When Governor Morgan heard Ribbs say he would give him money, a trace of barely perceptible contempt flashed across his face.
He shook his head slowly, his voice low and thick with the peculiar viscosity of a politician, each word weaving an invisible web. "Money? Speaker Ribbs, you underestimate me. I, Morgan, am not short of money. Even if you piled the profits from the entire Blue Roof Project in front of me... it would still be far less important than you..."
"Me?" Reeves' eyes sharpened, alarm bells ringing in his heart. He vaguely guessed that Morgan's plan was bigger than he imagined, but he didn't expect it to be directed at him directly. "Mr. Governor, what do you mean by this?"
Morgan took a step forward, and the luxurious lights in the office seemed to focus on his face full of political ambition: "What I want is for you, Ribs, to become 'mine.'"
His gaze was hawk-like, brooking no argument. "Be completely and unreservedly on my side. Not just in Illinois. You have to understand, my goal is more than just governorship."
His voice lowered even more, as if he were sharing a secret destined to change history, yet it carried an irresistible power. "This country needs a strong voice to lead it again. The presidency... is my destination!"
president? !
Ribs' heart felt like it was being gripped by an icy hand.
He looked at Morgan's smiling face, which was burning with desire for power, and instantly understood the true weight of this "partnership".
This was not a simple reciprocity at all; it was a ticket to the presidency, and Morgan demanded that Ribbs must be the hardest-working rower!
This road was a road of no return. Once he boarded the governor's ship, which led to the highest power, if Morgan failed, he, as a "direct descendant", would be shattered to pieces.
Even if Morgan succeeds, he will always be controlled by him. The so-called "partner" is just a nice name for a puppet. Chicago will become Morgan's ATM and vote bank for his presidential campaign.
Ribbs's mind raced.
The scarlet eyes under the skull masks of the Crip Gang seemed to be still burning, the blood-soaked gauze wrapped around Ao Guanhai's legs, the huge fireball of the crashed police helicopter... these images suddenly pushed away the fear of risk.
His biggest enemy right now is not Morgan, but Thorne and Stanley, the Crips boss who dared to challenge his bottom line!
Without the iron fist of the National Guard, how can we crush those scum? How can we avenge Ao Guanhai and our fallen brothers?
The bigger the waves, the more expensive the fish!
An almost crazy idea began to grow in his mind - to take advantage of the situation!
Morgan's power, especially his authority to mobilize the state's violent machinery, is his sharpest weapon now.
Use this power to eliminate the Crips, intimidate Thorne, and completely solidify his foundation in Chicago! As for the future...if Morgan wants to use him as a pawn? That depends on whether this pawn is willing!
Once he has complete control over Chicago and has a strong army and horses, he may be able to find an opportunity to turn the tables in this big game.
Morgan had ambition, and so did Libus have even greater ambitions. This path was risky, but the rewards were staggeringly high, making it a gamble worth taking!
In a flash, thousands of thoughts have been made up.
The shock and hesitation that Reeves deliberately expressed on his face quickly faded away, replaced by an almost fanatical "determination" ignited by a grand goal.
"You want to run for president..." Reeves took a deep breath and his eyes became extremely determined.
"Mr. Governor, it's my honor to serve you on your journey to the top! Chicago is your fortress! I, Reeves, and all the resources I control in Chicago—business elites, political partners, media channels... and those who can truly 'get things done' and keep this city 'alive'—will serve you unreservedly from now on! Your goal is Chicago's goal! Your voice is the voice of Chicago that must resound throughout the country!"
He stretched out his hand and took the initiative to shake Morgan's hand tightly with great strength, appearing to be extremely "sincere".
Morgan smiled with satisfaction, a smile that revealed his undisguised desire for control and the swelling of his ambitions. He felt he had a firm grasp on this rising star in Chicago.
"Rest assured, my friend," Morgan shook his hand firmly, turned around, and signed his name on the transfer order with decisive movements. "The dust that has hindered our cause... will be swept away today. Our journey together... begins."
"The National Guard's heavy artillery and armored vehicles will appear on Milwaukee Street tomorrow! The Crips are just a bunch of ants for the Guard to crush..."
…
Seven hours later, with Governor Morgan's transfer order.
A torrent of steel from the Illinois National Guard crushed the silence on its way to Chicago.
On the eve of dawn, the deepest darkness was torn apart by the roar of armored vehicles, and armed helicopters flew low over Chicago like steel falcons.
Stanley's home base for show of force—the Milwaukee Avenue area—became the center of the storm.
The blockade was built layer by layer at a breathtaking speed, and the muzzles of the heavy machine guns set up on the barricades looked down coldly at the block that had been dominated by the "Skulls" just a few hours ago.
Those Crip Gang members who were still drunkenly celebrating their victory, cursing the Black Rabbit Group around the remaining fire, and smoking marijuana a few hours ago had never seen such a scene.
Amid the sharp sirens and the roar of engines, the face under the skull mask instantly lost its color when he saw such a large number of military and police officers appear.
"WTF?! National Guard?!"
“Run! Run! Run!!!”
…
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