Yes, Prime Minister of Japan

Chapter 611: America Yearns for an Emperor, the CIA Needs Light (4700 words)

October 7th, a rainy night.

The most common misconception is that the collapse of the existing order in the United States began with Trump.

No, it started with Reagan.

Although the social order before Reagan wasn't great either.

The affluent North Ridge neighborhood, Eman's house.

Ayman, holding the nursing Enya, complained to the Maleki squad:

“Yesterday another Black neighborhood and two Latino neighborhoods were burned down. They are all middle-class neighborhoods that are a little richer than poor white people. My parents weren’t 100% in favor of our marriage, but now they want us to leave Enya in New York. They will hire two nannies to take care of her 24 hours a day. They even want us to go on vacation to a scenic spot in the Caribbean right now.”

Li Xinghe certainly couldn't agree to that.

Now, by escaping the center of the vortex, one also distances oneself from power.

Leaving peaceful Japan and arriving in the dangerous United States, everyone was finding it hard to adjust. Enora, rubbing her forehead, broke down in tears:

"It feels like walking in a dark forest. You never know if you'll run into a crazy extremist blocking the road at the next intersection. You don't know if they're far left or far right, Proud Boys or Antifa, or even a demon in disguise. They might beat you up or even kill you for any reason, just because you were listening to black rap or white country music, which violated their political beliefs. There are thousands of shootings reported nationwide in a single day."

"It sounds quite Iraqi."

Maria's rant.

As is well known, during the height of sectarian conflict in Iraq, residents had to prepare multiple sets of sectarian clothing, books, and music playlists as disguises to protect themselves from being ambushed and killed by militias when crossing into each other's neighborhoods.

Jill hugged May, who had a darker complexion and Indigenous ancestry, tightly.

Will anyone be killed because of their skin color?

“Skin color? No, skin color doesn’t matter. They’ll look at your tattoos, your jewelry, and religious symbols more, which are more terrifying than skin color.”

After all, tattoos and jewelry are not easy to change, and once you lift up your sleeves or clothes, your political and religious stance can be seen at a glance.

Just then, tattooing became popular at the grassroots level in the United States.

This is just like pigs with built-in quarantine tags; once identified, they are slaughtered without any room for negotiation.

"So what if it's bad? Can we blame God?"

After everyone had complained, Scarlett, who was the last to come in and had the least opinion of her own, gave the most mundane summary.

In the United States, a capitalist country where the strong prey on the weak, the social law that the strong are right and the weak deserve to die becomes even more blatantly evil during times of turmoil.

In this conflict that Trump has created for his third term, he himself is not the one who created it all.

Far-right militias didn't emerge at this time; they had been inciting anti-government movements for over a decade, repeatedly attacking local governments by organizing legal marches and protests and instigating riots. The militias have a complex relationship with the CIA and FBI, and far-right groups across the country number in the hundreds of thousands.

Grassroots gang-like organizations have existed for over a hundred years. As builders of grassroots community order, they participate in the elections of both the Democratic and Republican parties, gradually whitewashing themselves, and then causing a large majority of members of Congress to be implicated in cases and convicted, yet still able to escape justice under the obstruction of a mysterious force.

Li Xinghe thought for a moment and then summarized:

"Is there a big difference between shouting 'Sieg heil?' at a presidential election event and 'Hail to the chief'? You and we all know what Americans want, but deep down they don't dare to admit it."

"Sieg heil" was the Nazi salute to Hitler, while "Hail to the Chief" is the presidential anthem played in the United States during presidential coronation ceremonies to pay tribute to the leader.

The German word "Heil" and the English word "Hail" are synonyms and have no difference.

The United States is also a place where Nazi ideology remains strong and escaped a thorough purge after World War II.

Ordinary Americans don't actually want democracy. What they want in the electoral process is a responsible father figure, a patriarch who can bail them out, an omnipotent savior. What the Chinese see as a yearning for the return of an emperor, and Europeans as a plea for the return of Hitler.

This seems very bizarre, but upon closer examination, its rationale becomes apparent.

In an East where there truly is a patriarchal society that provides all-encompassing support, the opposition cries out for "the pursuit of freedom and liberation," regarding the leadership and culture of the country across the sea as their guiding principles. They seek indulgence because they are within the existing order.

In the United States, where there is no safety net, what people yearn for in the practice of democracy and freedom is the ultimate model of government and super-leader of the country they fear, dread, and hate most. They hope to have an omnipotent God to rescue them from chaos and infighting. But they dare not speak out, and are not even aware of what they want, because the media has silenced them with words, labeling all ultimate order as Hitler and Nazism.

But it is precisely because there is none that there is a longing, and that is how Trump came to be.

There are so many outspoken lunatics in the US, but that's precisely why Trump, who shares some similarities with Hitler, is so wildly popular among Americans.

Just as the discussion was becoming increasingly radical, almost equating Trump with Hitler in the English context, but what Li Xinghe actually wanted to express was that Americans were pursuing an all-powerful and wise emperor as a savior, thankfully the phone rang.

Ayman answered the phone and pointed to the door:

"The CIA called and wants you to come back to work."

. "

"Going to work, fucking going to work. Going to work on a rainy night."

Despite grumbling, Li Xinghe impatiently got up, tidied himself up with Mei's help, took Jill with him, prepared self-defense weapons in the dead of night, and headed to Langley headquarters.

……

The 40-kilometer drive passed in a flash.

The CIA probably does consider its employees, so there weren't many strange monsters nearby. Jill fired two shots and then there was no sound.

“You go up, I’ll stay down here and watch the car. We can’t let anyone steal it.” Jill looked at the dark CIA building, shook her head, and didn’t want to go up.

It was the same clueless female administrator as last time, but this time she took Li Xinghe to the upper level and said:

"The Chief Affairs Officer wants to see you."

Then, Li Xinghe saw a very... strange woman in the office.

Her head was shaped like it had been pressed out of a brick, a very distinctive and bizarre skull, coupled with her enormous cheeks and chin, giving the impression of seeing a female orc. Especially after she grew old and obese, her body became even larger, making her look like a monster chieftain from a traditional Western fantasy story.

She is indeed the CIA's female orc chieftain.

The female administrator explained:

"This is Moira Burns, the CIA's Chief Operating Officer."

"Hello, I am G.Li."

This tall, elderly woman from Pittsburgh is currently the highest-ranking administrative officer in the CIA, responsible for the agency's overall operations. Her position is actually quite similar to that of the vice-ministers in various Japanese ministries. In other words, Japan modeled its highest administrative officer position after the United States.

She joined the CIA in 2000 as a senior analyst, following a typical elite career path. In 2010, she was selected for the senior intelligence agency. In 2016, at the end of Obama's term, she received the Presidential Award. In 2024, during Biden's term, she won the Washington 100 Award, which aims to select 100 of America's most powerful figures each year. Her inclusion in the list naturally speaks to her strength.

Her story also shows that Chief Mora entered the CIA in the early 2000s when it began to become deeply entangled with the Democratic Party, and then rose to power with the support of the Democratic Party. Biden and Obama both helped her, so the Democratic Party was obviously her backer.

Therefore, it was not surprising that Li Xinghe began to make statements with a clear stance:

Where are our two rubber stamps?

The entire CIA has only two political appointees: the director and deputy director.

Although the administrator is incompetent, they are also very savvy about workplace dynamics, and ask in return:

"Who? You mean Chief John Ratcliffe and Deputy Chief Michael Evans?"

This is a prelude to the Great Chief.

Chief Mora immediately caught up and, in her old lady's manner, reprimanded the young man:

“Young man, don’t be so harsh. Before you became the king of Tokyo’s underworld, Director Rat served as a member of parliament three times, and Deputy Director Evans was a senior legal and security advisor to the parliament, a position of the same rank as your father-in-law, but much younger.”

Li Xinghe shrugged, indicating his agreement.

Then, the chieftain took Li Xinghe to a private office.

She handed Li Xinghe a new document:

"After discussing your intelligence, the Intelligence Analysis Bureau recommends granting you the special position of 'Chief of an Independent Department' and re-establishing the 'Joint East Asia Bureau' in Tokyo, with your personnel as the core, primarily responsible for political and intelligence operations in Japan, South Korea, North Korea, China, the Russian Far East, the Philippines, and Taiwan. Your network of relationships is very complex, and I have realized that East Asian affairs are indeed better handled by the residents of East Asia themselves."

Chief Mora, who rose from intelligence analyst to CIA director, analyzed the problem of white dominance in East Asia's underground intelligence arena. He pointed out that white people generally cannot integrate into their political environment and can only operate in the margins of the media.

Li Xinghe chuckled and accepted the document:

"It's a bit insulting to Vietnam, but I like it."

The Great Chief didn't care:

"Alright, I won't interfere with the hierarchy of contempt among you East Asians, but if you like sending people to Vietnam, that's fine too. After all, we do need people there."

What she cares about more is:

"So, can we leave things in Tokyo here?"

The subtext is: you've already caused Major General Moiz to die in the fire, the Tokyo branch's already meager manpower is almost wiped out, and the special operations team is all dead. Shouldn't you stop now?

"It's over, of course it's over."

Li Xinghe stood up and bowed slightly to show his respect.

The old woman then warned him:

"After returning to Tokyo this time, the Tokyo New United East Asia Bureau will be reorganized. I will appoint someone you know to take charge of the department's restructuring, so don't mess with me, you naughty boy. This is the last time I'll let you have your way."

Seeing that she didn't seem angry, Li Xinghe instead began to flatter her:

"You've got me."

“I’ve been testing, testing every node that might disrupt the Tokyo branch’s operations, and then I caught you.” The chief was quite satisfied with his intelligence analysis skills.

Although this elderly woman had never been on the front lines, she had served as a senior intelligence analyst for nearly thirty years. She naturally knew how to use indirect intelligence to deduce who the troublemakers were. After a series of tests, she discovered that none of the problems could be solved by focusing solely on Li Xinghe.

Now, she pulled Li Xinghe out of the crowd.

Of course, capturing Li Xinghe for more than a year can hardly be considered an achievement.

So when Li Xinghe habitually took out a paper bag of US dollars from his pocket and offered it to the old lady, she did not refuse.

Money is money; even the CIA needs to eat. Without the bribes from various local warlords and the massive amount of capital required for operations, how could the old lady have remained the chief operations officer for so long?

Seeing that Li Xinghe was very docile, the old lady finished tapping him and stood up, saying:

"Let's get ready for the meeting."

"A conference that will decide the fate of our CIA."

Twenty minutes later, in a confidential conference room.

More than twenty spy managers, ranging from assistant director to assistant deputy director, department chief, and senior executive, were sitting in the room. Although they were essentially all working people, dressed in suits and ties and no different from administrative officials, sitting here still made Li Xinghe feel no different from sitting in a den of thieves.

The office is simple and small, without any luxurious or ostentatious decorations.

But the meeting room was pitch black.

This feeling is like in a Japanese manga, where a group of villains are plotting in a dark room because of insufficient electricity, but in reality, they end up just sitting in a meeting room without electricity, drinking tea, chatting idly, and watching the protagonist grow.

Li Xinghe Ling first proposed:

"Do we have to chat with the lights off and pretend to be villains in the dark? Aren't we just unfortunate working people with Starbucks and Domino's Pizza? I think for the sake of our eye health, let's do the dirty work with the lights on. As long as we feel at ease, it's not shameful."

In the darkness, Director Mora's large head and chin stood out so uniquely, reflecting a special arc of light.

She patted the switch behind her and scolded Li Xinghe:

"Do you think this is a Japanese comic? You idiot, it's because the power supply facilities near Langley have been destroyed by a group of far-left lunatics who claim they want to carry out natural greening for all mankind and eliminate the use of coal-fired power."

"Where is our backup power?"

"We don't have the funds to repair it; it broke down five months ago."

"Fuck Musk."

"Musk's mother is in China, go to Shanghai to find her."

People began hurling insults and humiliating the instigator, frequently targeting President Mahathir with the following three phrases. Clearly, if the Republican Party can't hold its ground, Mahathir will really have to prepare for the worst.

It's hilarious.

To put it simply, at this moment, the United States felt to Li Xinghe very much like a race.

The Middle Ages in the style of Bopunk.

Unified order was gradually lost because the king was absent, and whether a region was peaceful depended entirely on the strength of its grassroots communities. It depended on the power of the bishop, gangs, and community committees. Water, electricity, and heating supplies also depended entirely on the capabilities of large local corporations.

Once you leave the town, the wilderness will randomly spawn crazed far-right militias/bandits/thieves/illegal immigrants/motorcycle gangs and bizarre environmentalists, while the city dwellers, too, become increasingly like oddballs amidst the chaotic grassroots community brawls. No matter your position or how powerful you are, on this magical land, there will always be some freaks who ruin the atmosphere.

Just like gangsters shooting in front of the White House and into Obama's daughter's room, or environmental extremists dismantling electrical boxes and cutting off power to key government departments, these are all real events that have happened.

There was always a pressing reality reminding Li Xinghe that this was the magical United States.

The Great Chief was angry:

"At least give us some light."

So a group of modern-dressed secretaries in suits took items from a locker and lit candles on the spot.