"You guys are really noisy!" Although Jiang Hai's voice was not loud, it carried clearly across the crowd, instantly silencing the previously loud chatter. Everyone's eyes turned toward the stage as Jiang Hai nonchalantly reached up and flicked his ears.
"Look, you've shaken out my earwax. Your noise levels are already disturbing people."
His casual tone caused many to exchange puzzled glances. What exactly did he mean by that?
For a moment, all eyes shifted to Augustine Wilson, the town leader.
"Jiang Hai, what do you mean by this? Are you looking down on everyone in our town? Today, you must back down!" Augustine's voice wavered slightly despite his attempt to appear firm. He hesitated, then stood, addressing Jiang Hai with forced composure—it was clear he was trying to fulfill his duty as a loyal official.
"Oh, back down? Why should I?" Jiang Hai replied calmly, meeting Augustine's gaze.
"This... this is for the development of the town. You have to give in," Augustine insisted, trying to regain control.
Jiang Hai smiled faintly. "Sorry, I think you're asking the wrong question." Without another word, he grabbed a chair and sat down in front of everyone, brandishing a large knife. His expression darkened as he looked at the crowd.
"What I said earlier is true. Whether you admit it or not, I control this town's economy."
The townsfolk below erupted into murmurs and whispers. How dare Jiang Hai say such a thing?
Even the officials behind Jiang Hai looked surprised. Was he intentionally alienating the people by declaring this so openly? What was he trying to accomplish?
Ignoring them, Jiang Hai continued, "I'm not here to negotiate. I'm not here to consult. You've got it all wrong. Winthrop's biggest industry is tourism—and without me, there wouldn't be any tourism at all."
His words hit like a bucket of ice water. The townspeople exchanged stunned looks. They wanted Jiang Hai to compromise, so the town could have both tourism and factories. But hearing him speak so bluntly left them speechless.
Jiang Hai controlled not only the villas, shops, and shooting range but also the flow of tourists.
"The town's main tax revenue comes from my Tenglong Manor. I don't think I need to say more. Yes, I control this town. So why don't you come and try to please me? And you're still spouting nonsense. I think you want to live in the past," he said, raising his legs casually and looking down on them with disdain.
Many hearts sank, and their eyes sharpened.
"Winthrop belongs to its people, and you can't just point fingers and take control," Augustine shouted, stepping forward anxiously.
"No matter what you say—whether you consider me a Winthrop local or not—I'm still the richest man here. Everything here is mine. Remember that: it's all mine. We're not equals in this cooperation. I can give you things or take them away. If I want the tourism industry to fail, it will fail. If I want the ranch gone, it will be gone. It's that simple." Jiang Hai pointed at the crowd and spoke each word with deadly clarity. The aura of a true villain thrilled him to his core.
The townspeople below looked like oppressed workers. They wanted to argue but couldn't deny the truth in his words.
"You will leave Winthrop! Don't be ridiculous—do you think we don't know how much money you make here each year? You won't leave. You're sacrificing the people's interests for your own gain. You're a dictator!" Augustine made a final, desperate attempt, but when he met Jiang Hai's gaze, it was as if Jiang Hai was looking at a fool.
"The manor is mine, the routes are mine, the tourists are mine. And you come here to call me a dictator? Fine, this is dictatorship. If you're not happy, stand up. Tos, don't hide—you were yelling loudly earlier, right? I'll do you a favor: I'm taking back your shop. You have one day to move out. By the morning after tomorrow, I want that commercial street empty."
At Jiang Hai's words, a middle-aged man in the crowd sank to the ground in shock. The people around him instinctively stepped aside, distancing themselves as if to sever ties.
His shop was a well-known one on the commercial street, pulling in over a thousand dollars a day. Jiang Hai charged only three thousand a month in rent—about a hundred dollars a day—which was quite reasonable. When the rent and utilities were deducted, he netted over nine hundred dollars daily—nearly thirty thousand a month. Over the past two months, he had made sixty to seventy thousand dollars. And now Jiang Hai was taking it back.
He had hoped to catch some opportunity in the chaos, but Jiang Hai didn't play by anyone's rules.
"You can't do this! You're depriving Winthrop's people of their right to freedom!" Augustine panicked, realizing Jiang Hai openly admitted he was a dictator driven purely by profit. He controlled the town—and wasn't afraid to flaunt it.
"But if you want human rights and freedom, fine. If you want to keep things as they are, I'll never allow a factory in this town. Winthrop belongs to you. Mayor Wallis can hold a referendum anytime. You can recruit factories as much as you want. But if factories come, I'll leave. I can build a Winthrop anywhere in a month. I have the money. I'll pay six hundred million dollars in taxes next year. I don't need you. But without me..." Jiang Hai didn't finish the sentence, just looked calmly at the crowd.
Many townsfolk who supported him gave thumbs-up signs. They understood clearly now: a thousand ants tied together couldn't negotiate with a man.
Those who shouted loudly before now lowered their heads under Jiang Hai's gaze—not out of shame, but fear. Many depended on the tourism industry and didn't want to lose their jobs like Tos. They knew if Jiang Hai wished it, their hotels would never fill, their cruise ships would be empty, their shops cleared, and their restaurants deserted.
Jiang Hai controlled the economy because the town was disorganized. He could take Winthrop back to the pre-liberation era overnight if he wanted.
After Jiang Hai's ruthless words, the Americans became strangely obedient.
No one could resist money. Jiang Hai had never bullied anyone; he was polite to everyone. But sometimes, his politeness was twisted into a weapon against him.
"You're threatening the townspeople! Don't be fooled by his sweet words—he's a tyrant, a dictator..." Augustine shouted, desperate to sway the crowd.
But those who had been fired up were now only a few troublemakers. The serious townsfolk were silent and resigned.
Seeing no support, Augustine and the others panicked, staring up at Jiang Hai.
Jiang Hai wore a mocking smile, as if scoffing at their desperation.
"I'm a petty man. I hope today's incident is the first and last. Let me be clear: if any factory enters Winthrop, I'm gone. But if there are no factories, I'll help develop tourism. I've tentatively decided to build a water park here after March next year. Details will be discussed later."
Seeing the townsfolk's submission, Jiang Hai offered them a carrot after the stick. He had plenty of money now—and more coming after next year's harvest.
Money was in the bank. Besides paying US taxes, he needed to find ways to spend it.
"Damn!" Augustine gritted his teeth, furious that Jiang Hai had shattered his carefully laid plans with a few words. But his outburst caught Jiang Hai's attention.
"By the way, I said I'm petty. I don't want any store to serve these guys, or they'll be against me. Consider this your warning." Jiang Hai pointed sharply at Augustine and the others still lingering nearby.
(To be continued.)