Chapter 451 Who said I was just an ordinary capitalist

Hearing this, Mr. Zachley Ward was inevitably shocked. He had hidden this matter very deeply, whether it was from his ex-wife or his mother.

Or maybe the colleagues who spend the whole day with you don’t know about this matter, or the huge gambling debts you owe outside.

It has expanded to an unimaginable extent, so he took on this seemingly nonsensical job.

After all, for him now, as long as he can make money, everything is not a problem.

As for others, it is even more impossible to imagine that an English gentleman who goes in and out of the City of London every day and drives a Lexus luxury car is actually a gambler who borrows money from loan sharks.

This is not surprising at all, just like the joke Americans often make about Europe: the three most painful things in life.

That is to eat food prepared by British chefs, employ French workers to do the work, and find a German comedian to tell you jokes.

Corresponding to these three most painful things, Europe also has three top enjoyments, namely eating French cuisine, visiting German brothels, and gambling in England.

As a country where even the time of the Prime Minister's withdrawal from the election and resignation can be gambled, beneath the world-renowned gentlemanly surface.

They were just a group of gamblers, but even so, he still thought he had hidden it very well and there were no flaws.

He just didn't expect that such a secret that had been rotten in his heart would be discovered by the young man in front of him.

This made him look at Carl with suspicion.

"It seems that sometimes, the arguments of some conspiracy theorists are not completely groundless. You unique humans do have different methods."

"You saw through my brain memory, right?"

"Legliminy?" Hearing this, Carl turned his head slightly, with a smile on his face, and spoke with some disdain.

"This kind of magic does exist, but I never use it on other people. It's not that I'm not interested in the secrets in their hearts."

"First, it's troublesome. Second, I'm afraid of seeing something that's offensive to the eyes. Everyone has secrets. Real people are always ugly and unbearable to look at."

"So I usually trust cold data and the analysis of professionals, the one who introduced you to the loan shark, Mr. Smith."

"And the Councillor Rosen who forced you to help launder money, is already practicing freestyle swimming in the Thames."

"Another one is that you should be able to see news about him a few days before the Prime Minister's election vote."

"What???" Mr. Zachary Ward's face was full of disbelief, and there was a hint of fear in his eyes.

He involuntarily took several steps back, putting some distance between himself and the handsome young man in front of him.

"You shouldn't know this. Who among those hooligans on the streets of London has the guts to kill Mr. Smith?"

"You know, many drug lords in South America and many warlords in Africa have been making their dirty money through Mr. Smith."

“It goes into the City of London, and then it’s transferred from here to accounts in continental Europe, and then it’s returned here, and finally it’s transferred to the United States.”

"Do you know how much trouble killing him would leave you in? Even if you were a guest of the President of the United States, you might not be able to guarantee your own safety."

"You have cut off the financial resources of many ruthless people at once."

"Oh, really?" Carl turned around, his expression looking very proud. He opened his hands, squinted his eyes and said with a smile.

"This is really a troublesome question, but use your clever little brain to think about it. A financial gangster who doesn't even have his own gang organization."

"How can he remain in the same position as the boss of the money laundering industry in the entire European continent, with the support of those members of the House of Commons and senior civil servants you often see?"

“Can it have this effect?”

Mr. Zachary Ward was a little confused by this question. This was also the first time he thought about this question.

Ever since he first came into contact with the usury industry in London through someone else's introduction, he had been hearing legends about Mr. Smith.

Those street thugs even gave him a resounding nickname, "The King of Black Gold", due to those exaggerated threats and preachings.

He had never thought about why the other party had such a great power. It all started when he could not pay off his gambling debts and loan sharking interest and met Mr. Smith.

The other party took out one sky-high money laundering task after another from his exaggerated shirt pocket.

Various prominent figures, such as the chairman of the Premier League, members of the House of Commons, and senior bureaucrats in the European Community.

These tasks and the huge amounts of black money thrown in front of me completely made me lose the ability to think.

He had never thought about the question that the young man just asked, and as a top-notch human being, when he began to think about this problem seriously.

He got the answer almost instantly, but the answer was so shocking that he was a little afraid to say it out loud for a moment.

Just as he was hesitating, he heard a crisp metallic sound coming from the side. It was the sound of an expensive Dupont lighter being opened.

The crisp metallic sound can instantly attract the attention of ordinary people when they suddenly hear it.

He was of course no exception. The moment he turned his head, he only saw a young man holding a cigarette diagonally with a wicked smile on his lips.

Against the backdrop of the orange flames, those luxurious sapphire eyes were also filled with an indescribable ruffian spirit.

With just such a simple action of lighting a cigarette, the young man who had just become the guest of honor of the President and the boss of the world's largest technology company began to grow.

In an instant, he turned into a fearless gangster roaming the streets of New York.

Moreover, the boy seemed to be deliberately silent. He just looked at him with a smile, and his teasing eyes seemed to be saying.

"Speak out, tell the answer you have already got in your heart."

The feeling of being manipulated and seen through was so unpleasant that he could no longer hold back and speak.

"Is that you? Based on all the information we have now, you are the only one who meets this requirement."

"But I still can't believe those South American drug lords."

"They are helping me make drugs, marijuana leaves and coca leaves, which my company will turn into various painkillers such as fentanyl."

"And the drugs that are about to be launched, which have absolutely no side effects. They help me work, so of course they have to listen to me."

"What about the warlords in Africa?"

"That's even simpler. If it weren't for my airline, in less than a week the war between them would be machine guns, tanks, and artillery fire at each other."

"They started to fight each other because I sold them weapons. Otherwise, how could they have fought for so long?"

"Then..." Mr. Zachary Ward seemed a little unconvinced, but he swallowed the words back.

Because he is a smart man, the other party can give this explanation for the first two items, as for those greedy members of the House of Commons and senior civil servants.

There is nothing more to say. The other party has already demonstrated his strength, otherwise how would he know my secret.