Becoming an Emperor Starting from the World of The Wandering Earth

As a seasoned veteran who had weathered the information explosion of the internet in his previous life, he had seen plenty of classic argumentative opening moves like "putting aside the facts and reflecting on yourself," or "even if," and "using a diversionary tactic to remedy the situation."

Betty's combination of the University of Tokyo threat theory and the strategy of concentrating resources to accomplish major tasks sounds righteous and righteous, but in essence it is nothing more than another form of magical attack.

You talk about global strategy and resource concentration, and I'll talk about community stability.

You present macro data, and I'll talk about the specific people under the bridge.

You accuse me of inefficiency, I'll just point out specific issues affecting people's lives.

This rhetoric, combined with his charismatic aura, was incredibly effective.

Of course, relying solely on so-called people's livelihood issues will not sway those lawmakers, after all, they live in villas, not under bridges.

Murphy then changed the subject: "However, Ms. Warren is right. In order to deal with this global crisis, I suggest that the Texas government further coordinate and plan its existing energy finances and private enterprises, and adjust the tax rates to support the response to this global crisis."

Upon hearing this, the councilors below immediately exchanged knowing smiles.

Even Irving and his colleagues' eyes lit up, and they turned their heads to whisper to each other.

His words seemed to indicate his strong approval of Murphy's suggestion.

Paying taxes is great!

Dona, Turner!

They rejected the proposal in exchange for a slight adjustment to the tax rate, which is not very reasonable.

As for who gets the money after it's been paid, that's beyond the public's knowledge.

At the end of his speech, Murphy gave a slight bow, and enthusiastic applause erupted instantly.

As Murphy predicted, the final result was exactly what he expected: with Irving and the others supporting him, plus Murphy's charismatic aura and tax proposals.

The number of votes against Betty Warren's proposal to "reduce the size of the private sector" quickly exceeded two-thirds.

The proposal was successfully blocked.

As the meeting came to a close, Murphy did not leave immediately, but instead walked quickly toward Irving, Sofia, and Thomas Christian, who were preparing to leave.

"Uncle Owen, Aunt Sophia, Uncle Thomas," Murphy said with a polite smile, his voice not loud but loud enough for them to hear, "thank you all for your support today. I've prepared a small banquet at Oak Estate tonight. The dishes will be simple, but I have a few bottles of fine wine from my collection. I would like to invite you all to attend; it's just a small token of my appreciation."

Irving stopped and looked at Murphy, a kind smile spreading across his face. "Oak Estate? I remember your father used to like to discuss things there. Well, there are some details we do need to talk about. See you tonight."

Sofia and Thomas nodded, clearly accepting the invitation.

Meanwhile, at the other exit of the Parliament building, Betty Warren, who had just left, was immediately surrounded by several reporters.

"Ms. Warren, what are your thoughts on Mr. Murphy of Motech Energy's rebuttal of your proposal today? He said that private enterprises are indispensable in ensuring community stability and employment. What do you think?!" A reporter practically held a recording device in front of her.

Betty Warren paused. "My opinion? My opinion is that at this critical moment for humanity's survival, any statement that prioritizes local interests or even individual heroism over overall strategic efficiency is shortsighted and selfish!"

"Some people only care about giving small favors to attract attention, but they ignore the long-term planning for the development of the country and even humanity as a whole, and the absolute necessity of resource concentration! Sorry, I have other things to do."

After saying that, she ignored the reporters' questions, tightened her coat collar, hurriedly stepped into a black official car waiting in the rain, and quickly drove away.

"Uncle Owen, it's a deal then, see you tonight!"

"Okay, we'll definitely go then."

The more Irving looked at Murphy, the more satisfied he became.

Capable and knows when to advance and retreat, but unfortunately, he has yellow skin. Simple mutual benefit is fine, but deeper cooperation won't work.

Otherwise, he really would have liked to take him in as his godson.

After exchanging a few more pleasantries, Murphy took his leave.

However, as soon as he came out of the main entrance, a large group of reporters who had heard the news immediately surrounded him.

"Mr. Murphy, why are you so opposed to Ms. Warren's integration proposal? Do you believe that the right to survival of private enterprises is more important than the national energy strategy?"

"Mr. Murphy, are the community case studies you mentioned in your speech supported by data, or are they merely an emotional appeal?"

"Some people believe you are exploiting public sympathy for your own benefit. What is your response to this?"

Murphy was already used to these tricky questions. Just as he was about to answer, his gaze suddenly swept across the gaps in the crowd and caught sight of a corner of the steps of the Capitol Building not far away.

A little girl, about seven or eight years old, dressed in thin, tattered clothes, was huddled beside the damp, cold stone steps, clutching an empty can in her arms. Her face was blue from the cold, and she stared blankly at the swirling rain and the crowd.

Murphy paused, unable to finish his sentence.

The next second, he did something that surprised all the reporters.

Murphy pushed through the crowd and walked toward the little girl.

The reporters were taken aback for a moment, then followed him out of curiosity, pointing their cameras at him.

Ignoring the reporters around him, Murphy walked straight to the little girl and knelt down.

Amidst the astonished gazes of the crowd, he unbuttoned his suit jacket and gently draped it over the little girl's shoulders.

Then, he took the umbrella from the staff member next to him and put it in the little girl's hand.

"Here, so you don't get wet in the rain."

At this moment, a middle-aged woman dressed in shabby clothes and looking panicked squeezed in from the periphery of the crowd.

Seeing the little girl's coat and umbrella, and then Murphy kneeling in front of her, she paused for a moment, then bowed repeatedly, saying, "Th-thank you, sir! Thank you! Amy, please thank this kind gentleman!"

The little girl glanced timidly at Murphy and whispered, "Th-thank you, sir."

Murphy smiled at the girl, touched her wet hair, then took a business card from his inner pocket and handed it to the mother.

"Hello madam, I'm Murphy, the owner of Murphy Energy. I don't know what trouble you're having, but it's okay. Take this business card to the South Side of Houston. There's one of our company's sites there. Give this business card to the receptionist, and they'll arrange a hot meal for you."

"If you are able, you can take the children to the southern suburbs of Houston. There is a relief center near our factory there. Although there isn't much, there is hot bean soup, compressed dry rations, and some donated used clothing. At least... it will keep you warm."

As he spoke, Murphy pointed to the little girl's suit, "Keep this too."

The mother took the business card with trembling hands. After reading the words on it, tears welled up in her eyes instantly. She held the card tightly and kept thanking the man.

"Thank you, Mr. Murphy! God bless you! Thank you! Thank you!"

After saying that, the mother immediately pulled her daughter up, thanked her profusely, squeezed through the crowd, and rushed to the station that Murphy had mentioned.