you today," Rosen continued, "get those survivors to cooperate with your act, get the media to praise the government's wisdom—and then what?"

Will you be grateful to me? No, you'll just think, "This Chinese thug is really obedient. Next time something happens, I'll just come and 'explain' to him again."

He shook his head:

"I don't have any other good points, but I have one thing in common: I'm not a simp."

Emily's face flushed red. She opened her mouth, wanting to retort, wanting to curse—but she couldn't say anything.

Because everything Rosen said was true.

"Alright," Rosen turned around and walked towards the door. "It's getting late, you should go back now."

He opened the door, and Maurice, who was standing outside, walked in and gestured for Emily to enter.

Emily stood there, trembling.

She wanted to smash something, and wanted to give this ungrateful Chinese man a good scolding.

But in the end, she just grabbed the folder and staggered toward the door.

As she passed Rosen, she paused and glared at him fiercely.

Rosen smiled and nodded:

"Take care, and don't bother seeing me off."

Emily gritted her teeth and rushed out the door.

Rosen looked away and turned around.

"Father," Maurice approached, his brow slightly furrowed, "Won't this... cause trouble?"

Rosen glanced at him but did not answer immediately.

He went back to his study, sat down at the tea table, picked up the glass of water, and took a sip.

"Maurice," he began, "do you think that woman, from the moment she walked in, ever considered cooperating with us?"

Morris thought for a moment, then shook his head:

"No, her attitude..."

"Like charity," Rosen finished for him. "Like those rich people going to the slums to distribute relief food, looking down on people, giving it all away and then leaving, not even bothering to give the poor people a second glance."

He put the cup down:

"She came to me not out of respect, but because the survivors wouldn't listen to her."

She needs me to step in and smooth things over, but she's unwilling to pay any price for it, not even to put on a friendly face.

"Someone like that," he looked up at Maurice, "even if I helped her, would she remember me?"

Morris was silent for a few seconds, then shook his head:

"Won't."

"Yes," Rosen nodded, "she'll just take it for granted."

Next time something happens, she'll come and "instruct" me again. If I don't cooperate, she'll think I'm ungrateful, even though she's never done me any favors.

He leaned back in his chair, gazing at the night view outside the window:

"If that's the case, why should I help her?"

Morris did not speak.

"And," Rosen suddenly smiled, "you heard the threats she made, didn't you?"

Loan sharking, prostitution, drug trafficking—she doesn't even know what the Iron Claw Gang does, yet she dares to threaten me.

He shook his head:

"This kind of opponent isn't worth my time to deal with."

Morris thought for a moment and asked:

"What about... those environmental inspections?"

"Let her come." Rosen's tone was calm. "Iron Claw Recycling has been around for so many years. If it couldn't even handle something this simple, it should have closed down long ago."

Moreover, once that materials factory is built, it's only a matter of time before we clash with these environmental hyenas.

Morris nodded knowingly. Indeed, once the inherent powder is mass-produced, the environmental problems of most recycling companies will be largely solved.

But for those environmental associations, they don't want the environmental problems to be solved. If the problems are solved, what's the point of having them?

This is undoubtedly cutting off someone's source of income!

"However," Rosen looked away, "she's right, we do need to get in touch with the authorities."

Morris paused for a moment: "Then what did you just do—"

"That woman just now is no good," Rosen interrupted him. "What I need is someone I can talk to as an equal, not someone who treats me like a subordinate."

With her attitude, even if you manage to connect with her, you'll just be asking for trouble.

He stood up and walked to the window:

"Maurice, remember, we cooperate with them because it is beneficial to both sides, not because we are inferior and need their charity. That won't get us what we want."

He looked out the window at the night sky, his voice very soft:

"One day, we will make them understand this principle."

---

Emily sat in the car, her hands gripping the steering wheel tightly, her knuckles white.

She had already driven three blocks, but she still felt incredibly angry and ashamed.

That Chinese person.

The garbage in that slum.

How dare he—

She slammed her hand on the steering wheel, and the horn sounded a short, sharp blast.

Over the years, she has thrived in the municipal government thanks to the reputation of the Luo family.

Although the Rolle family has indeed declined in recent years, in Houston, who would dare not give her some face?

But today, a ragpicker gang leader actually told her to get lost.

Emily gritted her teeth, took a few deep breaths, and forced herself to calm down. Just as she calmed down a bit, her phone suddenly vibrated.

She glanced at the screen: Mayor's Secretary.

connected.

"Emily?" It was the secretary's voice on the other end. "Where are you? The mayor has called an emergency meeting. Fifteen minutes from now, in the conference room on the third floor of the police station."

Emily paused for a moment, then asked, "Now?"

"Yes, now, come over here immediately regarding tomorrow's press conference."

The phone hangs up.

Emily looked at her phone screen; it was almost midnight. She paused for two seconds, then stepped on the gas.

---

Thank you Shi Ya for the 3 monthly tickets, thank you to reader 20201120113741687 for the 2 monthly tickets, and thank you Ye Fan Wusheng for the 1 monthly ticket.

Thank you so much, everyone!

---

Funny short clips asking for monthly votes:

Hmph, it's fine if you don't vote for me. I'm used to this kind of loneliness anyway. I'm just worried that you guys are too tired from saving up your votes, so I wanted to help ease the pressure on your storage.