I searched and fought in America.

Rosen withdrew his gaze and finally looked at the city government official who had been waiting impatiently.

The man's smile almost froze, and seeing that Rosen was finally looking at him, he immediately took a step forward:

"Mr. Rosen! The mayor asked me to—"

"I know."

Rosen interrupted him, his tone flat, "Public opinion has exploded, and I need to step in, right?"

The man paused for a moment, then nodded repeatedly:

"Yes, yes, that's exactly it! You understand perfectly!"

Rosen looked at him without saying a word.

That look made the man inexplicably uneasy.

"Mr. Rosen?" he asked tentatively.

Rosen withdrew his gaze and strode forward:

"Let's go."

The man paused for a moment, then asked, "Where to?"

"Go see your mayor." Rosen said without turning his head. "Didn't he want to see me?"

The man then realized what was happening and quickly jogged to catch up.

Morris stood there, watching Rosen's figure disappear at the end of the corridor.

Then he looked down at the small white booklet in his arms.

Silent for a long time.

He turned to the first page.

It says--

"Iron Claw Church Doctrine, Volume One"

"All my believers, know this—"

"God loves the world, but he will not save those who do not save themselves."

"The suffering in this world is not a test from God, but evidence of sin left by devils in human skin."

"Fighting the devil is not a choice, it's a mission."

"We are each other's protectors."

"We are the iron claws of God on earth."

As Morris looked at the words, his breathing became heavy.

He lived for almost fifty years.

He had seen the doctrines of countless sects.

But he had never seen anything like it before...

---

The car stopped in front of an office building.

Rosen opened the car door and looked up.

The building, which is over twenty stories high, is entirely made of glass curtain walls, and a sign hangs at the entrance that reads "Houston Municipal Business Center".

"Mr. Rosen, this way please." The city government official stepped aside to lead the way, his smile extremely ingratiating. In his eyes, Rosen was now a rising star and had to be served well.

Rosen nodded and stepped inside.

The elevator went up to the twelfth floor.

At the end of the corridor, hushed conversations could be heard coming from a half-open door.

Pushing open the door, I found five or six people already seated in the conference room.

On one side of the long table, Emily sat by the window, holding a document in her hand. When she saw Rosen enter, her expression froze for a moment before she quickly looked away.

On the other side, Michel sat upright. When he saw Rosen, he nodded slightly as a greeting.

The remaining few people were all city government members in suits, both men and women, ranging in age from thirty to fifty.

Their eyes all fell on Rosen, as if they were examining a newly arrived piece of merchandise.

The seat at the head of the table was empty; the mayor wasn't there.

"Mr. Rosen, please have a seat." A middle-aged man sitting at the other end of the long table spoke up. He was wearing a suit and gold-rimmed glasses, and looked shrewd and capable.

"I am Howard Griffin, the deputy director of the mayor's office, and I will be chairing today's meeting."

Rosen sat down opposite him, offering no pleasantries, but simply nodding.

Howard seemed a little uncomfortable with his attitude; his smile froze for a moment, but he quickly returned to normal.

"Mr. Rosen," he opened the file in front of him, "you must have already read the mayor's reply, right?"

Rosen nodded.

He had already read the letter on his way here.

The details are simple: Thomas Roll contacted Will, the manager of Black Gold Capital, in his personal capacity, and transferred Rosen's $800,000 high-interest loan debt to a Houston bank, retaining $300,000 of the principal and waiving all interest.

At the end of the letter, Thomas wrote in a rather warm tone: "It's just a small favor, don't worry about it, and please feel free to ask if you need anything in the future."

If a mayor spoke so kindly, someone with a weak mind would probably be moved to tears.

After reading the letter, Rosen remained silent for a long time.

He didn't expect Thomas to help him solve this problem.

Turning 800,000 into 300,000 with no interest—this was a godsend for him right now.

But he also knew very well that there is no such thing as a free lunch.

Thomas helped him because he was useful.

What happens when it's used up?

Rosen snapped out of his thoughts and looked at Howard:

"I've seen it."

Howard nodded, his smile widening.

"The mayor values ​​you highly, Mr. Rosen. As you know, it's not easy for ordinary people to get involved with Black Gold Capital. It was only through the mayor's personal intervention that this matter was resolved for you."

He paused, his tone carrying a hint of meaning:

"This favor is quite substantial."

Rosen looked at him without saying a word.

Howard waited two seconds, and seeing that he didn't seem inclined to respond, he had no choice but to continue:

"Of course, the mayor is helping you because he thinks highly of you. After all, you are now a hero of Houston and the face of our city."

He closed the file and leaned back in his chair.

"So, the reason we invited Mr. Rosen here today is to discuss with you how to best utilize this opportunity."

A woman wearing glasses next to them chimed in:

"Mr. Rosen, we have drafted a preliminary cooperation plan. Please take a look."

She pushed a document towards me.

Rosen took it and opened it.

The clauses were densely packed, totaling seven or eight pages.

He looked at it for a few minutes, then looked up:

"Simply put, they want me to cooperate with them, to project the image of a 'Houston hero,' and to help them with their political propaganda?"

Howard smiled and nodded:

"Mr. Rosen is indeed clever; that's exactly what he meant. Don't worry, you won't be left with nothing. The city government will provide you with a series of support measures."

For example, the environmental inspections for your recycling company can be relaxed in the future; for example, if you need any permits, we can prioritize your application.

Rosen didn't answer immediately, but continued reading.

As he looked at it, his brows furrowed slightly.

"Article Four," he looked up, "This article states that I need to cooperate with the city government in no fewer than twenty public events within the next year, including but not limited to press conferences, community visits, charity events, and political rallies."

Besides, the time was designated by the municipal government, so I couldn't refuse?

Howard's smile remained unchanged:

"This is to ensure the effectiveness of the publicity, Mr. Rosen. As you know, public opinion needs to be allowed to ferment continuously."

Rosen didn't respond and continued reading:

Article 7. I shall not accept any media interviews without the approval of the municipal government, nor shall I publish any content related to public affairs on social media platforms.

Article 9. I shall not publicly express views that contradict the position of the municipal government; otherwise, it shall be deemed a breach of contract.

Article 12. This cooperation period is three years. During this period, I may not voluntarily terminate the cooperation; otherwise, I shall compensate the municipal government for all losses incurred as a result. The amount of the losses shall be determined unilaterally by the municipal government.

He closed the file and looked at Howard:

"Mr. Howard, I'd like to ask, are you serious about these terms?"

The atmosphere in the meeting room froze slightly.

Howard's smile faded slightly.

"Mr. Rosen, these terms are all to ensure the smooth progress of the cooperation. As you know, once public opinion gets out of control, it will not benefit anyone."

Rosen leaned back in his chair and looked at him:

"So, if I cooperate with you, things go 'smoothly,' and if I don't cooperate, things are 'out of control,' and then I have to pay compensation—how much is up to you?"

---

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