The Rise Of A Billionaire 1943

"What? Only 1,000 rifles? Is…is that true?"

Hearing this number, Harry felt as if he was about to faint, staring in disbelief at Pierre. Outside the room, the sound of airplane propellers could be heard.

Pierre placed the documents in front of Harry and said,

"These files include telegrams from the chief of staff of the China Theater to the Pentagon, reporting how supplies were withheld and refused shipment to China. There are also telegrams from the Chinese side requesting delivery of supplies, as well as handover records for the few supplies that did reach China. All of this proves one thing: Roosevelt never really intended to fight the Japanese."

"If…if this is true…"

Looking at the documents before him, Harry felt his heart pounding violently. He could barely form words, and the other party probably couldn't make out what he was saying. He tried to raise his voice:

"If this is true, it really does prove your point."

"But do you realize what this means? This isn't just ammunition—it's a bayonet!"

"A bayonet aimed at the President, one that could very well change the outcome of the election!"

Pierre picked up his wine glass, glanced elsewhere, and said nothing. He simply gazed quietly out the window.

"Just as Marshall said—he didn't care what happened on the Chinese front. He only cared about Europe! And the President was the same!"

It had to be said, having a few friends in the Pentagon was indeed useful. These pieces of intelligence were provided by friends there—people who had been marginalized by Marshall's "China clique" and were happy to see someone strike back at Marshall.

Turning to Harry, Pierre asked,

"Do you think I care whether Roosevelt gets re-elected?"

I'm French—do I need to worry about an American?

It was the same with arms, and the same with loans. Throughout the entire war, America kept deceiving China with beautiful lies!

In fact, it could be said that during the war, the harm America did to China was no less than that done by Japan!

After the outbreak of the Pacific War, the lend-lease supplies China had hoped for were extremely limited. The price China paid for those supplies was so steep it nearly caused economic collapse. China had to provide supplies and labor for the U.S. forces stationed in China.

From July 1942 to the end of 1944, China advanced about 50 billion yuan to the United States—which, at the exchange rate at the time, amounted to 2.5 billion U.S. dollars! This sum was equivalent to several years of government…

48.5% of the total actual revenue of the government treasury! That's equivalent to 26.4% of the total legal currency in circulation over 44 years.

When a new airport capable of accommodating B-29 bombers was being built in Chengdu, China mobilized over 400,000 laborers. The U.S. had originally promised that the construction costs would be paid from the American "Gold Loan." To this end, China advanced 8 billion legal currency for airport construction, and the Central Bank advanced another 4.8 billion legal currency for the construction of air force bases. According to the current official exchange rate of 20 legal currency to one U.S. dollar, this amounts to as much as $640 million—far exceeding the total amount of the Gold Loan.

To pay for these advances, China had no choice but to print large amounts of legal currency, which greatly exacerbated inflation. However, the gold that was supposed to be delivered to China to stabilize the currency and buy back the excess from the market has, to date, amounted to less than $20 million.

Why did this happen?

Because China was desperate to defeat Japan, to reclaim lost territory with the help of the United States.

But the U.S. exploited our urgency and desire, time and again trying to act as a supreme overlord. In another world, a scholar once described the wartime relationship between the two countries as "allies on the brink of drawing swords." For a nation that had suffered a century of humiliation, the one thing it could not tolerate was being ordered around by an overlord.

Yet the status the Americans wanted was precisely the bottom line for the Chinese people, both then and now.

It was for this reason that, throughout World War II, we were repeatedly betrayed and deceived by our so-called allies.

And now?

What Pierre wants to do is to strike back hard at those who have betrayed and deceived us, including Luo the Cripple!

If Luo the Cripple wants to prioritize Europe before Asia, that's his business, but... he must never sell out our interests!

The squeaky wheel gets the grease, while the sycophant ends up with nothing. This time, they need to know that China can get angry too!

Looking at the thick file folder, Harry said:

"You must have a backup plan. Dewey is just a knife in your hand, isn't he?"

Taking a sip of whiskey, Pierre smiled.

"I'm a businessman. What I care about is profit. In the end, it depends on what he can offer me!"

Swirling his glass and gazing at the amber liquid, Pierre felt a surge of excitement, for at this moment, he might be influencing history!

He might even affect whether Roosevelt could win a fourth term. If Roosevelt lost the election, what would happen?

Hmm... not much would change; Dewey would probably intensify the offensive against Japan. After all, throughout the campaign, he criticized Roosevelt's "Europe First, Asia Later" policy.

"Our boys' blood... isn't it precious?"

Those were Dewey's words, and also Pierre's retort.

"By the way, there's a Mr. Song in Washington. If Dewey is interested, he can get more from him. I've heard that, because Washington refused to send funds for the airport construction, work in China has already stopped. The Chengdu airport was meant for bombing Japan!"

Pierre has plenty of cards up his sleeve!

Since the Americans won't pay, then stop building the airport. Although the Chinese have never done this before, in these changing times, the authorities at home should know what to do to force the Americans to send more supplies and funds to China, rather than just deceive us!

Bombing Japan is the most basic wish of hundreds of millions of Chinese. The military and civilians even brought their own food and didn't ask for a penny, using the most primitive manual labor to build four large airports. However, the bombing campaign against Japan severely squeezed the capacity of the "Hump Route," which directly resulted in a large amount of aid to China being stuck in India and not making it to China before the B-29 bombers were transferred to the Pacific in January 1945.

Bombing Japan... as satisfying as it is, should be left to the Americans. The "Hump Route" is best used solely for transporting aid to China.

"I'll get this material to Dewey through certain channels..."

Harry thought for a moment and said seriously:

"I'll make sure you're not implicated. After all, your ultimate goal is to help Roosevelt solve this big problem! God, I really want to see what's in your mind. What's your next move?..."

Studying Pierre carefully, Harry asked:

"Dewey is the knife in your hand, but what about Roosevelt? Are you trying to use this knife to force Roosevelt to increase aid to China?"

Setting his empty glass on the table, Pierre smiled slightly.

"There's a saying in China: the squeaky wheel gets the grease! That's just a bonus. As for him... I have other plans!"

---

Whether the squeaky wheel gets the grease or not is not important.

What matters is that troublemakers always need to be appeased, especially when you need something from them.

Moreover, when others are using this troublemaker as a knife.

Soon, major newspapers in Washington, New York, and elsewhere published a piece of news:

"To support the European theater, Allied Command has ordered resources to be tilted as much as possible toward Europe, resulting in the suspension of airport construction for bombing Tokyo due to lack of funds."

A seemingly inconspicuous piece of news immediately struck a nerve with the American public. After all, the reason they joined WWII was to fight the Japanese and avenge Pearl Harbor.

For years, it's been all about Europe or Russia.

Almost no one mentioned the Pacific...

The public had long been dissatisfied. Now, even the construction of the airfields for bombing Tokyo had been halted due to lack of funds. Bombing Tokyo was the most basic and direct wish of the American people, yet not only had vast resources been given to Britain and the Soviet Union, even this small wish was being stifled. How could the public possibly accept this?

Amidst the uproar in public opinion, Dewey, Roosevelt's political rival, immediately seized the opportunity to attack, criticizing the government's "Europe First" policy through various channels. He accused Roosevelt of manipulating Americans' patriotism. The United States had entered World War II because of Japan's sneak attack on Pearl Harbor, yet the government had sent billions of dollars' worth of supplies to Britain and the Soviet Union, and even the defeated France received hundreds of millions of dollars, while China, which had been fighting Japan for twelve years, received only a few tens of millions.

Not only that, even the Marines fighting the Japanese in the Pacific were still using outdated rifles from the last war and the notoriously faulty Reising submachine guns. Because of the "Europe First" policy, American troops in Britain lounged in the sun with semi-automatic rifles, while Marines in the Pacific had to fight the Japanese with their fathers' trench weapons and jam-prone submachine guns.

"British blood is blood, Russian blood is blood, but isn't the blood of our own young men just as precious? They are bleeding in the Pacific too!"

Dewey's attacks hit right at the heart of the matter. At the same time, someone—no one knew who—handed him another weapon: in the past two years, only a thousand rifles had actually arrived in China as aid!

The rest of the guns had been held back and not shipped to China!

"I don't care at all about the outcome on the Chinese front. What I care about is Europe! Only Europe!"

Such blunt words in Marshall's telegram caused a public outcry, because the Chinese front was fighting—against the Japanese!

Thus, criticism erupted across the United States. So this is how we're fighting the Japanese? All the posters are about killing Japanese soldiers, but now you're telling me—you don't care about the Japanese at all!

The hard-earned money of ordinary Americans was all being thrown into Europe.

Dewey's attacks were sharp and well-documented. In short, he summed it up: "The White House pursues 'Europe First' and has no intention of killing Japanese!"

Each blow struck directly at the White House and Roosevelt himself. Unlike previous criticisms, this time Dewey had real evidence.

"Who stabbed me in the back?!"

Roosevelt was furious that Dewey had gotten hold of Pentagon documents, but at this point, getting angry would solve nothing.

He was forced to make the Pentagon the scapegoat, claiming Marshall's views were personal and did not represent the White House. He tried to explain that the allocation of Lend-Lease supplies was calculated by the Pentagon according to the intensity of the fighting, desperately searching for excuses.

Naturally, Dewey countered: De Gaulle, basking in the sun in Britain and doing nothing, received over a billion dollars a year, while China, fighting the Japanese every day, got only tens of millions—and just a thousand rifles actually delivered!

Is this fighting the Japanese?

It's more like helping the Japanese fight their own allies!

Not only were supplies withheld from China, but last year, the already meager aid to China was largely diverted to North Africa.

Dewey's relentless attacks left Roosevelt scrambling to respond. To calm public opinion, after making the Pentagon the scapegoat and ordering the replacement of the theater chief of staff, Roosevelt even redirected supplies originally intended for Britain and the Soviet Union to India. At a press conference, he told Americans, "Today, we sent another 1,000 tons of supplies to Kunming and Chengdu via the Hump route!"

Of course, they didn't mention that half of those supplies were transported by the Chinese themselves, or that Italian pilots were flying the planes, or that the cargo wasn't even American supplies.

They just told everyone they were aiding China.

As for the halted construction of the airfields, that was not due to funds being diverted to Europe, but rather a communication issue between the parties.

Soon, under Roosevelt's direct intervention, the gold loan agreement was finally implemented. In a blessing in disguise, the U.S. promised to provide no less than $1.5 billion in aid to support China's war of resistance in 1944, and guaranteed that the supplies would actually reach China, not just be delivered to India and counted as aid.

Just as American public opinion was in an uproar and Roosevelt and Dewey were fiercely debating the "Europe First" policy, news arrived from Asia of a great victory in Central Henan.

"…In the Central Henan region, hundreds of thousands of Chinese troops fought nearly 200,000 Japanese soldiers for over thirty days. The enemy suffered more than 30,000 casualties, lost over 240 tanks, and more than 150 artillery pieces…"

Reading the news in the paper, Pierre appeared especially calm. All of this was both expected and unexpected. It was expected because, in another world, there was a precedent—just months after the disastrous defeat in the Henan-Hunan-Guangxi campaign, the Chinese army launched the Battle of West Hunan. At that time, the Burma Road was reopened, American aid poured into China, the army's equipment was upgraded, and its combat effectiveness improved. This led to the later great victory in West Hunan. The subsequent counteroffensive proved that as long as there was enough ammunition and supplies, the Chinese could defeat the Japanese.

As long as there are ammunition and supplies… The patriotism and passion of the Chinese people are enough to defeat the Japanese. After all, the Chinese had endured for seven years with nothing but flesh and blood!

In the past three months, as much as seventy thousand tons of supplies had arrived in China—several times the historical amount for the same period. The previously under-equipped troops were finally replenished.

"…Perhaps, this is the real change."

First

Although this was just a victory in a single battle, it truly changed many things.

"Well then, perhaps the resistance against Japan will be a bit easier from now on."

This Japanese offensive was the largest since the Meiji Restoration. Their setback meant the Japanese army had lost its offensive advantage on the mainland; from here on, the initiative in the war would no longer be in their hands.

Thinking of this, a genuine, radiant smile appeared on Pierre's face. This smile came from the bottom of his heart, because this was the first step in burying the "Little Japs."

"Under Mount Fuji, drunken courtesans… I'm getting closer and closer!"

With a sigh, Pierre turned his gaze into the distance. Standing atop the Empire State Building, he looked out over Manhattan, gazing at the surrounding skyscrapers. This was the most prosperous metropolis of the twentieth century.

Though prosperous, it did not belong to him. But across the ocean, there was a land waiting for its master to return.

At this thought, the corners of Pierre's lips curled upward. In his pride, he even whistled softly and muttered to himself,

"Give me twenty years, and I'll give you a miraculous… Borneo!"

In that instant, his ambition was no longer just North Borneo, but the whole of Borneo!

After all, human ambition always tends to grow!

---

##

Ambition is always expanding, often changing with the environment.

While the American political and military circles were busy coping with the aid-to-China scandal, Pierre had already set his sights on another piece of land.

"Kingdom of Brooke."

"What?"

Seeing Zhang Weilun's confusion, Pierre took out a map—one he had brought back from Britain, a map of Borneo.

Spreading out the map, he looked at the world's third-largest island, right in the heart of Southeast Asia, with an area of over 700,000 square kilometers. With 743,000 square kilometers, if it were a country, it would easily rank among the top forty in the world by land area.

Pointing to the northeast corner of the map, Pierre said,

"Weilun, look, this is the territory of the North Borneo Company, 74,000 square kilometers. Its other name is 'Land Below the Wind.' Although it's near the equator, it's never been hit by tropical storms. This company—you know—I've already bought it."

As he spoke, Pierre even wanted to put his hands on his hips and show off a little—being a landlord of 74,000 square kilometers!

Definitely the biggest landowner of the era. But he could only think about it; as a big shot, he had to remain composed.

Zhang Weilun glanced at the map and said coolly,

"And then? Below it is the Kingdom of Sarawak."

In his view, the North Borneo Company was just a pipe dream. Would the British really hand over tens of thousands of square kilometers to a foreigner?

"Yes, exactly—the Kingdom of Sarawak!"

Pierre nodded.

"The Kingdom of Sarawak was founded by a Briton named James Brooke. His story is legendary. In 1835, he used a £30,000 inheritance from his father to buy a merchant ship called the Royalist and set off for Asia to seek adventure. In 1838, he sailed to Borneo, arriving in Kuching that August. There, Chinese miners and local natives launched a rebellion. Brooke met with the Sultan of Brunei and offered to help suppress the revolt. With his ship's cannons and his sailors' muskets, he crushed the uprising. Afterwards, the Sultan of Brunei granted him the title of 'Rajah' of Sarawak. After a few years, once he had established himself, he confronted the Sultan and demanded independence. The Sultan sent troops to suppress him, but they were soundly defeated, and he was forced to cede large tracts of land. Not only that, Brooke continued to expand his territory, and in the end, most of Brunei's land was taken over by him."

Listening to Pierre's explanation, Zhang Weilun seemed to understand where his "landlord complex" came from—there was a precedent, after all.

"Mr. James Brooke really was a legend! As an outsider, he managed to turn the tables and seize such a vast territory, even becoming king there. It's hard to imagine. But, boss, that was over a hundred years ago—and he was British…"

"So what if he was British?"

Pierre waved his hand and said,

"Britain is already in decline. In the past, Britain could protect it, but now and in the future, that won't be possible. After the war, the British will surely try every means to take the country back under their control."

Pierre didn't know exactly how Britain took Sarawak historically, but since it became a state of Malaysia, that meant the country was, in fact, gone.

And to Pierre, that was an opportunity.

"When the British force them to hand over the country, I think I can just pay to buy it!"

"What? Buy a country?"

Seeing Zhang Weilun's look of shock, the corners of Pierre's mouth curled up—by more than seventy degrees.

"Yes, that's right, buy a country! If a million pounds isn't enough, then two million. If two million isn't enough, then three million…"

Spending three million pounds to buy 124,450 square kilometers of land—now that's the deal of the century.

That's just a little over twenty pounds per square kilometer. Plus, there's a huge amount of oil there. Even just one year's worth of oil extraction would almost cover the cost.

"Well, I…"

I think the British authorities probably acquired Sarawak by simply paying for it. No matter how much the British offer, I'll just bid a million pounds more than them, and that should be enough. After all, people are always greedy!"

Watching Pierre, who was now calculating how to buy a country, Zhang Weilun was left speechless. He said bluntly:

"Boss, do you know what you're saying?"

"I know. I'm just talking about buying a country, that's all."

That's all!

Zhang Weilun couldn't help but size up his boss. Did he really know what he was doing?

"Boss, I don't mean to rain on your parade, but you have to understand, that's an entire country."

"I know—it's a country."

"You want to buy a country."

"Yes. Selling a country is selling a country, no matter who the buyer is. The highest bidder wins!"

Seeing his boss like this, Zhang Weilun decided to be direct.

"Boss, even if you put it that way, it's still a country. How could the British possibly hand over their protectorate to you? Even if it's just the North Borneo Company, and even if, legally, you buying this company is legitimate, do you really think the British wouldn't drag you into lawsuits for ten or even twenty years? By the time the lawsuits are over, that place might have already been turned from a company into a colony. By then, well, you'll probably just get some compensation money, that's all."

Pierre agreed with Zhang Weilun's assessment. This was the most likely and reasonable outcome if nothing unexpected happened.

"Yes, you're absolutely right. If it were in the past, that outcome would be almost certain!"

Pierre nodded, taking his eyes off the map and looking at Zhang Weilun.

"But now things are different. In the past, I was only seventy percent confident, but now I'm one hundred percent sure. I can make Britain back down. In fact, I'm certain I can get my hands on this juicy piece of meat! As long as I can take North Borneo, I can take Sarawak, and even the whole of Borneo..."

In that instant, Pierre's gaze became determined, the corners of his mouth lifting into a confident smile.

"How is that possible, Boss?"

Just as Zhang Weilun stared at his boss in shock, the sudden ringing of the phone interrupted him. After answering, Pierre's smile grew even broader at the voice on the other end.

Finally, the long-awaited call had come!

Despite his excitement, Pierre appeared calm, because... everything was going according to plan, from acquiring that batch of arms in Italy to this very moment!

After nearly half a year of painstaking effort, step by step, everything had been leading up to this call!

Listening to the voice on the other end, Pierre steadied his emotions and replied,

"Alright, I understand. I'll fly to Washington this afternoon."

---

Once again, he arrived in Washington.

As he walked out of the airport, he saw Lautrey waiting by the roadside. Because he'd come in such a hurry, he had neither bodyguards nor a reception, and had hastily recruited a sturdy young woman to act as his driver.

"Hello, Mr. Pierre. Where are we headed? To the hotel, or...?"

Actually, when she received Pierre's call, Lautrey was quite surprised. Although she was the liaison between the Defense Supply Company and him and they had a lot of business dealings, they rarely contacted each other directly; most of the time, communication went through secretaries.

But this time seemed different.

Well, since she was the driver, she had to do her job properly.

"Hmm…"

After thinking for a moment, Pierre glanced at the young woman in front of him and asked,

"Do you have any plans for tonight?"

"What?"

The girl's heart skipped a beat, and she looked at the man nervously. Just as she was about to say something, he continued,

"I'm having dinner at a friend's house tonight. It would be awkward to go alone. If you don't have any other plans, come with me."

Then, Pierre closed his eyes, contemplating this sudden invitation.

The reason for his rushed trip to Washington was because he had received an invitation.

And the one who invited him was none other than Truman.

What could have made Truman so anxious to invite him to Washington?

The answer was simple—Roosevelt was panicking!

After Dewey's relentless attacks, American public opinion was full of criticism towards Roosevelt.

Despite Roosevelt's desperate attempts to make amends, it was useless. The American people were furious. After all, many Americans were bleeding in the Pacific, and yet the damn White House didn't seem to care about the Japanese!

All the attention was on Europe!

This stirred up painful memories of America being "betrayed" in the last war.

So now, criticism of Roosevelt was coming from all sides, and the situation was escalating beyond even Pierre's expectations.

Roosevelt's "Europe First" policy had become the target of universal condemnation, with even many within his own party speaking out against him.

Dewey's attacks were deadly—so deadly that Roosevelt was panicking!

Roosevelt panicked, so Truman came to find him!

Just as planned!

Two months ago, Roosevelt had announced his vice-presidential candidate—

—Senator Truman, this decision took everyone by surprise. After all, there are so many people more suitable than him.

As for Truman himself, although he had long since prepared himself mentally, he actually became even more eager to meet with Pierre.

He waited and waited, but all Truman received was a congratulatory phone call from Pierre.

That was all.

In fact, this was just a tactic—there was no need to be overly enthusiastic, a simple congratulations would suffice.

Of course, Truman had no idea that all of this was just a maneuver by his "spiritual mentor."

"If possible, I'd like to invite you to my home for dinner tonight, my friend."

Recalling Truman's phone call, a faint smile appeared on Pierre's lips.

He was invited to visit Washington as a guest.

A guest!

This meant that, in Truman's eyes, Pierre had already been elevated from a sponsor to a friend. And what did he need?

Precisely, the support of a friend.

But did the support of a friend have to be so urgent?

...

"Pierre, perhaps you don't know this yet, but here in Washington, almost everyone is waiting for the chance to meet you, this wealthy tycoon from the East. After all, no one would refuse to be friends with a rich man. If they knew that the first thing you did after getting off the plane was to come to my place, they'd probably be green with envy."

As Truman finished speaking, laughter filled the restaurant. Mrs. Truman chimed in with a smile.

"Harry, let them be jealous. The friendship between friends is something they can never envy."

Mrs. Truman then turned her gaze to Lautray and said,

"Dear, Harry and Pierre are very good friends. They've known each other for a long time."

Lautray nodded in confusion. No matter what, she never imagined that the "dinner at a friend's house" Pierre mentioned would actually be at the home of the Vice Presidential candidate.

Wasn't this a bit too much?

I'm just a driver!

Lautray couldn't help but complain inwardly. She was only a driver—since Pierre was flying into Washington, she'd been arranged to pick him up. He said he was going to a friend's for dinner and asked if she'd like to come along, since it wasn't easy to get a cab here.

Who would have thought that his so-called "friend" was the Vice President himself!

My God!

And now, the way Mrs. Truman looked at her was as if… she were his girlfriend.

Heaven knows, she was just an ordinary part-time staff member, still in school!

Who would want such a playboy for a boyfriend!

She felt like she was sitting on pins and needles throughout the meal. For a teenage girl, being brought to the Vice President's house for dinner—wasn't that a bit overwhelming?

Was this the kind of dinner party a young girl should be attending?

Sensing Lautray's discomfort, Mrs. Truman said,

"Lautray, let's go to the living room and listen to some music. Let's leave the gentlemen to their conversation."

Truman smiled and said,

"Elizabeth, please take care of Miss Lautray. Pierre and I will go to the study for a smoke."

Everything seemed so natural. After the laughter and casual conversation at the table, it was time to get down to business. Once in the study, Truman took a cigar from the box on his desk and handed it to Pierre, saying,

"This was sent to me by Churchill, after the President announced me as the Vice Presidential candidate."

A simple sentence, but it revealed a lot—the most important being that Churchill only sent the cigar after he became the Vice Presidential candidate. Such a "friend," of course… wasn't really a friend at all.

"Harry, I believe this is only the beginning,"

Pierre said as he rotated the cigar and lit it with a lighter.

"I told you, one day you would become President, my friend. I have no doubt about it!"

"Pierre,"

Truman took a puff of his cigar and said,

"In my eyes, you are like a magician. Perhaps many people in China feel the same. Hundreds of millions of dollars' worth of arms—no one has ever been so generous, not even to their own country."

"Harry, I just picked up those arms."

Truman, who had just put the cigar to his lips, was instantly stunned. He stared at Pierre in disbelief, holding the cigar, completely bewildered.

"You really picked them up?"

Truman's tone was full of skepticism—how could he not be?

No one would ever believe such a story.

"I made a trip to Italy…"

Blowing a smoke ring, Pierre recounted, as calmly as possible, how he came across that cache of arms. Truman listened, utterly dumbfounded, unable to believe his ears, and was left speechless for a long time.

Seeing this, Pierre shrugged and said,

"Don't idolize me, it's just a legend."

##

Uh…

Alright, you are a legend!

Truman took a deep drag of his cigar, exhaled, and said,

"This really is a legend. But, Pierre, actually, if you had kept those arms…"

"Perhaps that would be even better."

Truman's suggestion caught Pierre off guard; it was clearly beyond his expectations.

"What?"

"North Borneo," Truman stated bluntly.

"I know you've acquired the North Borneo Company. Perhaps when the war ends, I can offer some assistance. But the British—they will stop you by any means necessary. So, I think you should contribute your share during the war."

As a quintessential politician, Truman knew exactly what he should do. His suggestion left Pierre a bit at a loss. He said,

"Contribute? Harry, what do you mean by that?"

Truman, holding a cigar, looked at Pierre and said,

"Get involved in the war."

"Get involved…"

Pierre frowned slightly and asked,

"How would I get involved? I'm just a company."

"The North Borneo Company isn't just an ordinary company, my friend—it owns its own colony. If you want to ensure that land remains yours after the war, participating in this conflict is the best way to protect your personal interests. After all, as a participant, we must safeguard your interests—I mean, America's interests."

Truman looked Pierre straight in the eye and spoke seriously.

"After all, America is also among the victors. America will ensure its own interests, and likewise, the interests of the winning side."

Truman's words sent Pierre into deep thought. He suddenly realized that his perspective had been a bit too narrow.

He had always thought of himself as just a "businessman," but he had overlooked one thing: he was a businessman who owned a colony. In a sense, he was also a belligerent party in the war—or rather, one of the participants.

If he could join the war effort, wouldn't that mean he could, as a victorious nation, participate in postwar reparations against Japan?

My goodness!

In that instant, Pierre was a little shaken.

Although reparations from Japan could provide funds for North Borneo's postwar reconstruction, what was even more important was that he could enter Japan as a member of the victorious powers.

Drunken beauties beneath Mount Fuji!

That was the dream of hundreds of millions of Chinese!

Thinking of this, Pierre said,

"It seems I don't have any troops to participate, and even if I did, the expenses would be considerable."

His words made Truman burst out laughing.

"Pierre, my friend, I meant for you to participate, not to go fight the Japanese yourself. Participation is what matters. It's fine if you don't have an army—you can recruit a mercenary force. I've heard there are many overseas Chinese in Cuba. If they had a chance to fight the Japanese, I doubt they'd refuse. Three years ago, after Cuba declared war on the Axis, Batista signed an agreement with the United States allowing us to build airfields in Cuba to protect Caribbean shipping. I think the military wouldn't mind training a North Borneo commando unit there. They could join the Allied counterattack on Borneo at the appropriate time!"

As Truman finished, he leaned back on the sofa, contentedly taking a puff of his cigar. A few months ago, he wouldn't have been able to make such an offer. But now, as America's future vice president, he could give such advice.

And this wasn't just a suggestion—it was a kind of promise!

This promise was his way of repaying friendship.

As an outstanding politician, Truman understood the essence of a deal: it's about giving. Only after giving can you expect to receive.

"Harry, thank you for your advice. I'll give it serious thought."

Pierre nodded. Did this really require any thought?

Of course not!

Originally, he had planned to make his move in North Borneo after the war. But now, with Truman's suggestion, he saw a new opportunity. As long as he seized it, North Borneo would be his—regardless of whether the British liked it or not.

What's that?

The British object?

Let them try to drive my troops out first!

After that, they stopped discussing North Borneo and turned to politics in Washington, chatting about politicians, which naturally led to the topic Truman cared most about.

"Pierre, as you know, the President has now announced me as his running mate, the future vice presidential candidate—just as you once predicted."

A prediction of the future!

That was precisely why Truman had invited Pierre to Washington—because he truly needed his advice. Or rather, not just advice, but his predictions for the future.

"But as his running mate, shouldn't I be doing something? After all, this is our campaign!"

Pierre pursed his lips, took another drag of his cigar, then gently waved away the smoke before him and said,

"Harry, why did the President choose you?"

"Well…"

After thinking for a moment, Truman replied,

"Actually, the President's original preference was the former Vice President, Wallace. But Henry's excessively liberal style made him unpopular within the party, and with internal strife so intense right now, the President chose me for the sake of balance. After all, I don't have strong factional ties—I'm a vice presidential candidate acceptable to all sides. This arrangement is mainly to win the election."

Truman was very clear about his own role. That was also why, when Roosevelt called him, he had initially refused.

"Actually, at first, I didn't accept the President's nomination. It wasn't until the President told me that if I refused, it could lead to a split within the party, and that I would have to bear the responsibility, that I finally agreed."

With that, Truman turned his gaze to Pierre. This guy had predicted all of this long ago. His decision to accept wasn't just out of a sense of responsibility; more importantly... It was because of the White House.

A man remains a boy at heart until his dying day—who doesn't have a bit of youthful ambition?

Although Truman never received a college education, once ran a clothing store that went bankrupt, and could only be considered a barely competent politician after being a failed businessman, he certainly didn't want to miss such an opportunity.

Even if he couldn't become President in the future, retiring from politics as Vice President would be enough to make his life feel complete.

"That's right, Harry. You're just a candidate meant to balance various factions. And what is it that the President really needs?"

Looking at Harry, Pierre asked in return.

"He needs someone who won't steal his spotlight, or rather, someone who won't pose any threat to his next term!"

Truman answered bluntly.

"In that case, what do you think you should do?"

Smiling at the 'mascot' before him, Pierre said.

"Let me tell you a story..."

---

As a life mentor, one always needs to tell stories.

Not just stories, but motivational tales.

People of the 21st century have long been immune to motivational 'chicken soup,' but for those in the 1940s, such words were very effective.

Don't be fooled—Truman, from high school student to failed businessman to politician, is definitely the protagonist of a motivational story. But even the most inspirational figures have moments of confusion, and that's when a spiritual mentor steps in to offer guidance.

In this respect, Pierre was undoubtedly qualified—not for any other reason than his knowledge of history and having read countless motivational tales.

Any one of those motivational stories, if brought into this era, would be considered a delicacy.

After a round of motivational storytelling, Truman was no longer confused; he found his purpose in life and became more confident. Of course, his friendship with Pierre also grew deeper.

Finally, after listening to the 'chicken soup,' Truman said,

"Pierre, you must be curious why I suddenly invited you to Washington."

"It was a bit unexpected," Pierre replied, leaning back on the sofa with a smile, sensing that they were finally getting to the main topic.

Is this going to be a dramatic revelation?

"Actually, it's not just that I need your help—there's someone else who needs your assistance."

"Oh?"

Looking at Truman, Pierre of course knew who that person was.

Who could make Truman come forward?

Or rather, who could make Truman personally seek him out? After all, very few people knew about their relationship.

This person must have a lot of influence!

The answer was obvious.

Besides, all of this was part of his own careful planning! Of course, he still had to play along.

"Is it the President?"

Truman was slightly taken aback and asked in surprise,

"You know?"

Seeing Pierre remain silent, Truman leaned forward slightly and said,

"Yes, the President needs your help!"

"Recently, because of the 'Europe First' policy, the President has been having a tough time. Dewey keeps stabbing him in the back, and even John Basilone has been complaining to reporters, saying the rifle he uses might as well be the M1903 his father used in Europe, and joking that the Marine Corps is like a stepchild..."

John Basilone, the 'Machine Gun Immortal' who killed over a thousand Japanese soldiers on Guadalcanal, had just received the Medal of Honor and was now touring the country for war bond drives. He was the hottest figure in America, and his complaints to reporters made things even harder for 'Old Roosevelt.'

For Roosevelt, who was determined to win a fourth term, he was desperate to get out of his current predicament.

The only question was: what kind of help did he want?

Or rather, what was he willing to offer?

Or, what price was he willing to pay?

Truman... was just the middleman!

"So, the President needs to show the public that he values the Asian theater just as much as Europe, and that... he has personally done a lot," Pierre said in a steady tone. In fact, when he was orchestrating all this, he had considered how the butterfly effect might impact Roosevelt.

Would this affect his re-election?

Actually, it didn't matter.

In history, Roosevelt was elected by a narrow margin, and Dewey... was more than just a supporting character.

That's why Roosevelt was so nervous—after all, this was his fourth term!

Would the American people accept it?

Roosevelt was anxious now! He was worried that this incident might affect his re-election!

So he had to buy himself some insurance!

And where was that insurance?

It was with me!

That's why he had Truman come find me!

Everything was going according to plan, even...

As part of the plan, even Truman himself didn't know everything—he was just another cog in the wheel!

That's the advantage of standing on the shoulders of giants in history!

Truman couldn't help but freeze, looking at Pierre in astonishment.

"You know all of this?"

Pierre glanced at Truman calmly, smiled without saying a word, looking as if he was thoroughly enjoying himself.

"The weapons," Truman said.

"The President would like you to tell the public that those weapons were handed over to you under his authorization by General Clark, commander of the Italian Fifth Army. The captured German supplies were then shipped to China by your shipping company—as a personal donation, of course."

As he finished speaking, Truman fixed his gaze on Pierre.

Pierre didn't respond either, silently taking a sip of tea.

That unexpected batch of weapons had brought about so many changes.

Lately, because of those weapons, he had become a famous patriotic tycoon—and, naturally, a fat sheep in the eyes of many.

Almost everyone wanted to get something from him.

Money, or benefits.

But what they would never know was that from the moment he decided to donate those weapons back to China, he had already started playing his cards.

In this house of cards, where would the ultimate trump card be played?

It would be played on Luo Quezi!

Luo Quezi would never have imagined that he had been set up months ago!

And now, Luo Quezi had come knocking as well!

Just as planned, he needed to use that batch of weapons to respond to the public's doubts.

In fact, Pierre didn't care much about the empty fame that came with those weapons. After all, it was just an empty title.

But he needed Roosevelt's favor.

Business, after all!

There's always a deal to be made.

"With such a statement, there will still be questions from the public. For example, why were they captured weapons? And why the secrecy?"

"That's very simple," Truman explained.

He took out a folder from his desk and continued, "These photos were taken by photographers on the front lines."

Pierre took the folder and saw the soldiers in the photos cheering.

After that, Truman looked at Pierre.

"What do you think?"

---

After all that work, the credit goes to the leaders!

The intelligence was cracked by the Americans.

The weapons were provided by the Americans.

Even the transport ships were probably arranged by the Allies!

As for the Italian pilots, that must have been the President's stroke of genius.

Yes, everything was thanks to President Roosevelt's foresight and masterful planning.

President Roosevelt's calculations were truly shrewd!

Brilliant, absolutely brilliant!

Facing Truman's eager expression, Pierre remained calm, holding a cigar between his fingers, crossing his legs leisurely, quietly contemplating man and society, man and the world, war and peace…

All nonsense—the real question was the benefits.

What could he actually gain from this?

He had been plotting for so long, moving each piece step by step, all for this moment. If they wanted to take it, they'd have to offer something in return!

The atmosphere in the study shifted into a peculiar silence—one man deep in thought, the other anxious.

In fact, the mastermind behind all of this was none other than Truman. As Roosevelt's running mate and future Vice President, he needed to help Roosevelt through this crisis. In his view, this was the optimal solution.

Of course, after he suggested it, even Roosevelt and the others were stunned.

Everyone gave him a thumbs up and praised, "Captain Truman, you're brilliant."

But the problem was… they still had to convince the person involved!

So naturally, the responsibility fell to Truman, leading to this private dinner.

"This is a good thing," Truman emphasized, then said to Pierre:

"If you agree, there will definitely be all sorts of benefits for you. The President will surely reward you—such as with matters in North Borneo."

He kept it vague, without specifying what the rewards would be, but one thing was certain: in the game of politicians, there would definitely be returns. That's the rule of the game in Washington.

This was exactly why Pierre had gone to such lengths to orchestrate everything.

"With the President's support, none of these problems will be problems anymore…"

Seeing Pierre lost in thought, Truman couldn't help but feel delighted, the corners of his mouth lifting.

To have the President of the United States owe you a favor!

Such an opportunity was rare—something not everyone could get.

Without Truman's suggestion, this matter would never have fallen to Pierre; no one would have even thought of him.

Truman looked at Pierre's expression, feeling that he understood his good intentions, and was quite satisfied.

Although, admittedly, this favor was rather costly.

Of course, Pierre knew full well that this was an opportunity—a chance to have the President of the United States owe him a favor, something that didn't come often.

Wasn't that the reason he had orchestrated all of this?

But having just one president owe you isn't enough.

"Harry."

Pierre spoke.

"I don't care what he can offer. What matters is that this must benefit you."

That's how favors work!

It's best if both presidents owe you at the same time—that's the ideal scenario. Besides, that crippled old Roosevelt only has about a year left to live. The favor he owes? It's too short-lived.

It's best if he pays it back now!

It's still better to have the man in front of me owe me instead!

That's a favor worth nearly a decade!

That's almost two five-year plans!

"Pierre…"

Truman was taken aback at first, but quickly understood what the other meant. He nodded seriously and said,

"Thank you."

After that, the two of them chatted for a while longer, discussing topics of mutual interest—in reality, negotiating for benefits. After all, a favor is a favor, but reality is reality.

A favor worth hundreds of millions of dollars?

That's not something you get just by asking—it always comes at a price.

"All right, Pierre, next we can discuss some issues we both care about, how to ensure your interests."

"Of course. I think, first of all, I need…"

The two of them negotiated for nearly an hour, hammering out what demands should be made while the opportunity lasted. Then, Pierre got up to take his leave.

As he was heading out, he heard a beautiful melody. Walking over, he found Lautray playing the piano. Compared to her earlier nervousness, she was clearly much more relaxed now, her face radiant with a charming smile.

Watching the girl at the piano, Truman smiled and said,

"Pierre, Lautray is a girl with a lot of Eastern charm."

"I know."

Standing at the edge of the living room, he waited until the piece was finished. Amid applause from Truman and his wife, they chatted briefly before saying their goodbyes.

When Truman walked Pierre to his car, he shook his hand solemnly and said,

"Pierre, my friend, I will always be on your side."

This was a promise between friends.

In response, Pierre smiled and said,

"Harry, just like you said, we're friends!"

Friends!

With more friends, the road is easier to travel!

"You said dinner—was it at Truman's?"

After getting in the car, Lautray gave the man beside her a rather resentful look.

"That's right."

Pierre replied.

"It was just an ordinary dinner…"

"Ordinary, so ordinary…"

Lautray couldn't help but roll her eyes.

Having dinner with the President, and you call that ordinary… Sure, very ordinary.

"Is this kind of 'ordinary' dinner something kids from ordinary families like us get to attend?"

Her words left Pierre a bit helpless. In truth, inviting her had been a spur-of-the-moment decision.

Seeing him fall silent, Lautray thought for a moment and said,

"I just mean, for an occasion like this, I should at least have been able to prepare—at the very least, dress more formally. After all, it's the Vice President's home."

He wasn't Vice President yet, but he definitely would be in the future.

"Mm, that was my oversight."

Pierre nodded. It really was his oversight. At the time, he hadn't thought that much—he just needed someone to accompany him.

It could have been either Lautray or Trellaw.

"Your piano playing is excellent. You must have started young."

"Yes, my mother taught me when I was little. When I came to study in America, my relatives even hired a music teacher for me."

Lautray's answer made Pierre mutter inwardly.

Is this really a kid from an 'ordinary' family…

But just how "ordinary" her family was, Pierre didn't really care at the moment. His mind was occupied with the matters he'd just discussed with Truman in the study.

The credit could all go to the leader. What was left was the question of benefits.

How much benefit would he get from all this?

With his eyes closed, Pierre's fingers tapped lightly on his knee as he repeatedly weighed the pros and cons in his mind.

In truth, he hadn't lost anything at all.

It looked like he'd given the credit to the crippled Roosevelt, but in reality, the benefits he'd gained far exceeded his expectations.

First of all, for the upper echelons of every country, they would now know just how close he was to the President. He could even act as a "presidential proxy" to handle certain matters that official channels found inconvenient.

This kind of status might not seem like much, but in reality, it was a tiger's skin—a banner to wave, even if he did nothing else.

With this "tiger skin," on the issue of North Borneo, even if Qiu Pangzi needed something from the Americans, no matter how unwilling he was, he'd have to put up with it.

It could even be expected that before long, the British would come knocking to discuss the future of North Borneo. Unlike before, when he was powerless, now he had a big flag to wave.

Of course, that was just the benefit of reputation. Besides that, there was an even greater advantage.

Thinking of this, Pierre couldn't help but feel delighted, the corners of his mouth curling up nearly seventy degrees...

The girl driving stole a glance at him out of the corner of her eye, thinking—

He…

Why are you so happy? Did you find some money?

The previous chapter was swallowed up and is still under review. The third round of recommendations starts tomorrow—keep following the book! White shoes!

##

Did you find some money?

The answer is yes.

The next morning, in the Oval Office of the White House, after listening to Truman's report—

Roosevelt couldn't help but feel delighted, the corners of his mouth lifting in a smile.

"Harry, I didn't expect you to resolve this matter so quickly."

Having been tormented by Dewey's relentless attacks, Roosevelt had been feeling miserable, but now, at last, he could breathe a sigh of relief.

With presidential foresight, he planned to use captured German materiel to strengthen China's military power, orchestrating victory on the faraway Chinese battlefield!

Of course, this also helped distinguish himself from the Pentagon bureaucrats who only cared about Europe.

Marshall… let him worry about the main responsibilities!

Let General Marshall bear the brunt of the criticism.

Once this news got out, it would surely turn public opinion around. After all, Americans loved these kinds of stories with a touch of legend.

If that's what they liked, then tell it to them.

"Mr. President, as I said before, Pierre is a very generous man."

As soon as Truman finished speaking, Harry Hopkins chimed in.

"Harry, he is indeed generous, but in return for his generosity, what does he want from us?"

As the President's advisor, not only was he the chairman of the War Production Board, but he was also effectively the second most powerful man in the White House—sometimes even called the "Shadow President." He knew very well that there was no such thing as pure generosity in this world.

"Mr. Hopkins, the most important thing is that his help can get us through the current crisis."

Truman did not answer Hopkins' question directly, but continued,

"Mr. President, right now we need to give everyone a perfect story."

Roosevelt nodded, signaling for Truman to go on.

"Mr. President, the core of this story is that we are doing everything possible to help China. Because the Chinese army imported a large number of German weapons before the war, we are now shipping captured German weapons from North Africa to China through Pierre, and thus the Chinese have achieved victory on the battlefield. The question is—what next?"

Truman looked at the President.

"And then?"

Roosevelt pondered,

"Harry, are you saying we need to increase aid to China?"

"Senator, we've already planned to provide no less than $1.5 billion in aid to China this year."

As chairman of the War Production Board, responsible for allocating war materiel to Allied forces around the world, Hopkins' tone was tinged with displeasure.

He too had come under fire during this controversy. Some even called him a "Soviet agent" because he allocated large amounts of supplies to "the Russians, who had not declared war on Japan and were still selling oil and minerals to them," instead of to China, which was actually fighting the Japanese.

What made him even more uncomfortable was that, in order to answer outside criticism, he had to divert supplies originally intended for the Soviets and allocate them to China instead. Every time he thought about this, it felt like his heart was bleeding!

Indeed, for Hopkins, nothing was more important than aiding the Soviet Union. He had even advised the President: "Not only do we need the Soviet Union as a powerful ally to defeat Germany, but we will ultimately need them as an ally to defeat Japan. And finally, we will need the Soviets as our true friends and clients in the postwar world."

Under his leadership, China received extremely limited supplies, partly due to his own selfish interests—he needed the Soviets as allies against Japan, not China. He didn't want to fully support China and let them become the ones to defeat Japan.

In his plans… China was never really a consideration. Even in General Marshall's plans, there was only one core idea: to use the least amount of supplies to tie down the Japanese in China, not to help China defeat Japan.

They never intended to truly aid China from the very beginning!

"Mr. Hopkins, plans are just plans. What the public needs to see is action."

Truman retorted directly.

"We need to take further action to show the world that we are sparing no effort in fighting Japan."

"Yes, Harry, the Senator is right. We need to take some action."

Compared to everything else, the election was most important. Roosevelt turned to Truman and said,

"Do you have any suggestions?"

"Continue handing over captured German weapons to the Chinese, just as we did before."

His suggestion made both Roosevelt and Hopkins pause in surprise, then begin to calculate in their minds.

The former understood that this was a "continuation of the plan"—telling Americans: we are still vigorously supporting China, just in a different way. As for the latter, he immediately realized this was a good thing—he wouldn't have to divert supplies intended for the Soviets to China anymore.

"It seems this is a good option. After all, what China needs is weapons, not necessarily any particular kind of weapon…"

After nodding in agreement, Roosevelt frowned slightly and said,

"It seems we haven't captured that many German weapons."

"Yes, Mr. President, we—

Only a few German weapons had been captured in North Africa. But this is just the beginning—this is our response to the outside world."

Truman looked at the President as he spoke. Although he was Roosevelt's running mate, he had no idea that the "Operation Overlord" landings in France were already in the implementation stage. Roosevelt, however, was well aware that soon, with the Allied landings, they would capture large quantities of German weapons.

"With this response, the outside world will see our support for China, and we won't even have to pay much—just a small amount for repairs and transportation," Truman said in a relaxed tone.

"Of course, that's exactly what he wants. He hopes that when the Allies counterattack the European continent in the future, he can help the Allies gather up the captured weapons and use his ships to transport them to China."

This was just one part of Pierre's overall plan.

What he needed was to be able to follow the Allied forces as they landed on the European continent, collecting materials along the way. But his goal was far more than just gathering captured German weapons and shipping them to China. He wanted to use this opportunity to reach into Germany and recruit as much talent as possible from various fields.

The so-called "assistance" was nothing more than a pretext.

Of course, he could have waited until the war was over to collect German talent, but by then, he would have faced competition from both the US and the Soviet Union. The US launched "Operation Paperclip" in 1946 to scoop up German talent, while the Soviets were even more direct and brutal, simply grabbing people and taking them to Russia, whether they were willing or not. The British and French were also secretly recruiting German experts.

In short, every country was doing everything possible to acquire Germany's intellectual resources.

In this situation, if you wanted to recruit talent and make use of Germany's intellectual resources, you had to act first—get ahead of the others before they moved. But how could you enter the war zone? And how could you get people out?

Collecting captured German weapons and sending them to China was the perfect cover.

With this disguise, his people could openly enter the war zone, wearing American military uniforms, riding in jeeps, accompanying the US Army all the way to Berlin, and then transporting both materials and personnel out of Europe.

This was Pierre's own "Operation Paperclip." However, to carry out this plan, he absolutely needed cooperation from the American side. If he succeeded, he could absorb all of Germany's talent for himself...

Tomorrow is the third round of recommendations—please keep reading! Don't just put this on your shelf, it's ready to go... I'm begging for your continued support!

---

"Oh, so that's how it is," Roosevelt said without hesitation.

"That's absolutely no problem. Just coordinate with the military, and I don't think Ike would mind someone helping him solve a few problems."

So it was just about following behind the Allied forces and picking up scraps!

Thinking of the upcoming "Operation Overlord"...

Once the plan succeeded, they would certainly capture a huge amount of supplies. As for all that German scrap metal, the military had no real interest in it—at most, they'd ship some back for testing. If someone was willing to haul all that junk away, it would actually save the military some trouble.

As for the cost of collection and transportation, it would definitely be much cheaper than producing new equipment.

After agreeing readily, Roosevelt smiled and asked, "Does he have any other requests?"

As a politician, Roosevelt knew very well that such a small request couldn't possibly be worth several hundred million dollars in reputation. The other party's true demands must go further. But with demands, there was no need to worry—after all, the exchange of interests is mutual, and that's also a guarantee for both sides.

"Transport ships," Truman said, looking at the President. "He hopes the US government can provide 50 Liberty ships to the North Borneo Shipping Company under the Lend-Lease Act."

Instantly, the Oval Office fell silent. The smile on Roosevelt's face slowly disappeared, and his brow furrowed.

After Truman made that suggestion, he had immediately sent people to investigate Pierre: originally from Lile, he fled to Indochina to escape the war, then went back to France, but was stranded there due to the conflict, and only escaped to Britain last year. After that, his life seemed to take off—he bought up several companies, including North Borneo Company, at low prices and became a supplier to the Pentagon. Among all his companies, North Borneo Company was the most special.

Roosevelt's frown wasn't because 50 Liberty ships were worth a hundred million dollars, but because of what it signified.

"Sir, North Borneo Company is a British chartered company with administrative powers. If we provide merchant ships to it under the Lend-Lease Act, we are, in effect, indirectly acknowledging his control over North Borneo. This will certainly provoke Churchill's displeasure," Hopkins reminded from the side.

The Oval Office.

The air conditioner hummed, the cool air pleasant, but the mood in the room was unsettled.

"So, he wants to provide merchant ships to the North Borneo Shipping Company, not the North Borneo Company itself."

In reality, everyone knew this was just wordplay. As long as merchant ships were provided under the Lend-Lease Act, it was a clear statement of America's position—recognizing the North Borneo Company and, by extension, his ownership of it.

Roosevelt's brow furrowed even tighter.

In fact, he knew that this matter would definitely require paying a certain price...

…but he never expected that what the man was after was actually a colony.

Would this affect relations with Britain?

It would certainly arouse Churchill's displeasure.

As Roosevelt pondered the possible consequences in his mind, he realized he was caught in a dilemma.

He even subconsciously wanted to refuse, or perhaps find some other way to offer greater compensation.

However…

Roosevelt stared at Truman, thinking it over.

"Harry, do you think we should agree to his terms?"

"Among the recipients of the Lend-Lease Act, there are both French and British colonies, Mr. President. No matter what we give them now, it won't affect Britain's or France's postwar policies toward their colonies."

Roosevelt glanced up at Truman, understanding his meaning, but then turned his gaze to Hopkins.

"Mr. President, I think Prime Minister Churchill will understand, especially at a time like this."

By "a time like this," he meant Operation Overlord. The operation was already in the implementation stage, and at such a critical moment, Churchill would not let anything jeopardize it.

North Borneo… was just a patch of tropical rainforest far away in Asia.

Roosevelt fell silent for a moment.

The office was unusually quiet.

Then he waved his hand and smiled.

"He really is an excellent negotiator—he knows how to propose the right terms at the right time. Harry, if you have the chance, invite him to the White House as a guest."

As the President's proxy, how could he not visit the White House?

Everything that followed was simple enough. Arranged by the White House, Pierre gave an interview, during which he revealed the inside story of the arms donation—it had been a covert operation orchestrated by the President.

The President.

A secret operation.

These words alone were enough to catch the public's attention. When several major newspapers covered the interview, their reporters naturally "dug up" even more details through various channels.

Stories emerged about intelligence agencies intercepting Japanese military communications, about the President circumventing bureaucracy by using a "fake friend" to covertly provide large quantities of arms to China under the guise of a donation, and even the Italian pilots were credited to the President's far-sightedness.

In short, contrary to what the public had believed, the President had not been idle—he had done a great deal, only much of it was unknown to the outside world.

With careful planning and packaging, the rumor of "Europe first, ignoring the Japanese" collapsed on its own, and Roosevelt weathered the crisis with ease.

As the President's proxy, Pierre naturally appeared at the White House reception, chatting amiably with Roosevelt. Of course, it was all a show—a performance for outsiders.

Pierre, as a participant, understood this well, but the other guests at the reception did not. The imperial uncle, who expressed his gratitude to the President, certainly didn't know, nor did the British ambassador, who even approached Pierre to say he hoped to discuss North Borneo with him at an appropriate time. He also indicated that the Colonial Office considered Li's acquisition of North Borneo to be in accordance with British law.

This was the power of "the tiger's skin"—Britain had acknowledged his control over North Borneo. The result was within Pierre expectations, because of the timing—now it was May, and the Anglo-Americans would launch Operation Overlord next month. At this point, Churchill's greatest fear was any unexpected complication.

He would never let a North Borneo company jeopardize his grand plan to retake continental Europe. When first formulating his plan, Pierre had already counted Churchill in, just as he had with Roosevelt—one wanted to win a fourth term, the other to launch the counterattack on Europe!

Timing… the timing was perfect!

After chatting with the British ambassador for a while, the Russian ambassador came over, so the former excused himself, leaving space for them. But there was little common ground, and only polite greetings were exchanged.

At the White House banquet, Pierre was certainly not the main character—the real star was Roosevelt, sitting in his wheelchair, surrounded by admirers, with Truman quietly standing in a corner, unnoticed.

Who would have thought that the real winner would be someone else?

Thinking of this, Pierre glanced at Truman and smiled slightly. This man was the true winner.

As for himself, all he needed was to stand with the victors—that was enough.

But for now, the real winner was still Roosevelt. With this thought, wine glass in hand, Pierre walked over to Roosevelt. As Roosevelt greeted him with a broad smile, Pierre quietly asked:

"Mr. President, do you want to bomb Tokyo? Right now!"