I am a necromancer, and I absolutely love America.

Chapter 172 Payne's Epic Victory

"Mr. Li, your goods have been shipped. My nephew carried them over himself. His flight is the day after tomorrow night, with a layover in Shanghai. He'll arrive in New York around 18 PM Eastern Time. Could you please send someone to pick him up at the airport? My nephew's English is very poor, and it's his first time going to New York. I'm not comfortable with having someone else go."

"OK, have your nephew contact me on WeChat when he gets there."

Richard was in a good mood; the diamond was finally arriving.

Richard closed WeChat and casually browsed his TikTok following list, discovering that Alex's profile hadn't had any new content for five days.

Richard double-checked the date.

It was indeed five days.

Richard recalled that Alex had said he broadcast every two days without fail.

It's been five days now.

Richard started to worry. Had this kid really offended someone and gotten himself punished?

While running his shady business as a body collector, Alex also worked as a live streamer, promoting his "kill line" online, which alienated a group of study abroad agencies and some international students.

Countless high-ranking officials were on the verge of losing their guard. Richard often saw people going head-to-head with Alex, trying to open boxes using various methods.

Alex's personal safety is indeed a serious concern.

He picked up his phone and called ALEX.

Alex's voice came through, still in the same tone: "Hey? Richard? You actually called me on your own initiative? Am I about to get angry?"

Richard asked directly, "You haven't updated for five days, is there a problem?"

Alex laughed smugly: "You still watch my livestream? Do you have a crush on me?"

"Get lost!" Richard cursed, then teased, "Are you alright? Lots of people online are saying they're going to mess with you. Don't actually get messed with."

Alex didn't joke around; there was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone.

Richard frowned: "Holy crap? You really got messed with?"

Alex's voice rang out again, a beat lower than before: "It's nothing. I've just been a bit busy lately. I'll broadcast as soon as I'm done."

Richard immediately sensed he was bluffing: "Has something really happened?"

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone.

Richard waited a while before Alex finally spoke, a little nervously saying, "I think someone's looking for me. A couple of days ago, there was this guy in an ICE hat wandering around the neighborhood with a gun, asking everyone if they'd seen a fat guy named Alex."

"ICE has already come knocking on our door?" Richard immediately replied, "Then what are we waiting for? Let's get back home right away."

Alex smiled wryly: "I'm leaving first too. I can't go back now—I can't take that much leave. If I really take two or three weeks off, the professor will hang me on the wall. Besides, I can earn more than two thousand dollars a month from live streaming. If I stop, I won't be able to pick it up again."

Americans don't celebrate the Lunar New Year, so Alex couldn't find a suitable reason to do so.

As the professor's right-hand man, I can only go through fire and water for him; how could I leave him so easily?

You just leave like that? Do you even want your diploma anymore?

Richard was speechless: "Forget about that. If things get bad, get out of there. Your life is worth more than two thousand dollars."

"Don't worry, I'm fast. If something really happens, I'll be out of there." Alex laughed, but his laughter sounded unconvincing, as if he was trying to convince himself.

Richard had no choice but to remind him again, "If things get bad, run first. Nothing else matters. Save your life first. If anything happens, contact me and I can help you figure something out."

"Okay, okay. I'm hanging up now, I have to get up early for class tomorrow. Thanks!" Alex laughed as he hung up the phone.

Richard is just a high school student; what kind of solutions could he come up with?

He appreciated the good intentions, though.

Alex drew back the curtains and looked downstairs.

No one was watching me.

Thank goodness.

I can't scare myself like that.

Brian looked terrible when he returned from the federal parliament.

He hung up his coat, sat down in the chair, picked up the document on the table, opened the first page, looked at it for a few seconds, then, feeling a little uneasy, closed it.

Doug was busy organizing documents, waiting for Brian to speak.

After a dozen seconds, Brian coldly said, "The subsidy bill has been delayed again. The fourth time!"

As Doug organized the documents, he asked, "Still Theodore?"

"That bastard! He found twelve people and scheduled their speaking time for three days. Fifteen minutes each. No two topics were the same." Brian paused, as if mentally reviewing Theodore's speaking schedule: "On the first day, three people cited audit reports, saying there were duplicate claims for police subsidies. On the second day, four people examined budget details, questioning the basis for appropriations. On the third day, five people cited lawsuits about police brutality in poor communities and deficit data to argue that no new federal spending should be added under the current fiscal situation."

FXXK! Brian was furious: "There was no procedural violation. Everyone spoke within the legal debate time limit. It's just that everyone combined blocked the voting window. By the time it was my turn to speak, I didn't have a single second left."

"That's a very common way to play." Doug shrugged.

But it's very effective.

In the federal parliament, there are countless ways to prevent a bill from passing, and lengthy speeches to delay the process are among the most effective and invincible methods.

When others play within the rules, no one can find fault with them.

Brian squinted, picking at his fingernails, his eyes cold and stern.

Doug suddenly alerted him: "Theodore's account has posted a video!"

Brian immediately turned on his phone.

On the screen, Theodore sits in front of a dark gray background, wearing a well-tailored suit, holding a document in his hand and patting the camera twice.

Brian felt as if he had been slapped in the face.

Theodore smiled and said, "A congressman who offends everyone can't even pass his own bills. Some people think they can offend everyone and still win. As it turns out, that doesn't work..."

'

Brian watched the entire video, then watched it again, and scoffed, "I hate how he talks like a winner, like he's got everything under control. It's always easy to cause trouble; don't think you've won!"

Brian was clearly a bit upset; Theodore had blocked a subsidy bill of very low value, which greatly annoyed him. Doug glanced at his schedule: "Payne's security bill is being voted on in the city council today. What do you think..."

"9

"He'll definitely pass it today," Brian said coldly. "As a city council speaker, if he can't even pass a bill without interference, he might as well resign and go home. The key is the specific vote count..."

'

Doug did not refute this.

The New York City Council has a total of 51 members; Payne only needs 26 votes to win.

If he gets more than 35 votes, it will be a landslide victory.

If he gets more than 40 votes, it means that Payne still has enormous authority in the city council, and the entire city council is under his authority.

If he gets more than 45 votes, then he can basically treat the city council as Payne's living room and do whatever he wants.

If Payne wins a landslide victory on the security bill, it will be a heavy blow to Brian's Preventive Arrest Act.

This means that it is almost impossible for him to pass the Preventive Arrest through normal means.

"It all depends on the vote."

In the afternoon, Payne's security bill finally went to the city council for a final vote.

Payne sat in his seat with a document in front of him, the last page of which was open, his fingers resting on the table for a long time without moving.

He appeared calm on the surface, but he was actually quite nervous.

He gets very nervous every time his bill goes to vote.

Unlike others, he is the speaker, and bills must not only be passed, but also passed cleanly and efficiently.

Otherwise, they will be questioned and lose influence, which will cause others to lose confidence in them.

Power is a strange thing; it's an ethereal concept built on consensus.

You have power when others believe you have it.

When everyone thinks you're nothing, even if you're still sitting on the speaker's throne, you can hardly move an inch.

Before the vote began, the five members of Congress that Payne had arranged stood up and spoke.

Some people are talking about the potential for improving security in poorer communities.

Some people are discussing the provisions in the bill that take into account the interests of renters.

Some people were more blunt: "As someone who has had reservations about the bill over the past six months, I now choose to stand with the Speaker."

When he said those last words, Killian turned and glanced at Payne.

This is too blatant and too explicit.

Payne did not look up; his gaze remained fixed on the vote counter.

The numbers on the vote counter finally started to jump.

The votes in favor started from single digits and went up, and the hall was so quiet that you could hear the click of the voting buttons.

With each jump, someone would look up and glance at you.

Payne's right pinky was trembling slightly.

Continue flipping through numbers after they exceed 26.

Payne breathed a sigh of relief; the bill had passed, after all.

The number has exceeded 30, keep flipping.

Payne's heart began to pound.

Thirty-seven, forty-one, forty-five!

The scene erupted in uproar.

The final result was: 47 votes in favor, 2 votes against, and 2 abstentions.

Big win!

A resounding victory!

I won!

Payne felt completely refreshed; it was a resounding and exhilarating victory!

The hall was silent for about a second.

Then someone stood up and applauded.

More and more people stood up, first from Payne's side, then spreading to the centrists, and then to the other side.

Nearly half the people in the hall stood up, and the applause lasted for about thirty seconds, with everyone's eyes focused on Payne.

Everyone knows what this vote result means.

47:2, not a majority vote, but an absolute overwhelming support.

Killian was dumbfounded. He had been sitting in the city council for more than a decade and had seen majority votes of 30 to 17 and narrow victories of 25 to 22.

A score of 47:2 will only occur in one situation: when the entire parliament has completely sided with the speaker.

Regardless of party affiliation, even those members of Congress who initially disagreed with the bill chose to stand behind Payne before the vote.

These people are not in favor of the bill; they are bowing to Payne's authority.

Payne remains the king here.

Amid cheers from the crowd, Payne stood up, slowly buttoned his suit jacket, and then turned to look at the first row of the audience.

Sitting there was a sharp-looking black lobbyist named Kieran Newman, dressed in a dark gray business suit. He was an agent for one of Payne's major financial backers and the largest private prison group in New York.

Payne nodded to Kieran-Newman, and Kieran-Newman nodded back. The two were separated by half a hall, and they couldn't suppress their smiles.

A moment later, the Speaker's Office issued a notice for a press conference.

At the press conference, nearly 90% of the city councilors were present, standing in a line behind Payne.

Payne sat in the center of the long table, without saying a word.

He no longer needs to speak.

This resounding victory proves that he remains the undisputed king of the New York City Council.

As the lawmakers took turns speaking, some talked about their expectations for improved public security, while others discussed the level of support from businesses.

After the last member of parliament finished speaking, reporters stood up and pressed Payne on several controversial issues that had been the focus of her criticism over the past two months.

Payne did not answer, and the senator sitting next to him took over for him: "The Speaker has answered all the questions with the vote results."

That evening, the open letter signed by all councilors was pushed to the front page of major news platforms, with all the names listed at the end and the note "signed by 47 city councilors".

Payne forwarded the news to his work account: "Tomorrow morning I will personally submit the bill to Mayor Manchester and request his prompt approval."

After the news of the Payne security bill's passage spread, almost everyone's reaction was the same: Payne had complete control of the New York City Council, and he stood at the pinnacle of New York City.

Yes, after Payne's landmark victory in his political career, the bill has been dubbed the "Payne Security Act," which is a great honor.

That night, the entire city was focused on the same set of numbers.

Killian sat in his office, looking at the news on his phone.

Brian had just taken away his personnel authority at KOM, leaving him with only an empty title of chairman.

After seeing the 47-4 vote result for Payne, he sneered, "Brian's been blocked by the federal government, and the Payne Security Act passed the city council with a landslide victory. Brian's unlimited legal authority is finished too. Hmph! You can mess with me, but don't even think about getting anything out of Payne!"

Theodore was in a meeting with his staff when he saw the news.

He glanced at the notification pop-up in the upper right corner of his phone screen, tapped it to scan the full text, and after reading it, he celebrated to everyone present, saying, "Oh ho! Brian and his bill are finished!"

The failure of two consecutive bills means that Bryan is losing influence in Congress, which is a huge setback.

The live stream has ended, and the screen is frozen on the image of Payne leaving City Hall.

Doug's expression was grave.

The epic 47-2 victory means it is virtually impossible for them to get the Preventive Arrests Act passed by Congress.

Brian didn't look at the screen, but just smiled calmly: "It's always easier to destroy than to pass. Payne spent six months pushing the bill through Parliament; I only need one nail to turn it into his coffin."

"They're dragging me into Parliament, no problem. I've been fighting in Parliament for twenty years, and I know one thing: the real decisive battles never happen at the polls, and I'm really not good at rhetoric."

"Let them laugh. I only need one chance for a right hook."

Doug asked, "If the South Bronx really launches an attack, we'll lose control, and the situation could easily spiral out of control. Isabella will face immense pressure."

"Let them start," Brian said coldly, picking up his phone and calling Menterson.

Everyone has a worthy opponent, and now Payne has one too.

Of course, it's the dearest Mayor Manchester.

Mayor Manteson looked rather grim when he saw the news.

A powerful city council speaker poses a significant threat to the mayor.

He didn't want to see this happen.

The city council has passed the security bill, and according to procedure, the city council speaker will submit the bill to him for approval.

The mayor has thirty days to decide whether to approve or reject.

If agreed, the security bill would take effect immediately, but Manterson did not want to see that happen.

If rejected, the security bill will be returned to the council for a new vote. If it receives more than 34 votes in favor again, the bill can bypass the mayor and be implemented directly.

This was unacceptable to Menterson as well.

Judging from the voting results, it was an epic victory with 47 votes. Even if it is rejected, it will most likely be passed again by a new vote.

If the security bill is implemented directly without Mentorson's knowledge, it will quickly turn into a political disaster for Mentorson.

The bill no longer needs the mayor's approval!

If the vote in parliament fails, the situation won't be much better.

If the council passed the bill with such a high vote, but the mayor rejected it, it would inevitably lead to a public confrontation between the speaker and the mayor.

Payne, that bastard, will definitely issue a statement on behalf of Parliament, accusing Menterson of ignoring public opinion and favoring special interest groups, which may even cause a rift within Parliament.

In retaliation against Manterson, Payne will deliberately obstruct subsequent budget negotiations, land planning, police reform, and welfare bill negotiations.

Payne will deliberately veto the bill championed by Mentorson.

Mantesson will inevitably retaliate by repeatedly using his veto power, leading to a deadlock in municipal governance and potentially halting municipal cooperation.

New York would inevitably descend into chaos, and Mattson could simply surrender in the mayoral election.

FXXK!

Menterson cursed again.

Just then, my phone rang.

It's Brian.

Menterson frowned as he answered the phone, his voice now brimming with confidence: "Brian, it looks like your Infinity Bill is finished."

Brian calmly replied, "Let's be frank. We need to cooperate again. You don't want to see a tyrant in the city council, do you?"

Cell laboratory.

Christina's office.

Richard and Christina stared at the screen together; it was showing a video.

On the back of one of the test subjects' hands, there was a small patch of perfect skin, smooth and clean, unlike an adult's hand, more like a newborn baby's.

"This is the third time!" Christina exclaimed excitedly. "One hundred percent success rate!"

Richard listened patiently to her explanation.

Christina paused the video and showed a comparison image: "We've solved the problem of using the adolescent virus. The specific procedure is to first infect the skin cells of living people with the adolescent virus, and then extract new viruses from these infected cells. We call it the second-generation adolescent virus."

She pointed to the diagram on the screen: "Because the cell source is skin cells, the second-generation virus can only infect skin cells. And..."

"There's an even more wonderful limitation," Christina exclaimed excitedly. "The second-generation youth virus only works on the person who provided the cells." In other words, if the second-generation youth virus extracted from A is injected into B, the virus dies immediately!

"The second-generation 'youth virus' is naturally unable to spread and infect more people! This is an unexpected benefit!"

"Furthermore, the second-generation youth virus can also repair scars," Christina said. "Look at the hands of test subject number 3; it not only makes the skin look younger, but it also repairs old scars. He had a scar on the back of his hand, and now it's completely healed!"

"In a sense, the second-generation youth virus is more like a scar repair technology based on autologous cells, which incidentally restores youthful skin."

Richard asked in surprise, "So, this technology is already ready for practical use?"

Christina nodded: "It seems feasible, but further experiments are needed. However, it's still a long way from commercialization. For example, it's extremely expensive. Each case requires readjusting the culture conditions, virus concentration, and treatment plan according to the specific circumstances of the experimental subject. It's essentially all done by hand, costing over five million US dollars, and that's just the material cost. That doesn't even include labor costs."

"Furthermore, I'm unsure how long it will last or whether there are any long-term risks. In short, more testing is needed now."

"But those major problems were all solved unexpectedly and inexplicably. We were really lucky!"

Richard nodded: "Then let's prepare to conduct more tests."

Regardless, this progress is a huge breakthrough for the immortality project.

FBI agent Brooke, dressed in worn-out clothes to disguise his identity, pushed open the door to the CMCS outpost, and was greeted by a smell of old wood mixed with disinfectant.

There were fourteen or fifteen people standing in the room, mostly elderly, surrounding a young man.

He had seen the young man's photo: Irving Morris, the founder and core figure of CMCS, a former military doctor, and a former OCME employee.

Irving was sitting behind a folding table, examining an elderly man.

He was very thin, with bright eyes that seemed to possess a mysterious radiance. His shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. He looked up at him when he heard the door open.

Brook walked straight toward Irving, without being questioned or watched.

The defenses were extremely weak, practically nonexistent; if someone tried to assassinate him, Irving would be dead for sure.

Brooke thought to himself.

"Who are you?" Owen asked.

Brooke placed the completed form on the table: "Owen, this is Brooke. I applied to be a TK member yesterday, and Andrew approved it. He asked me to come and interview you."

Irving smiled and said, "You sit there and wait a while while I take care of them."

"OK." Brooke, who was eager to observe Irving up close, immediately sat down in the corner and watched quietly.

,