I am a necromancer, and I absolutely love America.

Chapter 236 Alger's Plan

The bakery manager, Reese, smiled obsequiously as he helped Alger open the door, stepping aside to let him go in first, and then waited for Langdon.

"Young Master."

Langdon strolled in lazily, taking a leisurely walk and curiously scanning the interior of the factory.

Huge roasting machines lined up along the production line, their drums rotating at a constant speed, filling the air with the aroma of roasted coffee beans.

The worker was recording something at the control panel, occasionally glancing up at the running machine.

Langdon looked around, then lost interest and turned on his phone again.

Alger frowned even more when he saw his son's expression.

You can't make a wall out of mud, and you can't carve rotten wood!

However, Alger had no other choice. His eldest son, whom he had raised with great care for decades, had just been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer!

His eldest daughter harbors deep resentment towards him because he broke up her early relationship, and she hasn't returned to the United States for over a decade.

The youngest daughter is an artist who hangs out with a bunch of poor boys every day; she's a complete waste of the family.

His grandchildren are all spoiled brats.

That leaves only the youngest son, Langdon.

Although Langdon was a spoiled brat and didn't care much, he was actually quite intelligent. He got into Harvard entirely on his own merits.

(Of course, the Vaughn family's reputation also played a "little" role.)

Damn!

Why did this happen to me?

How many more years can I hold on?

10 years?

Or 5 years?

Is he capable of grooming Langdon into a competent successor?

Will the Vaughn family line end in my hands?

Is God punishing me?

Alger suppressed his anxiety, walked ahead, randomly picked up a roaster, reached into the cooling tray, picked up a few freshly roasted beans, examined them in his palm, smelled them, and then put them down: "Good quality."

Reese said with a pained expression, "Boss, these are premium Huira coffee beans, but our green bean inventory is almost gone. The next batch of green beans is a substitute temporarily sourced from other producing areas. It has a higher acidity, so we need to readjust the roasting profile. We've tried two versions, but it still doesn't meet our expectations. Right now, our production capacity is only 30%. If we could get enough Huira beans, we could run two more machines and at least double our output."

Alger listened quietly, his gaze falling on the row of empty roasters: "Soon. Soon we'll have enough Whira beans."

Rhys was puzzled, but dared not ask anything.

Langdon stood a dozen steps away, playing on his phone, seemingly replying to a message, completely unconcerned about what "Huila" was.

Alger said coldly, "Landon!"

Langdon shuddered; he knew that tone meant his father was truly angry.

He quickly put away his phone and asked with a grin, "Father, what's wrong?"

Alger suppressed his anger and said to the manager, "Rice, tell him about this factory."

"Okay." Rhys was very familiar with all the data.

His family has served the Vaughn family for three generations.

Rhys's grandfather was a senior technician at a coffee bean roasting plant.

Rhys's father became the manager.

Rhys is now a manager.

He grew up in a roasting factory and knows every detail of roasting. He is in charge of the entire Vaughn family's coffee bean roasting business.

Half an hour later, Langdon was finally free and returned to the car with Alger.

The car slowly drove away.

Alger asked, "What is the factory's output?"

The old man is checking my homework! Langdon could only put down his phone and repeat the data he had just heard: "If the green bean processing volume is sufficient, the annual terminal wholesale output value is around 500 million. In reality, due to the lack of high-end raw materials, the current annual output value is only 140 million, with a net profit of around 15 million US dollars."

"Hmm." Alger nodded in satisfaction.

Alger looked directly at his son: "So, do you have any questions?"

Langdon frowned. "A little, you could say that."

"Tell me," Alger said.

Langdon reached out and pressed a button, raising the privacy partition and turning the back of the car into a space where the father and son could talk about confidential matters with peace of mind.

This action pleased Alger even more.

This son does have some brains.

Langdon asked, "Father, you've shown me quite a few things these past two days, and I think I understand your plan now."

"Father is funding the right-wing warlord Nogra in South America. You've been supplying him with a significant amount of heavy weaponry at a loss, presumably to help him seize control of the provinces of Whira and Tolima. These are important production areas for top-quality Colombian Arabica coffee beans, which could supply our roasting plant. But..."

'

"Is it worth it? Even if we run our bakery at full speed, the output value will only be 5 million, and the net profit will not exceed 6000."

"Ten thousand. But the risk is too great. I don't understand why my father would do this."

Alger stated bluntly, "Whera and Tolima coffee beans are in high demand in the North American market. If the beans from those two provinces are exported through our channels, tariffs, transportation, and trade will all be calculated within our framework. We profit from the green bean imports once, and then again from the roasting and processing. Our annual revenue can increase to around $1 million, while we only need to invest about $1000 million in arms each year."

Alger made no attempt to hide his intentions; he had to train Langdon at full speed and had no time for him to figure it out on his own.

"In addition, coffee beans grow at high altitudes, while the low-altitude areas of Huira and Tolima provinces are perfect for coca plantations. Nogra will definitely grow coca in order to increase his income. He is an illegal warlord, and most of the coca can only be sold to me, which is another source of income. With the two sources combined, the annual profit exceeds $4 million."

Langdon nodded. A net profit of $4 million was indeed impressive on its own, but it wasn't enough to make a governor take such a big risk.

One hidden benefit is that it also supported a large number of workers.

The Vaughn family has a large number of vassals, with more than 10000 people working directly for them.

Having a large population is an advantage, as it gives them a significant voting advantage, allowing the Vaughn family to firmly control the city council seats in their region.

The downside is that the Vaughn family has to find ways to feed these people and provide them with plenty of work.

Otherwise, loyalty will turn into resentment.

Langdon asked doubtfully, "Are the Nograna reliable? Can they really hold their ground?"

Alger explained expressionlessly, "He's not stable, so we'll find someone who is. We send so many weapons to South America every year; we can easily put a newcomer in charge. Nogra is quite capable; his family has been entrenched in Huella and Tolima for decades, and their control over that territory is stronger than any warlord."

Langdon then asked another question: "So, what if Nogra takes over the two provinces and then gets out of control and turns on us?"

Alger calmly replied, "Therefore, I control the amount of arms I give him each year. Even if he secretly hides some, it won't be enough to conquer the whole of Colombia. As long as he can't conquer the whole of Colombia, he will inevitably be constantly besieged by the government forces and attacked by surrounding warlords, which will inevitably consume his arms."

"I see." Langdon nodded, having roughly understood his father's plan.

Alger was fairly satisfied with Langdon's reaction, and then added his final and most important calculation: "In addition to the financial benefits, we can also obtain some campaign funds."

"I've already reached an agreement with giants like Starbucks that I will roast high-quality Arabica beans from the two provinces and then supply them to them long-term..."

I supply these coffee giants in bulk at low prices. They gain access to ample, low-cost high-end raw materials, and a portion of the cost savings they accumulate each year goes legally into their corporate super PACs. This campaign funding, amounting to approximately $3000 million, allows them to launch nationwide campaign campaigns and media mobilizations to support my campaign.

A $3000 million campaign fund! Langdon suddenly realized.

He finally understood all of his father's plans.

For American politicians, the most important thing is the election.

The United States has very strict regulations on campaign finances.

Super PACs are the only independent political spending organizations in the United States whose funding is not subject to any restrictions under federal election laws!

It can accept unlimited donations, but cannot coordinate with the candidate's campaign team.

It independently produces and distributes campaign trolls, organizes voter mobilization, and launches advocacy campaigns, thereby influencing election results.

Unlike formal campaign teams, Super PACs do not have a donation cap, but they are required to disclose the identities of donors regularly.

In practice, funds often circulate through complex channels such as offshore entities, trading companies, and legal services, making it difficult to trace the original investors.

Alger's approach of indirectly influencing Super PAC through "commercial concessions" rather than "direct donations" is more covert and almost impossible to detect by the current election law oversight mechanisms!

Moreover, as long as Nogra controls the two provinces, every politician in the Vaughn family receives a sum of up to 3000 annually.

$10,000 in campaign funds.

With so much funding, as long as the candidate isn't an idiot, they can be invincible in any election below the senator or governor level!

This is the lasting legacy that Alger planned for the Vaughn family.

That's why his father was willing to take such a big risk. Langdon finally understood.

The world's Tolima coffee beans are mostly produced in two provinces of Colombia, and these beans are also a staple source of mid-to-high-end commercial coffee in the United States.

Only when this scarcity is present can there be a basis for subsequent operations.

"Father, you are indeed amazing," Langdon said, half flattering and half genuinely sincere.

This core asset also told Langdon that his father seemed to be handing over the family business to him.

The ambitions that had been suppressed for decades suddenly burst into flames.

Which man doesn't want to reach the pinnacle?

Which man wants to be a parasite, mingling with women?

Alger looked at Langdon and thought his youngest son wasn't so hopeless after all: "Next time I take you on a tour, try to use your phone less."

"I understand." Langdon nodded immediately, then hesitated for a moment before asking, "Big brother... has something happened?"

Alger squinted at Langdon, remaining silent for a long time until Langdon's heart raced. Only then did Alger sigh and whisper, "He has pancreatic cancer."

Langdon's eyes lit up slightly.

That's it!

I see!!!

Brother, it's a good thing you got pancreatic cancer!

Langdon forced a smile and said with feigned concern, "Then I'll go visit my older brother tomorrow!"

"You're going to visit him?" Alger glanced coldly at his youngest son. "No need. He's in a bad mood and won't see anyone for now. The Freedom Transport 3 will be back soon, bringing a batch of top-quality coffee beans and coca. You can come aboard with me to take a look."

Langdon nodded immediately: "Okay."

The CFO of Hax called Mellon Bank's loan department at 3 p.m.

The other party answered calmly, clearly having anticipated the call.

The CFO skipped the pleasantries and went straight to inquiring about the loan approval progress: "We've submitted all the supplementary materials as required by your bank, and we're about to start the bidding process. We need a clear disbursement timetable to arrange funding for the second round of bidding."

The other party paused for a moment, then replied calmly, "The internal risk control review is proceeding according to procedure, and we need more time to assess the valuation details of some of the collateral."

Please wait."

The CFO frowned slightly; he'd never been this slow before. "What specific valuation details are you referring to? We can provide supplementary materials."

"It's an internal bank procedure, so we don't need to provide any additional materials at the moment." The other party's tone remained unchanged: "We'll contact you as soon as there's any progress."

The phone hangs up.

The CFO frowned, sat for a moment, sensing something was amiss, and picked up his phone to dial Harker's number: "Mellon seems to be dragging their feet, citing an internal risk control review as the reason," but they haven't provided a specific timeline.

Harker frowned upon hearing this; Mellon Bank's delay made him slightly impatient, but he didn't dwell on it.

He had worked with Mellon Bank for many years, and this was not the first time he had encountered similar delays. This was a common problem for established banks, often just due to the inertia of internal processes, and the process would eventually be completed before the deadline.

"Keep following up and applying pressure," Hax said confidently. "They won't hold this loan up at the last minute."

The CFO sensed something was off, but since the boss had said so, he could only respond and hang up.

Hacks thought for a moment.

With the loan commitment from Mellon Bank, his own cash reserves, and short-term funds temporarily drawn from other sources, he could push the maximum offer for Lot A to $55 billion.

This figure far exceeds the Bellow Group's expectations for LOTA.

Currently, apart from Catherine, no other buyer can compete with him in this price range.

Catherine's overall offer was only around 120 billion, of which her share of the L0T A portion was at most 40 billion.

If Catherine is willing to cooperate with him, he can acquire the real estate of eight flagship stores at a low price, while Catherine can acquire the remaining assets with a lower overall offer. The two parties can sign a resale agreement after the bidding process and complete the transaction at a price agreed upon by both parties.

If Catherine refuses to cooperate, he will directly use 55 billion to bid for L0TA. In order to acquire the entire asset, Catherine's bid will have to be raised to more than 150 billion. Otherwise, the Bello board of directors will be more inclined to the split-up plan in the second round of evaluation.

Harker was 80% certain of victory, so Catherine had no choice but to give up LOT A. She still won.

Of course, Hax believed that if Catherine were a normal businesswoman, she would choose the former path.

Even if Catherine makes a stupid mistake, Hax is still guaranteed to win.

Hax mentally reviewed the two possible outcomes and grew increasingly confident.

A few seconds later, he turned his attention to other matters that needed to be dealt with. The time of the head of a large corporation is very precious, and there is no time to waste on business that must be won.

At St. Carlisle Church, the pews were already full 30 minutes before Mass began.

There were people standing in the back row, and the aisle was also crowded with people, mostly young people. Some were wearing hoodies with Debbie's image printed on them, some were holding up their phones, and some were holding rose prayer beads but not reciting them.

Father Calvin stood to the side of the altar, looking at the faces. He knew these young people were not believers at all, but they had indeed come to the church to see Saint-Debbie.

As long as you see enough, some sheep will eventually turn to the Lord's embrace; this is the significance of Saint Debbie.

Archbishop Sawyer was also sitting in the front row, but in an inconspicuous corner. He sighed when he saw this scene.

As long as Debbie has a strong appeal, the Vatican can't do anything about her.

Debbie walked into the church.

She wore a simple white dress today, and her hair was not styled in a bun, but hung naturally on her shoulders.

She wasn't wearing the golden crown of thorns, but as she walked along the central hall toward the front, the people on both sides automatically stepped back half a step, making way for her.

Debbie didn't stop, didn't wave, and didn't laugh.

She simply walked to the front row, sat down, bowed her head, and placed her hands clasped on her knees, just like any ordinary believer attending Mass.

However, her arrival did indeed change the atmosphere in the church.

Sawyer and Calvin exchanged a puzzled look, but they clearly felt an invisible resonance of faith, which strengthened their belief in the Lord.

Richard smiled slightly and ended the spell.

Since Irving wasn't there today, Richard reinforced the faith of a devout believer and then spread that faith, easily achieving his goal: to create momentum for Debbie.

Richard had noticed long ago that an old man with an extraordinary bearing was standing in the shadows in the corner of the main hall. Even when Sawyer passed by, he took the initiative to bow to greet him.

This is clearly an old man in a high position of power.

The old man's gaze remained fixed on Debbie, filled with scrutiny.

It is estimated that Debbie's actions attracted the attention of prominent figures in the Catholic Church, who began to evaluate Debbie's worth.

Didn't you want to give a review?

it is good!

I'll show you what Debbie is all about!

Sure enough, Richard's "burst of faith" had a huge effect.

Throughout the church, even the young people who were not religious before couldn't help but bow their heads in this situation. Some made the sign of the cross on their chests, and some whispered the name of Saint Debbie.

For many people, this was the first time in their lives that they felt a strange sense of awe and emotion, as if they were bathed in holy light.

So God really does exist!

"God, you truly love this girl." Sawyer smiled bitterly to himself.

Calvin composed himself and stepped onto the pulpit.

The Mass finally began.

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