I searched and fought in America.

Mayor's Office.

Thomas Rolls leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping lightly on the table. The screen was still playing a replay of the press conference, in which the young Chinese man stood under the spotlight, speaking eloquently.

"Knock knock knock".

A knock came at the door.

Thomas didn't look up: "Come in."

The secretary pushed open the door and entered, holding a folder in her hand, with a complex expression on her face.

Thomas's eyes lit up when he saw him, and he sat up straight:

"How's it going? Have you found out anything about that guy's background?"

The secretary quickly walked to the desk and handed over the folder:

"Yes, Your Honor, our investigation has confirmed that this Rosen is indeed an orphan."

His parents' identities are unknown. According to available information, he was adopted by a veteran named Cade when he was three years old.

Thomas took the folder and casually flipped through it:

"Cade? That uncle? What's his background?"

"Retired from Delta Force, served twelve years, with multiple overseas deployments. After retirement, lived in the Ronnie neighborhood, making a living by doing odd jobs and recycling. No criminal record, but—"

The secretary paused.

Thomas looked up: "But what?"

"But according to police records, this person has a serious tendency toward violence and has been detained multiple times for fighting, but each time nothing came of it."

A psychological evaluation report indicated that he may be suffering from some form of post-traumatic stress disorder, but specific details have been sealed by the military and we cannot access them.

Thomas nodded, not paying much attention. It was perfectly normal for an old soldier to have some psychological issues these days.

He continued scrolling down.

Then his fingers stopped.

His brow furrowed.

"What is this?"

The secretary paused for a second, then lowered her voice:

"This person... owes a large sum of money to loan sharks."

"What?!"

Thomas's voice rose, and he abruptly looked up, staring at the secretary:

"Loan sharking? Owed to the bank?"

The secretary shook her head:

"It's not a bank, it's black gold capital."

Thomas's expression changed.

He leaned back in his chair and started tapping his fingers on the table again, but this time the rhythm was off.

Black gold capital.

He was all too familiar with that name: the largest underground bank in Texas, with a terrifyingly deep background. It was said that several powerful families were behind it, and even his own family, the Roll family, had connections there.

His fingers, which were tapping the table, stopped.

"How much do you owe?"

"Eight hundred thousand US dollars, with a principal of three hundred thousand, it was earned through compound interest."

Thomas remained silent for a few seconds.

His mind raced.

Eight hundred thousand is an astronomical sum for ordinary people, but it's just a drop in the ocean for black money capital.

But the problem is—Rosen is no longer an ordinary person.

After the press conference, he became a hero in Houston.

If the media discovers that this "hero" actually owes high-interest loans—

Thomas's temple throbbed twice.

He dared not imagine what that scene would be like.

How will the media in those blue states report this?

"The Vampire Behind the Hero" and "The Texas Dream Overshadowed by Loan Sharks"

He even came up with the titles for them.

He took a deep breath, picked up his phone, and dialed a number.

The phone rang three times before being answered.

"Mayor Green?" A fawning voice came from the other end of the phone; you could practically feel the person bowing and scraping even through the receiver. "How can I help you?"

Thomas's tone was neither warm nor cold:

"Manager Will, right? I heard that you have a customer who owes you 800,000 in high-interest loans, his name is Rosen."

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone.

Will Smith is currently lounging on his office sofa, smoking a cigar and scrolling through TikTok.

He almost fell off the sofa when he saw the caller ID.

mayor!

The mayor of Houston, Thomas Roll, called him personally!

He jumped to his feet, his face plastered with the most obsequious smile of his life, though the other person couldn't see it at all:

"Yes, yes, Your Excellency! Please wait a moment, I'll check right away!"

He rushed to the computer in a flurry, his hands trembling as he typed.

Rosen... Rosen...

A message pops up on the screen.

Will glanced at it and frowned.

Eight hundred thousand? He usually wouldn't even bother looking at loans with interest rates that high. Only loans exceeding one million are worth his personal attention.

But he dared not delay and quickly said:

"Yes, yes, Your Excellency, we've found it. What are your instructions? Just say the word, and I can waive all the high-interest loans this person is taking!"

He spoke with utmost sincerity.

He would never dare to dream of such a big shot contacting him normally, so now that the opportunity has come knocking, he's naturally going to seize it.

Thomas's voice remained indifferent:

"No need to waive it all. Here's how—transfer this user's debt to the Houston Bank, keep the principal, and pretend the interest doesn't exist."

Will nodded repeatedly:

"Yes, yes! Of course, no problem, Your Excellency! I'll take care of it right away!"

"Hmm." Thomas paused for a moment. "By the way, we're having a celebration party in three days. Why don't you come?"

Will's breath caught in his throat for a moment.

A victory celebration party?

A party personally invited by the mayor?

What level of influence must they be at? Who are the people who come? High-ranking officials? Political and business elites?

If he could go, if he could make friends with one or two people...

Will's voice even changed tone:

"Thank you, Mayor! Thank you, Mayor! I will definitely be there on time! I definitely will!"

The phone hangs up.

Will stood in his office, phone in hand, a broad smile on his face.

His life is about to take off.

But who is this Rosen?

---

Mayor's Office.

Thomas put down his phone, leaned back in his chair, and remained silent for a few seconds.

Then he looked at his secretary, a slight smile playing on his lips:

"We've done this kid such a big favor, we can't let it go to waste."

The secretary immediately understood what he meant:

"You mean—"

"Riding on this wave of public opinion, we should press our advantage."

Thomas's fingers began tapping on the table again.

"I will use the public opinion he brings to my advantage for political propaganda. The press conference is just the beginning. Over the next three days, I will make sure that all of Houston and all of Texas knows the name Rosen."

The secretary nodded: "Understood."

Thomas turned around and looked at the computer screen.

On the screen is Rosen's information.

That young face stood under the spotlight, his eyes calm.

Thomas stared at the face, his eyes narrowing slightly.

The next mayoral election is less than six months away.

The Roll family's power had waned due to their previous business failures, and they could no longer offer him much assistance in this election.

He didn't have much hope of being re-elected and was even considering his options.

But now—

Rosen's appearance showed him a possibility.

A person of Chinese descent.

A Chinese American who crawled out of a slum.

A Chinese man who risked his life to save people during the explosion.

If public opinion can explode, if he can make Rosen a hero in Houston—

The votes of minorities, the votes of the underprivileged, the votes of those disillusioned with the government—

To whom will they all flow?

Thomas's smile deepened.

Moreover, a person of Chinese descent is much easier to control.

In this land, if people with yellow skin want to gain a foothold, they must rely on a certain white power. Without background or foundation, as long as they are given a bone, they will obediently follow orders.

He can bite whomever you want him to bite.

Thomas leaned back, looked at the calm face on the screen, and said softly:

"Rosen, you really are... a gift delivered to my door."

The secretary stood to the side, looking at the mayor's confident expression, and suddenly felt a mix of emotions.

He recalled the Chinese-American at the press conference.

That young man, standing under the spotlight, neither humble nor arrogant, who set the tone for the entire audience with just a few words.

Will that person really be a docile dog, just like the mayor thinks?

The secretary opened her mouth, as if to say something.

But in the end he said nothing.

She simply lowered her head and softly replied:

"Yes, Your Excellency."

Outside the window, the night was deep.

In different corners of this city, different people are making their own plans.

Some people thought they had seized an opportunity.

Some people thought they had the situation under control.

Some people thought they had found a chess piece.

But little did they know—

Sometimes, what you perceive as a pawn may be watching you, waiting for you to step into the trap it has set.

---

[About Single-Player Games]:

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