The Tyrant Billionaire

"How could you think that of me? I would never do such a thing," Dewey said angrily.

"Governor, to survive, I must consider everyone with the lowest intentions, including you. Rest assured, for the sake of that five hundred thousand, I won't expose you easily. I'll contact you again."

After saying this, Arnold decisively hung up the phone.

Dewey held the phone in a daze, his mind swirling with countless thoughts. If this matter got out, what kind of criticism would he face? How would voters perceive it? How would his opponents seize the opportunity to attack him?

Paying the man five hundred thousand dollars wasn't really a problem for Dewey. He feared the man might keep the evidence even after receiving the money. If he became President, would he continue to be blackmailed?

He had always been a proud man. He didn't want to leave a stain on his record or leave a handle for others.

Nor did he want to be blackmailed. With a ticking time bomb by his side.

Dewey had two people he trusted the most: one was his former subordinate in the prosecution system who followed him, and the other was his aide, who was also his top advisor.

He called the two into his office and told them about the extortion threat.

When the two heard Dewey was being threatened, they immediately realized the seriousness of the situation. The aide suggested, "This person is always a threat. We should think of a way to eliminate him."

"This isn't about the money. What if we give him the money, but he still keeps the evidence? When you become President, he could sell this evidence to other countries, and you might face impeachment."

Dewey felt a bit irritable.

Trying to cover up one matter could lead to a series of other problems. The more he thought about it, the more complicated it became.

He thought of the money.

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Suddenly, he felt intense resentment towards the Chinese representative who sent him the money. He had enough support from various forces and wasn't short of money, yet that bastard insisted on giving him money. Back then, he casually accepted it, thinking it was no big deal, but now it had put him in such an awkward position.

"What do you think we should do?" Dewey asked his advisor in a low voice.

"Get rid of that reporter," the advisor replied simply and directly.

Dewey frowned.

Getting rid of the reporter would make him no different from those gangsters he sent to jail.

But, to be honest, when he was threatened, this thought had crossed his mind.

Because that would solve everything once and for all. As for the money, he could quietly return it afterward.

That way, it would all happen without anyone knowing.

"Investigate where that call came from and see if you can find this person," Dewey told his aide.

"Okay, I'll get someone to investigate right away."

...

In Arnold's rented room.

After hanging up the phone, Arnold pressed the button on the tape recorder and then spoke to the running camera, "Everything that just happened is recorded. I want to clarify that I'm blackmailing Governor Dewey not for money but to gather more evidence.

"I don't know what will happen next, there might be danger. I'll send this tape to a friend. If anything happens, the friend will give it to the police. I'll continue to record the whole process. If this succeeds, I'll make it into a documentary. What should I name it?

I'll think about it."

Then Arnold walked to the camera and turned it off.

After turning off the camera, Arnold left the recently rented apartment with his belongings and drove away.

He wouldn't be returning here again.

...

The day after Arnold left, a black sedan pulled up outside the house he had rented. Four men got out of the car, looking around carefully. Two of them went to the back of the house, while the other two approached the front door.

They knocked.

But no one answered.

The two men at the front exchanged a few words. One of them pulled out a small set of tools and fiddled with the doorknob for a moment before the door clicked open.

They entered cautiously, checking each room. The house was empty, which disappointed them. They started searching the rooms but couldn't find what they were looking for.

What they didn't know was that, from another location, a camera was focused on them, capturing their every move clearly.

About an hour later, the men left in their car.

Dewey's office.

An assistant walked in to report, holding a thin file.

"That guy is clever. The men we sent came up empty. The house was empty, and there were no documents. The house was rented just a few days ago, and only for a month."

"This is the journalist's file."

He handed the papers to Dewey.

Dewey glanced at it. Arnold, a journalist for the Global Times, and a former soldier. There was a photo of a tall, sturdy man with a square face that exuded a sense of determination.

Global Times journalist.

An associate of the Hardy Group.

Damn. Why Is that Jon Hardy always getting in my way? Whenever he's involved, nothing good ever happens.

...

Two nights later.

On a street in New York City.

A tall, strong man entered a public phone booth.

He took out a coin, inserted it, and dialed a number.

Dewey was in his bedroom reviewing a speech when the phone rang. He picked it up, hearing a voice that was both familiar and strange.

"Governor."

Dewey's hand paused slightly as he held the phone. "It's you."

"Heh, yes, it's me. The thing I feared most has happened. You sent people to my place and searched everything. Let me guess what you're planning. You want to kill me, don't you?" Arnold said coldly.

"Absolutely not! I just wanted to talk," Dewey quickly replied.

"Heh, I'm not a child. Do you think I would believe that? Are you forcing me to go public with this?" Arnold said.

"No, no. I've had the money prepared. We can arrange a transaction anytime," Dewey said urgently.