[Chapter 909: Hope for Peace]
To learn Chinese, William White once read Journey to the West. Well, it was just a comic book; his Chinese skills weren't good enough to read the original version.
To be honest, he thought those deities were just bored out of their minds. Why go through all that trouble when they could just toss Sanzang over? And then there's that Sun Wukong -- if he could travel ten thousand miles with a flip, why make his master walk all the way?
What baffled him the most was, aside from the White Bone Demon, all the other monsters had powerful backers. After all that fuss, they still had to return to their owners.
Naturally, it's understandable that a foreigner wouldn't get it. This was how the ancient Chinese propagated Buddhism, so they had to write it that way. Didn't he notice that all the Taoist priests were villains?
Having a strong backing ant being reckless; that's a the from rabbit country novels. For William White, that didn't exist. If he couldn't handle the Wall Street Journal toughly, the next thing that would pop up would be the Daily Telegraph.
Things were looking good now; European newspapers were all focusing on the Dayton Agreent. This agreent, signed before Thanksgiving, ended the chaos in Europe.
It was about ti; the fighting had already caused too much death and destruction, so there was simply no reason to continue.
Sarajevo was indeed a strange place. If it were up to anyone, nobody would want war to erupt here.
Except for Arica; best if you all keep fighting. War is great! If you all got your act together, my position as the alpha would likely be at risk, too.
This agreent was great. It was a perfect opportunity to look back on World War II.
You know, your descendants seem to have forgiven all those atrocities.
Of course, White dia was simply reminiscing. They were just skimming the surface; if you had any bad thoughts about that, then it's your conscience that's dirty, so everything you see will seem dirty.
"Dude, stop ssing around. Those old-tirs are going crazy."
"Co on! Where are we? I was planning to describe why little mustache was going off the rails. Being rich and uncaring is great, hoarding and exploiting is fine, but they have the ability to make money and not the ability to protect it."
"Cough, cough. William, they are really anxious, so spill it, what are the conditions?"
"World peace, how about that?"
"Oh man, that's too outrageous. You can't be serious!" The voice on the other end, small Bush, clearly sounded skeptical. He perceived that William White wasn't really upset. All those external comnts were just his own assumptions.
"World peace isn't doable? Then let's aim for the World Cup, and the U.S. team wins the championship."
"Fine, I'll study the map first. World peace seems more attainable."
"Hahaha, you shouldn't underestimate them. If they changed the rules, like two people or one person playing, they might have a shot."
William White's conditions were simple; he was just establishing authority. He wasn't really aiming to help anyone. Besides, there was no way to overturn it. You can't say little mustache was a jerk; after all, those guys weren't angels either.
So, seeing that, you all should just apologize, alright? A front-page story, no less than four thousand words.
"Pfft, four thousand words?"
"Of course! If it's not profound enough, I'll know they haven't realized their mistakes. No negotiations on this one."
"Got it, I understand."
"When it's published, then we can stop. Oh, tell them the Bancroft family won't have my friendship, ever."
"Okay, I'll convey it."
William White's ssage was straightforward -- just a temporary pause. It wouldn't be that easy to quell his anger.
This ant he could strike back at any mont. If they didn't want to be friends, then adversaries would do -- eternal foes.
Whether Europe continued its war wasn't William White's concern. But now that peace had been restored, whether short-term or long-term, gold's safe-haven appeal would undoubtedly decline.
Sigh, those who had resources at ho were actually the ones most worried about world peace.
If there was no conflict, wouldn't gold be unwanted? Did William White's stock of gold just keep increasing?
"Filson, since gold is under pressure, I agree; we'll implent that plan next year."
Filson took a sip of coffee, finally setting down a concern. The boss had been so combative lately that he thought he'd forgotten about this matter.
Since William White disagreed with reducing gold reserves, the only thing to do now was hedge. A drop in gold prices was a very likely event, so with cash flow available, it made sense to prepare early.
"Sir, what's up with signing this agreent before Thanksgiving? What do they an by that?"
"It's not a big deal. They couldn't continue fighting; everything was in ruins, and there were refugees everywhere. Everyone likes a pretty country. They couldn't let it turn into the disaster it is now; even the gods wouldn't be able to save it."
"That's good, I've always felt sothing was off. They probably don't even have a Thanksgiving, right?"
"Who knows? Our White Foundation donated so food and dical facilities. We can skip the thanks; let's just hope they don't turn on us. People today, it seems, have lost their integrity; this world can't afford to be too kind."
Was William White a good person?
The answer was evident. After this storm, you'd better use respectful terms if you ntioned William White in public.
Of course, you could be obstinate about it. If you had made the sa contributions.
But if you hadn't done anything, it's best to keep quiet; otherwise, that colloquial phrase would definitely co back to bite you.
The Bancroft family was struggling. Every ti they spoke his na, it triggered that peculiar phrase in everyone's head.
No BB, damn it, family honor lost in an instant--whose fault was that? They were the ones bringing sha upon us.
1995 was nearly over, and the economic situation this year really could only be described as booming. Of course, with the exception of footbaths.
A seemingly random earthquake couldn't possibly cause such massive losses. The key issue was confidence; just when there seed to be a glimr of hope, the heavens struck again.
Confidence was more important than anything; if we're cutting the wheat, just don't be too brutal. That number 6124 was really a thorn for many.
The economy was doing well, and what was frustrating was that resource products like oil and gold didn't keep pace with economic growth.
For a ti after xican oil entered the U.S. market, oil prices had even dipped below $13 a barrel. Extracting oil from sand was relatively cheap. But for William White, extracting it from the sea seed nearly impossible.
With the economy booming, oil demand was increasing. The North Caucasus was in conflict again. The oil from Kazakh and Big Wooden couldn't be sold, and looking at the supply side, oil output was declining.
However, oil just wouldn't rise.
Gold faced the sa situation; Europe was in conflict, Africa was too. A small-scale economic crisis was even happening in South Arica.
Don't get started on all those issues. Even a moderately large earthquake could potentially cause gold prices to rise. Yet, with all these events piling up, gold prices didn't budge.
You should know that the economies of the rabbits and the Indias were developing very rapidly, and their demand for gold continued to increase.
As for gold mines, there hasn't been much change; this substance is different from oil. If you dig a bit faster, it won't be long before it's all gone.
Since all these commodities weren't increasing, that only left a few possibilities: Russia was finished; whatever war there was was likely small scale. Europe's powder keg had been extinguished, so besides economic developnt, nothing else seed to matter much.
*****
spatreon/Sayonara816.
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