Reborn American Giants

The president knelt down beside the old man's cardboard box and listened to his story.

He knew that the expensive suit he was wearing had been ruined by the wet clay on the ground, but he didn't move. He just knelt in it for a while, but this old man had lived here for a long time.

He forced himself to maintain that posture, ignoring the stench and moisture filling his nose, nodding and smiling from time to time, encouraging the old man to continue speaking.

The old man breathed in the turbid air in his lungs and told him his story: hard work, happy family, war, family destruction, sadness and pain, shaken faith, decadence, no way out, step by step to get to where he is today.

A field with no fixed address.

This is no one's fault, no one can be blamed, and no complaints can be made.

I can only blame the strong wind tonight, the heavy moisture on the ground, or the bad world?

He used to live in the sewers, which was actually better than the shack made of random logs he has now.

At least when it rains, his only possessions won't get soaked, and there won't be any police or gang members to harass him.

It’s just that the municipal sewage management department discovered it and put a lock on the entrance...

This turn of events is really shocking, and people need time to digest it.

They actually locked this poor man out of the sewer.

The old man stretched his arm, which was wrapped with a bandage. Some body fluids had penetrated and covered the surface of the bandage, which had hardened.

The bandages were dirty and dirty, and Jose felt that his flesh was tightening a little.

The old man sat closer. His deformed fingers were trembling and covered with black dirt. Some of his thick nails were broken at the waist, like the claws of a ghost.

This hand couldn't even go into the sewer. The president held this hand tightly and didn't let go for a long time.

After a while, he finally stood up and prepared to leave.

His trousers were stained with mud, and his eyes were filled with tears. Perhaps he had exerted too much force, and his jaw tightened angrily.

However, the media will say that everything is because of great love and sympathy. "Conscience President", tomorrow's newspaper headlines will loudly announce this title to the world.

Jose, covered in filth, slowly walked out of the leaky underground passage and made his way to the front page of every newspaper in the country.

…

Jose originally thought that he had been very careful and that this visit would definitely end successfully. A president cared about the sufferings of the lower class people and visited and inquired everywhere, showing a brand new image, which would help improve the situation he is currently facing.

The situation is still very beneficial.

So he planned carefully this time to ensure that others received notification from the Independence Palace three hours before his departure.

This time can ensure that those invited media reporters are ready to come immediately, but those with evil intentions will not have time to gather in crowds and cause trouble.

The original plan was very good and everything was going as expected.

However, as the president of a country, Jose's daily schedule is fully booked.

As the owner of the Independence Palace and the country's top leader, the government needs to know where their top leader is at all times, and the parliament also needs to be able to contact the president at any time in case of emergencies or the need to vote.

So, last Friday, the last day before the President's secret trip, a daily affairs secretary in the President's Office followed the preset instructions and sent all the arrangements of his boss for the coming week to the government authority responsible for coordinating various affairs.

The office is also the "Chairman's Office".

Therefore, Vice President Asdias Amfilo, as the former chairman of the National Committee of the Christian Democratic Party and the de facto "party whip", also knew the president's travel arrangements and plans.

However, Amfilo did not make any impulsive arrangements immediately. He contacted the Minister of Land and Agriculture, Yolande Behn, and introduced Victor to the minister who had recently been desperately trying to show off his talents...

Originally, Yolande Behn, as one of the senior leaders of the Christian Democratic Party, had been sitting in the important position of Minister of Land and Agriculture for several years since Jose took power.

A few years ago, the outside world generally believed that he was one of the rising political stars in the party, with a combination of vigorous and decisive style, profound knowledge and compassion.

Many people predict that he will have a smooth journey and aspire to the highest power. Yolande thinks so too.

However, the land issue became a black hole in his officialdom, and he fell deeper and deeper into it, unable to get out.

Faced with the growing protests on the outskirts of the capital by a large number of landless farmers arising from the civil war, he acted poorly and mishandled the situation, which damaged his image.

Jose's failure to implement the "Trial Land Reform Bill" before the election became the straw that broke the camel's back. He was depressed and discouraged.

He once revealed to the outside world that he had already planned to bid farewell to politics in the next election.

However, the sudden crisis that Jose encountered made Yolande see a piece of land very close to him like a man struggling in the water.

So recently, he has taken on a whole new look, full of passion and vitality again, determined to stand out and stand out from the crowd.

As for what will happen next, the distinguished Vice President said that he is very much looking forward to it.

…

In the distance, on Omat Street outside the Balan slum, in a small alley just one street away, two children aged eleven or two were playing football.

The so-called ball was not a real football, but a hemispherical object made from a pair of stockings stuffed with a large amount of tattered cotton wool and other rags.

About ten meters away from the entrance of the alley, parked was a gray-black shabby car with no visible brand, and two young men were sitting in the car.

Among the pedestrians passing by the alley, from time to time one or two people would walk up to the broken car and pass a wad of money through the car window. The black young man in the car would receive the money and make a sign to the two children playing football.

gesture.

The gesture is very simple, either raising one finger, or two, or three.

Then, the pedestrian who paid would walk up to the two children and take one or two transparent plastic bags filled with powder from one of them.

The passers-by seemed to have become accustomed to all this and were no longer surprised. As for what these people were doing, everyone knew very well.

These are the low-level gang members who are entrenched in the slums and are distributing.

In the past, in order to prevent the police from stealing the drugs, these gang members would never carry the drugs directly with them. Instead, they would divide the drugs into small packets of each gram, and then give them to these eleven or two-year-old children to carry, and they

Only responsible for collecting money.

Don't underestimate these young boys, they often have real personalities in them. If you encounter someone who is blind and wants to rob them, the first thing you have to face is the possibility of being shot to death by a bunch of brats.

possible.

But in the past, when they distributed, they were not as blatant as they are now.

But as several major organizations in San Salvador began to consolidate, the police were bribed to turn a blind eye to their actions.

As a result, these gang members began to move their "mobile shops" from the back streets of the slums to the streets where people come and go...

Adan hid in a newly opened Chinese restaurant across the street, leaning in front of the huge window facing the street, holding up the binoculars in his hand and taking in all the conditions at the only intersection opposite that allowed driving into the Balan slum.