109: All villains? No, they're all Oscar winners!

1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, Washington, D.C.

Beneath the White House, in the secret meeting room of the Temporary Wartime Supreme Committee.

Captain Evan Cross pushed the door open and entered.

He walked straight to the massive oval conference table, pulled a miniature recording device from his jacket pocket, and tossed it casually onto the mahogany surface.

"Click."

The crisp sound of impact echoed through the deathly silent room.

The current President sat at the head of the table.

Secretary of Defense Mark Thompson sat to his left, hands clasped beneath his chin.

And Franklin Delano Roosevelt sat in his wheelchair at the other end of the long table, head down as he flipped through a thick file.

Cross pressed the play button.

"...We will establish a foundation for you, with an initial capital of five billion dollars..."

"...You can use it for anything you want..."

"...Let him point his gun at our enemies, not at our own people..."

The voice of that former CIA Deputy Director, now a Wall Street lobbyist, came clearly through the speaker.

The recording finished playing.

Cross turned off the device and stood tall once more.

"This is their 'loyalty'."

This single sentence needed no further embellishment.

Thump!

Mark Thompson slammed his fist onto the table.

"Treason! This is blatant treason!"

"They are trying to bribe a national hero! During wartime! Under the Special Wartime Act, I could have the Military Police arrest them all right now and send them to a court-martial!"

The President's face was pale.

He pulled out a handkerchief to wipe the sweat from his forehead, his voice trembling slightly.

"Mark, calm down... That's the 'Patriotic Businessmen's Alliance.' They control forty percent of this country's liquid capital and a third of the votes in the Senate..."

"Arrest them? Do you want the dollar to become scrap paper by tomorrow morning?"

Thompson turned his head and stared intently at the President.

"Then we just watch as they buy this country with their money?"

The President was at a loss for words and could only look helplessly toward the man at the other end of the table.

Roosevelt did not look up.

He continued to flip through the file, the sound of rustling paper particularly jarring amidst the argument.

It was a detailed report on America's current corporate structures and tax loopholes.

Ten minutes passed.

No one dared to interrupt him.

Until he finished the last page and closed the folder.

"Five billion dollars."

Roosevelt took off his glasses and pulled out a piece of flannel to slowly wipe them.

"A truly generous figure."

His tone was flat, revealing no emotion.

"When I was pushing the new deal back then, if they had been willing to put up half that amount to support national construction, we wouldn't have had to survive on debt."

The President swallowed hard.

"Excellency, what should we do? Should we... compromise?"

"Compromise?"

Roosevelt put his glasses back on, his gaze sweeping over everyone present.

"Why should we compromise?"

"They have money, which is good. The country is short on money right now."

Roosevelt pushed the file to the center of the table.

He clasped his hands over his knees.

"I want you to initiate a plan."

"The name will be—'Patriotic Enterprise Certification'."

The President and Thompson exchanged a look, both seeing the confusion in the other's eyes.

"Certification?"

"Exactly."

"Issue an announcement. Any American enterprise, as long as they publicly declare support for the 'new deal' and proactively pay back the 'Wealth Fairness Tax' for the past ten years according to the new tax rates I've set..."

"...the government will award them the 'Patriotic Enterprise' medal of certification."

The President was stunned.

"This... this is just an empty title. How could those capitalists possibly pull money out of their pockets for a medal? They'd even try to cheat God!"

Roosevelt smiled.

"Of course, it's not just a medal."

"Add a clause to this certification plan: Effective immediately, for all infrastructure projects, defense orders, energy procurement, and future 'Holy Grail Technology' conversion projects led by the federal government..."

"...only companies that have obtained the 'Patriotic Enterprise Certification' will have first-priority bidding and partnership rights."

"As for those without certification..."

Roosevelt paused for a moment.

"On the grounds of national security, place them on a 'Potential Risk List,' suspend all government-level cooperation, and subject them to indefinite tax and compliance audits."

Mark Thompson sucked in a cold breath.

This was a ruthless masterstroke.

It was designed to drive those capitalists into a corner, forcing them to stick their own necks into the noose.

America's economic structure dictated that whether it was the military-industrial complex, large infrastructure groups, or even Silicon Valley tech giants, their core profit sources directly or indirectly relied on government orders and policy favoritism.

Once that line was cut.

It was equivalent to a suspended death sentence.

"But..." the President was still hesitating, "what if they unite to boycott it? If no companies apply..."

"They won't."

Roosevelt interrupted him.

"Capital has no motherland and no allies; it is loyal only to profit."

"When the first sheep kneels to eat the grass, the rest will scramble to kneel, fearing that if they're too slow, they won't even get to eat the roots."

After speaking, Roosevelt looked at Cross, who had been standing silently to the side.

"Captain."

"Sir," Cross stepped forward.

"As for the man who tried to bribe you, pay him no mind. Let him watch his allies betray him one by one; that will be his greatest punishment."

Roosevelt turned his wheelchair, turning his back to the group, and left them with a casual remark.

"Meeting adjourned."

...The next morning, at exactly eight o'clock.

The White House Press Briefing Room.

Flashbulbs lit the room as bright as day.

The current President stood at the podium. Although he had heavy bags under his eyes, his spirit was unusually high.

Facing the cameras of hundreds of media outlets from around the world, he formally read out the "Executive Order Establishing the National Strategic Partnership and Patriotic Enterprise Certification System."

There was no lengthy preamble.

The core consisted of only two points:

Paying up is patriotism.

Patriotism gets you a seat at the table.

As soon as the news broke, Wall Street's opening index plummeted instantly.

Traders were selling frantically, and analysts were screaming hysterically.

Everyone thought this was just wishful thinking by the government, a doomed attempt at extortion.

Until nine-fifteen.

A breaking news flash forcibly cut through all financial channel broadcasts.

[Breaking: General Dynamics has issued a statement fully supporting the 'Patriotic Enterprise Certification' plan and announced it will pay a total of $12 billion in 'Social Responsibility Taxes' for the past ten years within the next three days.]

This single piece of news was like a depth charge dropped into a fish pond.

Before Wall Street could even react.

Nine-thirty.

[Breaking: The CEO of Raytheon Technologies held an emergency press conference, showcasing their first 'Patriotic Enterprise' medal and announcing a new round of 'Defense System' R&D intentions with the government totaling $80 billion.]

The dominoes had fallen.

The once monolithic capital alliance collapsed in an instant.

If paying 12 billion could get you 800 billion in orders.

Even a primary school student could do that math.

Free markets and resisting tyranny meant nothing in the face of 800 billion dollars in orders... Manhattan, a private club.

The members of the "Patriotic Businessmen's Alliance," who had been drinking and celebrating here three days ago, vowing to "stand together," were now in a state of chaos.

That former CIA Deputy Director who had tried to bribe Cross was now surrounded by a group of angry investors.

"Is this the 'unbreakable alliance' you talked about?!"

A fund manager threw his phone in the man's face.

"Just now! Boeing submitted their application too! The military-industrial sector is all in the green, and only we uncertified ones are crashing!"

"I've already received three calls from major shareholders withdrawing their investment! They're asking me why I'm not being patriotic!"

"I'm going to apply too! Right now!"

"You wouldn't dare! We signed an agreement!"

"To hell with your agreement! I want to make money! I don't want to be on the government's blacklist!"

Some began calling the White House.

Others began packing documents, preparing to flee.

The former CIA Deputy Director slumped in his chair, watching his "allies" in their various states of disgrace, his hands and feet cold.

He knew the game was over.

Roosevelt hadn't even deployed a single soldier.

He had used nothing but profit to make them tear each other apart... Three days later.

The final straw that broke the camel's back finally fell.

The Silicon Valley giant and one of the world's most valuable tech companies—the "Microsol" Group—grandly announced its participation in the "Patriotic Enterprise Certification" plan.

To show their sincerity and to snatch a piece of the pie from those military-industrial companies.

Their CEO personally flew to Washington, bringing not only checks worth tens of billions of dollars.

But also a "token of allegiance."

It was a 40-page internal investigation report and a high-definition, digitally restored audio recording.

The content of the recording was the entire process of the former CIA Deputy Director trying to bribe Evan Cross with 5 billion dollars at that high-end restaurant three days ago.

It even included the source of that 5 billion—it had been illegally diverted from several large pension funds.

The White House did not hesitate for a second.

Half an hour after receiving this "gift."

The President's office "accidentally" left these materials on a table during a public hearing.

A sharp-eyed reporter from the Washington Post snapped a photo.

The world was in an uproar.

[Shocking Scandal! Wall Street Attempted to Bribe a National Hero!]

[Embezzling Pensions for Bribery! This is the True Face of 'Patriotic Businessmen'!]

[Treason! Public Calls for Those Involved to be Sent to the Electric Chair!]

Public opinion completely exploded.

Angry Americans took to the streets, surrounding the investment bank buildings that hadn't had time to "kneel" yet.

They waved the Stars and Stripes, chanting the names of Roosevelt and Cross, smashing every piece of glass in sight.

That afternoon.

The New York Stock Exchange closed early.

The stock prices of the financial giants involved in the bribery plummeted by 90%, directly triggering delisting mechanisms.

Meanwhile, the stock prices of General Dynamics and the Microsol Group, which had already received their "Patriotic Certification," hit their daily upward limits against the market trend.

Inside the White House office.

Roosevelt watched the boiling crowds outside the window, gently turning the ring on his thumb.

He didn't need to kill anyone.

He only needed to set the rules.

Then he could watch as these greedy beasts tore themselves apart for a bone named "profit."

"Look."

He said to Cross behind him.

"This is called putting power in a cage."

"It's just that this cage is made of money."