126: Chapter 46: Smashed the Arican Dream?
126: Chapter 46: Smashed the Arican Dream?
Saint Rodu, a certain restaurant.
A blonde white girl was dining with Temir.
The quality of the als at a Michelin-starred restaurant was naturally extraordinary, but Lisa was eating with a marked lack of interest at the mont.
She forcefully shoved food into her mouth, chewing vigorously while complaining to her best friend.
“He still hasn’t returned the 2000 dollars to .
Just now when I was transferring money from the main card to the subcard, I should’ve directly deducted 2000.”
“Why don’t you just ask him for it?
Just ask directly, with his personality, he definitely won’t refuse.”
The black-haired wealthy woman understood her best friend’s symptoms very well.
She knew Lisa all too well.
Most of the ti, the blonde white girl was quite smart, but sotis, she displayed a peculiarly foolish kindness.
A loan that could clearly be recovered, yet she felt too embarrassed to ask for it directly.
She could even guess what Lisa was thinking.
It was probably, “I only lent it to him two days ago, asking now would seem too…”
“The other day I knew you were about to collaborate with him, so I wanted to help him leave the dangerous streets quickly, but asking for it now, it seems like I’m being very stingy.”
“Hehe!” The black-haired wealthy woman didn’t even bother to add another word.
“Are you mocking ?” The blonde white girl’s expression turned sour.
“No, I just thought of sothing funny,” she said.
“What’s so funny?”
“The news said that the chair of the police bureau’s board of directors in Saint Rodu was burned to death at ho in a natural gas explosion.
Counting the one who committed suicide last night, that makes two dead now.
The West Coast, tsk!”
The black-haired wealthy woman was already starting to miss ho.
In Missouri, genuine virtues hadn’t been forgotten.
People talk about deaths as they occur, all very matter-of-factly.
Not like the West Coast where it’s either suicide or natural gas explosions.
They make a huge fuss about abductions, only to gag the dia, with so much going on behind the scenes.
It’s just too filthy.
“You an there’s sothing wrong here?”
Lisa had never paid attention to these things before.
The neighborhood she lived in, the school she attended, and the place she worked were always far from danger.
It was only because last night’s kidnapping was such a huge incident, and it involved a friend of hers.
“I guess in the coming months, many LAPD officers will suffer a lot of concussions.”
The wealthy woman stopped halfway through her sentence, not explaining further, but waiting for Lisa to continue asking.
Not understanding the aning of her friend’s words, Lisa picked up her wine glass and silently took a sip of red wine.
She was waiting for Temir to be unable to hold back since she knew her best friend’s need to vent.
“You don’t know about the concussion with an Arican twist, honey?”
“Isn’t that a very common illness?
How could it have an Arican twist?”
“Because it’s classified as non-combat attrition, which can be used to cover up real casualties.
It’s prevalent in Arica’s military, but I guess it’s a contagious disease since it has now spread to the LAPD.”
The black-haired wealthy woman explained clearly, leaving Lisa sowhat perplexed.
“You an, many soldiers in our army died of ‘concussion with an Arican twist’ superficially, but not really?”
“Concussion with an Arican twist is just a representation.
There could be other forms, like a cold with an Arican twist, or colorectal cancer with an Arican twist; they are all non-combat attrition.”
“Are you joking?
How could Arica’s army be so pathetic?”
The blonde white girl found it sowhat hard to believe.
Her thoughts and reasoning represented the vast majority of Aricans.
These people might be aware that Arica was increasingly off-track and may have beco less patriotic.
But under the brainwashing of Arica’s propaganda machinery over many years, they believed that even if Arica had taken so wrong turns, it was still mighty and unbeatable.
Just yesterday, Lisa had discussed the true essence of Arican-style freedom and democracy with the black-haired wealthy woman.
They believed that Arican values were very correct, that the military was still the best in the world, and that the economy was also very strong.
“Tis have changed, honey.
The Afghan veteran last night is an example.
He kept extending his service for six whole years.
Arica’s military has been ruined by those military-industrial complexes, by the officers who collude with them and the higher-ups at the Pentagon, and the politicians.”
“It’s a fact that may seem unbelievable, but it is true,” the wealthy woman stated plainly, her family being in the manufacturing industry, she had never harbored any affection for Arica’s military-industrial complex and was naturally blunt.
“In Afghanistan, non-combat attrition numbers for our soldiers rise every year.
Our congress approved billions of dollars in budget to build a road in Afghanistan.
Guess how long they’ve been at it?”
Lisa had no idea how long it took to construct a road.
She pondered and ventured an answer tentatively.
“Five years?”
This was the highest number she could imagine.
Lisa thought that even if construction was slow, it would be enough ti to build the sa road over five years.
“Heh, the answer is over a decade.
It’s been more than ten years, and they haven’t even finished half of it.
Arica’s military has been ‘winning’ in Afghanistan for over a decade, yet the area under control keeps shrinking.”
“Then why… I still find it hard to believe what you are saying.
Why would Arica be like this?”
“Why?
Because those people love to lie!
They’ve lied so much that they’ve even started to believe their own lies,” she said with a scoff.
Of course, the reasons were complex, but Temir couldn’t be bothered to explain; she simply vented her frustrations.
The blonde white girl was filled with mixed emotions, feeling as though her worldview was collapsing.
The great Arica she believed in didn’t seem to exist, according to her best friend’s words.
—————–
“Why should we believe in the Arican dream?
I an, we all know it’s a beautiful lie coined by politicians, so why do we still believe it?”
Sitting on the high stool in the small pub, Cheng Daqi was earnestly attempting to persuade (stricken through) his friends.
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