Chapter 332: The EU Can’t Achieve Success

Milo originally planned to stay in the UK for about a month, then go to France, then to Africa, and then return to the United States via the Middle East and Asia.

But plans did not change quickly. When he was preparing to go to Scotland with Irene and her two close friends to see the ancient castles.

A piece of news suddenly came from France, forcing him to leave England early and head for Paris.

Paris in early summer.

The surface of the Seine River reflects the neatly arranged classical buildings on both sides. The branches stretched out in the morning mist cut the sky into colorful glaze. The ochre-red and bright-yellow interwoven sycamore leaves trembled in the morning breeze. The low-hanging clouds almost brushed against the spire of Notre Dame.

The whole city was immersed in the golden morning light, as if God had overturned his palette.

In the motorcade leaving Charles de Gaulle Airport, Milo rested his forehead against the bulletproof glass.

The gilded canopy and relief columns passed by formed a flowing band of light on his retina, and he couldn't help but tap the window sill: "It still looks bright and beautiful on the outside."

But this city, like the country, is rapidly darkening.

The blackening here is not the kind of blackening in those cartoons and novels.

Rather, it refers to the fact that the number of black people in this country is increasing rapidly.

Paris in particular is quickly becoming a thief's happy land...

Although many old Parisians were heartbroken by this, as an American, Milo welcomed it.

He has always disliked the pretentiousness of the French people, of course, those beauties wrapped in Chanel suits are a different matter.

These Gauls always have an innate sense of superiority, just like the cheese platter that is always served last on their table.

Our German neighbors on the other side of the Rhine often say that making friends with the French is always like being a guest in someone else's living room.

The so-called French freedom is nothing more than self-willedness packaged as art.

Milo remembered one midnight when the woman who was said to have the most influence on the French government panted in his arms and complained in a nasal voice:

Americans are a cultural desert, British gentlemen hide their lace stockings, Germans only know how to read the instructions for sex, and as for Italian idiots and Spanish lunatics,

Her fingertips, dyed with red, brushed across his chest. "We are the only ones who know how to waltz on the edge of a knife."

This reminded him of the bronze rooster statue in the Louvre, which always looked down upon everyone with its bright red comb raised.

So he put out his cigar in the champagne glass, and with his violent attack, turned the proud Parisian rose into a dewy iris.

But now this dewy iris disrupted his schedule, and he had to come to Paris in advance.

Pasteur Institute, in the corridor of the affiliated Obstetrics and Gynecology Hospital.

Milo saw the owner of the Elysee Palace sitting on a bench with a livid face.

Beside him, the hostess of the Elysee Palace accompanied him.

And the first daughter of the Elysee Palace, and the husband of the first daughter...

"Good morning, Bernadette, Jacques, and Lawrence, and of course, you, Huck. Good morning, everyone."

Jacques, the owner of the Elysee Palace, looked at him with a sullen face, "Claude is not in good condition. She fell and is bleeding. Her water broke early, and she has been in the operating room for half an hour."

"I know. That's why I interrupted my schedule and stopped going to the Windsor family banquet in the afternoon and came to Paris so early."

Milo slid the cross on his chest, and the three saints were present. "God will definitely protect Claude. She is such a good girl. She will be fine. Isn't it? I think everyone thinks so."

Seeing him like this, Jacques René Chirac took a deep, deep breath.

The owner of the Elysee Palace knew very well that this somewhat annoying American in front of him was not just his daughter's boyfriend or the father of the child in her belly.

He is also one of the most powerful people in the United States.

Even the gentleman in the White House would be respectful in his presence.

In other words, it was the same for me. Moreover, France's national strength was not as strong as it used to be. I had many areas to cooperate with him, and France also needed him in some areas.

So… Commander Sirak endured his dissatisfaction with his beloved daughter’s feelings being toyed with—and she was quite happy about it.

"It's just as you said. The doctor said it's nothing serious, but the baby might be born prematurely." Chirac said softly.

"Thirty-two weeks, I think?"

Milo looked worried. “Fortunately, most of the organs of a newborn baby of this age have already developed. It’s premature, so let it be. May God and the Virgin Mary bless him and his mother, and everything will be fine.”

"Mr Blackburn appears to be familiar with pregnant women and newborns."

"Of course. I have a lot of experience."

Jacques's words above are actually full of irony.

I didn't expect this guy to be so shameless and act as if it was all right.

Shaking his head, Chirac looked back at his family members who were looking at him worriedly.

"You guys just watch here. I need to talk to this guy. When the doctor comes out, or Claude comes out, come straight to us."

After explaining his wife, eldest daughter, and son-in-law, Chirac looked at Milo and asked, "Do you mind talking to me?"

"Of course. After all, this is the Pasteur Hospital, the best hospital in France and Paris, and one of the best hospitals in Europe and the world. I have nothing to worry about."

Milo smiled.

The American and the French then found a quiet place in the hospital, in the obstetrics and gynecology department, to talk.

This was not difficult for the owner of the Elysee Palace. The Obstetrics and Gynecology Department of Pasteur Hospital directly cleared out an area used for children to do nebulization as a place for the two to talk.

"…your people are heading south from Zambia and are entering the Democratic Republic of the Congo. What do you want to do?"

"Someone gave them a lot of money, enough money. Enough for them to help infiltrate the Democratic Republic of Congo, bring their employers to power, or meet their employers' reasonable demands."

"Haha, what conditions did those black people give you?"

"An offer I couldn't refuse."

"You have to know that Africa is not Africa for Africans. Africa is Africa for Europeans! Although it is not our traditional sphere of influence, the Belgians have a good relationship with us. If they ask for help, we will not sit idly by."

Milo raised his eyebrows when he heard the owner of the Elysee Palace say this.

I thought that the old Europeans were still as shameless as ever.

What does it mean that Africa is not Africa for Africans, but Europe for Europeans?

Did the Africans agree? Did the United States agree? Among the five big gangsters, only you two little gangsters think so, right? But when it comes to the Belgians, Congo (DRC) was indeed their colony.

At the Berlin Conference in 1885, the area was designated as the "private mining area" of King Leopold II of Belgium and was called the Congo Free State. In 1908, it was taken over by the Belgian government and changed to Belgian Congo. It became independent on June 30, 1960.

Speaking of the great kindness the Belgians have shown to this place, to be honest, even the Americans' treatment of the Indians is not as outrageous as theirs.

Let’s put it this way, the most Milo’s ancestors and colleagues could do was scalp the original owner and kill him and drive him away.

What about Leopold II and his people? They simply cut off one of the hands of the local natives, and then forced these one-handed slaves to work...

Yes, before going to work, one hand is cut off so that the workers only have one hand left to cut the rubber.

The reason for doing this is that if a black worker with only one hand left still wants to escape, the probability of him surviving by escaping into the forest is zero.

As for the other things like burning, killing, looting, etc., there is no need to mention them at all.

It is said that before the reign of Leopold II, there were about 20 million people in this land.

After 1945, only about 10 million were left.

In sixty years, the population of twenty million has decreased by ten million, not counting the number of children who have grown in these sixty years.

Even from an American perspective, Belgium is really not human.

The first person in history to stand up and expose the Belgians was also American journalist Williams, and later American diplomat Roger also intervened.

Although Americans do this not entirely for justice, it is mainly to allow the United States to have its own voice on the black soil.

But judging by the deeds rather than the actions, and judging by the actions rather than the heart, at least in this world Americans can stand on the moral high ground and despise the Belgians.

At the very least, even if we take a step back, the slave owners in the South were actually very good to the black slaves.

If you don’t believe me, ask the Belgians if they would feed Congolese people watermelon and fried chicken, or give them medical treatment if they are sick?

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Black slaves were the wealth of plantation owners in the southern United States and a valuable tool of production.

But the people of the Democratic Republic of the Congo are not like that. Leopold II regarded them as native leeks, the kind that will continue to grow on their own even after being cut.

"So, you are warning me now?"

Milo smiled: "Is this what Paris meant, or is it what Brussels thought? Or when did the owner of the Elysee Palace become the Duke of Brussels in addition to the Grand Duke of Andorra?"

From Milo's tone, Chirac knew he didn't hear what he said.

What would annoy the owner of the Elysee Palace would be if he really didn't listen.

I really can't accomplish what the Belgians asked me to do.

But think about it, billions of dollars, or perhaps even more, are at stake.

The Belgian thought that if he just talked to him, he would give up.

This in itself is unrealistic.

Americans are typical businessmen who consider profits in everything they do.

Shaking his head, Chirac said: "I am just passing on a message. Someone in Brussels wants to see you and hopes that your people will not enter the Democratic Republic of the Congo."

"Then you can reply for me now."

"My attitude is - sorry, I can't do it. What's the famous saying? What you can't get on the battlefield, you can't get at the negotiation table. How many divisions do the Belgians have? Just let them send it over."

Chirac shook his head again and decided not to bother with the matter anymore.

Anyway, something big is going to happen in the Democratic Republic of the Congo.

Part of France's foreign mercenary corps has already cooperated with Milo's PMC company.

If it really works, France will also benefit from it. And similar things happen in Africa every year, if not every day.

That place is still filled with blood and fire even after thirty years.

"You want Claude to work in Brussels?"

Chirac changed the subject.

"Claude, is he telling you this now?"

"She told me a long time ago that you wanted to go there. To be honest, I think your suggestion is not bad. There happens to be an opportunity now, but I think it's better for you to push it, the success rate will be higher."

"What do you mean?"

"I intend to appoint her as French health minister, but this is just a stepping stone. I hope she can use this to enter the European Commission and participate in the next election."

"How exactly should we do this?"

"The current chairman of the committee was originally Jacques Sant. But he just resigned due to corruption and mismanagement. Now it is Manuel Marin Gonzalez of the bullfighting kingdom who is acting as interim head until a new election victory emerges."

Milo was surprised: "You mean, let Claude run in the election?"

"Yes." Chirac nodded.

This election selects the highest executive of the EU's administrative department, and the term of office is generally five years.

If Claude Chirac could come to power, it would be of great help to both France and the Chirac family itself.

"Isn't he too young?" Milo looked at the greedy Frenchman. "Claude is not even thirty-five years old."

"How do you know if you don't try? And don't you think this government and the EU are young? And I believe you and Washington should also hope that this will happen, right?"

Milo was silenced by his words.

Because what Claude's father said was absolutely right.

If Claude Chirac could really come to power, Washington would probably be very happy.

Because Claude Chirac was closely involved with Milo Blackburn, who was notorious for his scandals, and his involvement had been reported in many newspapers in Europe and the United States.

Now she is pregnant and has given birth to a child. You can tell who the child belongs to at a glance.

It can be said that she has a strong American influence.

Let such a person who has both French support and American origin manage the EU executive department.

Those people in the White House and the Foreign Affairs Committee are so laughing that their faces are about to burst, okay?

From this point we can see that old Europe will never achieve anything.

Each member only wants to gain benefits from the alliance, even if doing so will harm the integrity of the alliance.

Even Chirac, who is considered an excellent French leader, does this...

Seriously, I wonder if the European Union could have existed that long in this parallel universe.

It was purely Russia and the rise of China that took away the attraction.

Without these two things, it is estimated that within two or three years, due to the division between these people and the Americans, they would have to break up.

Just as Milo was about to agree to give it a try.

Suddenly, Jacques' eldest son-in-law Hake ran in excitedly, "It's born! Jacques, Milo! Claude has given birth, and the baby and she are both healthy!"

Almost without saying a word, Milo and Chirac rushed out at the same time.

When they arrived outside the operating room.

Claude Chirac, who was lying on the operating table, was pushed out by the doctors and nurses.

Beside her, a newborn baby wrapped in swaddling clothes cried loudly.

(End of this chapter)