I Have a Mansion in the Post-apocalyptic World

Just two hours after the Syrian government forces withdrew from the front line, Celestial Trade began its offensive on Al Mayadin.

Black-robed militias lurked in the half-destroyed buildings and streets. Their rifles were already loaded, and their fangs were already revealed, but after a long wait, they did not see any sign of an attack.

Just then, they heard cannons being launched from afar.

They didn’t see exactly what they were, because when the dazzling white light bloomed, their vision had already been taken away.

The white phosphorus munitions exploded in the air, and the scattered smoke plumes scattered down from the sky like countless arrows, as if a large fishing net was being weaved over the city.

Buildings, streetlights, highways…

Trees, stones, sand…

Everything that was hit by the phosphorous fire ignited uncontrollably.

The whole city was like purgatory, everything burned.

The highly toxic white smoke made people suffocate, but dying in suffocation seemed to become a distant luxury.

The terrorist in a black robe dropped the rifle in his hand, covered his unrecognizable face. He screamed and rolled on the ground as he desperately tried to put out the flames that burned his face. However, he stopped struggling after a while and only twitched like a knee-jerk reflex.

Not far from him, another terrorist fell silent on his knees. It was impossible to recognize any expression on his scorched face. His mouth was open either because he was confessing or howling.

Some people tried to take off their robes but to no avail.

Most people were only hit by a fireball the size of a thumb. In less than half a minute, they turned into a fireball.

The whole street was full of dead bodies and wails were heard everywhere.

Bagdadi, who had been “dead” many times but fortunately escaped every time, finally welcomed his final destiny. He was on fire, like an imp in hell. He screamed and jumped down from upstairs and landed on the concrete street. Before he died, he was still yelling “I SURRENDER!” “MAKE IT STOP”… or a similar cry for mercy that no one listened to anymore.

The flame finally burned into the dungeon.

Under the face covered by her scattered and messy hair, the girl with amputated limbs finally showed a light of joy in her hopeless eyes.

Before she died, she seemed to see a light.

This long-awaited redemption finally arrived.

…

There was an advantage to hegemony.

That was, no matter what you did, the international community would give you the maximum tolerance.

Although almost everyone knew that the mercenaries active in Syria were backed by Celestial Trade, after the tragedy in Al Mayadin, no one jumped out to condemn Celestial Trade, but aimed at the private military contractors with “corrupt morality” but not subject to international law.

This kind of accusation did not bother Celestial Trade at all.

Jiang Chen, who was far away in North America, was too distracted to pay attention to the situation in the Middle East.

On the third day after the secret meeting was held, Future Bank, under Jiang Chen’s direction, increased its holdings of UA Treasury bonds by 600 billion dollars at a price of 40 billion Xin New dollars. This move undoubtedly eliminated the risk of default by the Trump administration, and finally stopped the dollar from freefalling in the foreign exchange market, and the dollar actually saw a slight rebound.

When the major banks around the world saw Future Bank’s intervention in the market, they all breathed a sigh of relief.

In any case, the holding of UA Treasury bonds by the bank of the victorious country finally gave other banks a reason to continue holding the UA dollar, and it also allowed the discouraged investors to restore some confidence.

Capitalists used these three days to reached an agreement with Celestial Trade. They took advantage of the information asymmetry to quietly move back the assets that were transferred overseas and made a small profit from the rebounding dollar.

For them, it was a small benefit for selling their soul to Celestial Trade.

“All the evidence about Morgan’s crimes has been collected. The Supreme Court will start the trial tomorrow. Do you not want to go see your old opponent?”

In the office on the top floor of the Empire State Building, Jiang Chen met with President Trump.

It was a coincidence that he was about to call Mr. President for a meeting at the Rainbow House, but when he dialed the number, Mr. President was already at the entrance of the Empire State Building.

After they met, Trump enthusiastically expressed gratitude to Celestial Trade for increasing its holdings of the treasury bonds, and then mentioned that Mike Pence, Morgan, John Corning, and others would be tried tomorrow.

“There is nothing to look at. The financial empire he is proud of has been destroyed, and even he himself is in jail,” Jiang Chen smiled lightly, then leaned back against his chair, “It is pointless to see him now.”

“Rockefeller hasn’t be caught yet?”

“He is now on a flight to Australia,” Jiang Chen said with a smile, “The flight has been locked by our satellite, and he will be handcuffed by Interpol when he gets off the plane.”

The extradition treaty between Australia and the UA was still in effect, and it was impossible for Australia to risk the relationship with Celestial Trade to provide asylum for Rockefeller. Even if the latter was holding trillions of dollars in assets, the money had become a hot potato.

“You found him?” Trump glanced at Jiang Chen unexpectedly and smiled. “Would you like to let the Supreme Court postpone the court session and get them for trial after Rockefeller comes back?”

“No,” Jiang Chen shook his head, then looked at Trump while he joked, “What’s more, the earlier the trial, the easier it is for you, isn’t it?”

Trump smiled and said nothing.

In fact, the outcome of the judgment was decided long before the hearing. The federal court would issue astronomical fines for the two suspected of being involved in the murder of the president, bribery, and for a total of more than 20 crimes. Conservatively estimated, the total amount of fines would exceed one trillion dollars, which would set a record.

It was obviously impossible to pay this money with working capital. Even Morgan and Rockefeller together would not be able to generate this much cash. Therefore, all the assets under the two companies would be entrusted to major banks for auction, and the auction money would be returned to the federal treasury. If they could not pay the fine, the rest would be made up in prison terms.

These two financial giants possessed wealth that rivaled nations, and the number of assets they possessed was at least in the trillions range.

With this money, the debt crisis that the Trump administration faced would be also be resolved.

Since the war was started by those people, it was fair for them to foot the bill of this war.

“I actually wanted to see you for something else,” Jiang Chen took out a document from the drawer, threw it on the table, opened it, and pushed it in front of Trump. “All the members in the Earth Defense Alliance will receive a copy, and you can take it back to study.”

“This is…”

When Trump saw the text on the first page of the document, Trump narrowed his eyes slightly, then there was a look of shock on his face.

“The Prospects and Feasibility Report of Himalia Colonialization”

“On April 1st, the ‘Space Colonization Summit’ will be held in Celestial City. I hope you can make time to be there no matter what arrangements you have,” Jiang Chen said slowly while he watched Trump flip through the pages,” I suggest you read it when you go back. There is a lot of information in this report, and there must be some parts that interest you.”

“Are you going to go back in March?” After he put away the document, Trump looked to Jiang Chen.

“Otherwise?” Jiang Chen shrugged and said with a smile, “Everything that should be done is almost done. How long do you expect me to stay here?”

With this document, Trump got up and said goodbye to Jiang Chen.

When Trump left, he only felt that the document in his arms was getting heavier, and even slightly hotter.

After the end of a war, Celestial Trade could start a world-class colonial project. While Trump was amazed at the industrial capability of Celestial Trade, he couldn’t help but feel that something was unusual.

Celestial Trade accelerated its colonial expansion within the solar system, and this time, unexpectedly, it was willing to work together with all the members of the Earth Defense Alliance. Although it was something to be happy about, for some reason, he felt a hint of concern.

Perhaps it was his illusion, but Trump felt that Jiang Chen desired far more…

Jiang Chen watched Mr. President leave, then he leaned back in his chair.

Just when he was about to call home, Ayesha called.

The phone connected, and the other side spoke immediately.

However, the news surprised Jiang Chen.

“Yerif is no longer the crown prince.”