Working as a police officer in Mexico

Every "movement" needs a leader!

The conflict also signifies the beginning of a political game…

New York, Cornell University.

Forest Gan, holding a megaphone, stood below the statue of the school's forebears, as his classmates lifted him high, he hysterically shouted, "Fellow students!"

"The U.S. Government is slaughtering our country, they are brazenly provoking the Constitution. What have Black people done wrong, what have Mexicans done wrong? They merely seek a land to survive on!"

"But, that son of a ***** Old Bush actually killed them. Do you hear it? Washington is weeping, Lincoln is weeping, Roosevelt is weeping, and my ancestor James Buchanan is weeping too!!"

His face turned crimson red, and his pupils dilated slightly from agitation.

"The knowledge we learn has never been for the purpose of genocide and racial exclusion, but for, world, peace! Fellow students, the time has come for us to stand up, to support them, to help them, to save them!"

"Charge!"

Forest Gan leaped from his companions, taking the lead with waving arms!

Humans are herd animals; when there is a leader, they simply follow.

Thousands of members from the "Blue Gold Society" rushed out of the school with banners and slogans, the security at the door didn't even know where to run.

This "Blue Gold Society" claimed to oppose war, drugs, and crime, advocating for peaceful coexistence. Thus, their influence was significant among American student groups. Furthermore, with some "media" periodically hyping them up, Forest Gan was simply a "Youth Leader."

Hmm…

The media hype articles, varying in price based on viewership, were of course funded by "behind-the-scenes sponsors," a process known as media-driven deification.

Much like the later "environmental girl" Greta Thunberg proclaimed by Europe and America, wasn't she just a "puppet" thrown out by adults?

She didn't know crap. If she did less X, perhaps she'd fart less too.

Victor meant to throw out the intern, Forest Gan, in these circumstances, right or wrong, someone in the U.S. political sphere would always welcome him.

To support "Ah Gan," the Mexican Governor's Palace even established a project named: "The Creation of a Savior," internally called the "President of the United States Nurturing Plan!"

Oh, snap!

This was a high-level plan, Victor as the person entirely in charge, with fewer than five people in the know. Their job was to package Forest Gan as the Savior.

In fifteen years, the aim was to ascend him to the throne.

Victor had all the time in the world to take it slow.

Meals should be eaten one bite at a time…

As Forest Gan, with his fervent youths, went to support the minorities, they encountered the police on the way, and those cops charged at them and beat them!

He took a blow to the head, blood streaming down, his glasses falling and getting crushed underfoot. Yet he still spread his arms wide in front of all his companions, his face fierce with a look of desperation and power.

Shouting at the police.

"If the death of one man can save the nation! Then please kill me, Forest Gan! Do not harm the lives of my fellow countrymen, long live the United States!!"

"Coincidentally," seven or eight journalists appeared in this conflict zone and "just happened" to broadcast the scene live.

His blood-streaked face and fearless expression instantly flooded the news channels of various TV stations. It must be said, Forest Gan did have a very… righteous appearance.

Especially his plea, "Please kill Forest Gan!", which instantly turned him into an idol for American students.

That crowd painted themselves in "Blood Clothing," stepped out of schools, went to the police station, stood in front of the White House, raising their hands, "Free Forest Gan."

The new CIA Director, Stanfield Turner, was instantly captivated by this young man—not because he thought he was tough, but a hunch told him something was off about this, so he interrogated him overnight. Discover exclusive tales on My Virtual Library Empire

"You should know what you're doing! You're inciting emotions," the CIA agent asked with knitted brows, "Don't you want your diploma?"

"I study not for that thin diploma, but to use my knowledge to build the United States. You can take away my academic credentials, but you cannot take away my determination. If need be, I will pick trash!" Forest Gan was handcuffed, his head wrapped with gauze, but he spoke with unwavering conviction.

Bang!

The CIA agent slammed the table, demanding to know, "Is someone making you do this?"

Forest Gan was startled, but then his face displayed extreme anger. He tried to stand up, but was restrained by handcuffs, he could only fix his feet in place, but that didn't stop him from angrily kicking, trying to kill his opponent, "@w$%#! You this CIA &%$#! If you want to kill me then just kill me. Kill one of me, and there will still be thousands of Forest Gans, but you can't smear my reputation. I deeply love my country and will never betray it!!"

The CIA agent didn't expect him to be so passionate and frowned as he looked towards the adjoining one-way glass. The people inside couldn't see out clearly, but those outside could see every move inside.

Stanfield Turner held a cup of coffee, his gaze so probing it reflected light, as he watched the agitated Forest Gan, "Do you think he's lying?"

"Yes!" The confidant beside him said decisively, "His patriotism is too fake, there are no such people in America."