Chapter 155: The Awkward Gathering

The American Entertainment Software Rating Board began preparations, commonly known as the ESRB.

This time, nobody made sarcastic remarks. They were entirely transparent, and their review standards closely mirrored those of the motion picture industry. The only distinction lay in the exceptionally stringent criteria applied to shooting games.

Such standards might seem overly harsh in other countries, but in America, they were an absolute necessity. Firearms had become an overwhelming plague in the United States, averaging roughly one gun for every two people.

You must understand that the ability to purchase something is one thing, while having a genuine need for it is entirely another. Living in a major city, a firearm is hardly a necessity; quite the contrary, these items are a tremendous hassle. Losing a firearm would invariably lead to a monumental headache.

Those who do not know how to handle weapons are best advised to stay away from them. The probability of shooting yourself is infinitely close to one hundred percent. These items are best suited for the suburbs, where such environments prevent disasters from happening.

You might argue that shooting games are immensely lucrative.

Very well, even if we forgo those profits, so be it. With stricter review standards in place, the regulatory body bears no responsibility if you choose to recklessly court disaster yourselves.

The ESRB operated with extreme efficiency and had already begun soliciting public feedback. If the public expressed dissatisfaction with any clauses, the ESRB would make the necessary adjustments.

Good grief, committees with this level of accountability were a rare breed.

Comparison is the thief of joy; just look at the Comics Code Authority today—it was an absolute joke. They could arbitrarily declare any comic book undesirable, yet what on earth were their criteria?

Stan Lee had long held a deep resentment toward the CCA. Their entire department consisted of utter laymen who insisted on standing by and pointing fingers, all while hiding behind the noble pretext of protecting the children.

The old man possessed quite a stubborn streak. So what if the CCA failed to grant approval? He would simply bypass newsstands entirely.

Including the ESRB, these American committees were voluntary associations lacking robust legal binding force. If industry giants chose to ignore you, they simply ignored you.

As mentioned previously, America harbored a vast underground comic market. This did not refer to illicit under-the-counter sales; rather, the so-called underground comics were simply works that had never undergone formal censorship.

Comics lacking the CCA seal of approval could not appear in regular newsstands, but comic specialty shops welcomed them without issue. No matter how controversial or boundary-pushing the content might be, nobody interfered.

The ESRB operated on a similar philosophy, much like the motion picture rating committees. None of these organizations possessed genuine law enforcement powers; they existed merely as mechanisms for internal industry self-regulation.

America possessed a multitude of committees like this, yet the CCA stood alone as entirely divorced from the industry. It was the brainchild of a bunch of outdated relics who completely ignored the practical realities of the comic book trade.

Professional matters should be left to professionals. After arguing endlessly, that cabal of self-righteous moral guardians had failed to produce a single viable proposal. Look at what others had accomplished by comparison—it was simply a completely different tier of competence.

With the matter settled, arcade machine orders naturally began to surge. Following the intense media frenzy of recent days, the six games developed by Legend World had achieved widespread renown.

The Japanese were deeply disappointed. They had hoped the Americans would continue their chaotic infighting. Legend World was simply too formidable; in the wake of this ordeal, their bargaining leverage would shrink even further.

William White, of course, was hardly having an easy time of it either. The commotion had been entirely too massive, and dreaming of maintaining a low profile was virtually impossible.

Yet he had anticipated this outcome long ago. The fundamental truth was simple: wealth provokes envy. While everyone else was struggling to make ends meet, you were quietly making a colossal fortune—avoiding resentment under such circumstances was out of the question.

A conflict devoid of victors left everyone thoroughly embarrassed, exposing the deep-seated flaws of the American system once again.

Indeed, cumbersome conglomerates that grew too large to manage were truly a headache. Not only were numerous non-conglomerate factions discontented, but severe internal friction plagued the conglomerates themselves as well.

"Dad, you always accuse me of acting recklessly, but William White is far more outrageous than I could ever be."

Listening to his son's complaints, the elder Bush remained unruffled, thinking to himself that his son truly lacked ambition. William White had managed to force the conglomerates into silence; let someone else try to pull that off.

"Outrageous? I don't think so. Did he commit any inappropriate actions?"

"Things have reached this point, and you don't call that outrageous?"

"Ha, but he has the moral high ground. While that might not be the most crucial factor, nobody truly wanted a falling-out with him. Didn't they leave him a dignified way out in the end? They even helped him find a scapegoat to take the blame. How can you claim he acts recklessly? He is remarkably methodical."

The elder Bush saw right through the situation. Youth was this young man's greatest asset, and others genuinely feared his unpredictable nature—this was no laughing matter.

By this juncture, the old guard could not help but feel resentful. From their perspective, this had merely been a routine probe.

Very well, they had indeed succeeded.

In their eyes, William White was a raving lunatic. Over such a trivial matter, was it necessary to go to such extremes?

"Boss, the security team just reported that unidentified individuals were seen leaving the vicinity of the villa under highly suspicious circumstances."

"What? Approximately how many people, and what were their intentions?"

"Unknown. The guards responsible for protecting the young master also reported being followed by suspicious operatives."

"Bastards, you have pushed this too far."

The old man was incandescent with rage, though he failed to notice that his voice was trembling slightly.

If those individuals could approach his family undetected, how could they possibly have been discovered upon their departure? This was nothing less than a blatant, unvarnished warning.

Everything uncovered subsequently made his scalp tingle even further. His subordinates reported finding traces of mortar emplacements installed around the perimeter of the villa; because they had arrived late, the intruders had already vanished entirely.

Good lord, did we share such an irreconcilable blood feud?

Hmph, I will scare the living daylights out of you, you turtle's son. Do not dare accuse me of making a mountain out of a molehill—we are talking about at least one hundred million dollars in annual profits, potentially doubling to two hundred million in the future.

Is your precious hide really worth that much money?

The old man was thoroughly terrified. He had never imagined that death could loom so close to home. Judging by this display, the opposition had clearly intended to annihilate his entire household.

As for the consequences?

When you are already dead, do consequences matter? Even if the fallout were catastrophic, what business of yours would it be?

William White's unbridled audacity genuinely infuriated countless individuals.

Yet, to reiterate: what business was it of theirs?

Do not assume the conglomerates had never resorted to such tactics. The DuPont conglomerate had literally done the exact same thing in the past, not only bombing a rival's factory but leaving their villa completely leveled as well.

Yet, my dear sir, what era was that from? How could you possibly dare pull such a stunt today?

The rationale was simple: battles between conglomerates were traditionally fought within the established rules. However, when dealing with outsiders, they abandoned all pretense of fair play. Since you refused to play by the rules, why on earth should I adhere to them?

Many individuals were frightened into sobriety. They began to reexamine their own conduct. William White's violent retaliation had indeed unsettled them, but regardless of right and wrong, their own provocative actions had been fundamentally flawed from the start.

The man was happily raking in one or two hundred million dollars a year, yet you chose to disrupt his operations and plotted a blatant armed robbery. Dying under such circumstances was hardly an injustice.

You could compete through superior products or deploy financial leverage—such tactics occurred daily in the wars between conglomerates. But directly sabotaging someone's livelihood crossed a line into a fight to the death.

The fact that these conglomerates had endured through the decades was certainly no coincidence or stroke of good fortune; they had forged their survival by learning from failures and adapting accordingly. The peaceful, leisurely years of late had clearly made them complacent.

The White family was down to its last surviving heir, yet you genuinely mistook them for a soft persimmon to be kneaded at will?

Even a single surviving heir represented a venerable lineage; their foundation and resources were no inferior to your own. Did you truly believe their success was mere luck? Without immense financial backing and manpower, achieving such a rapid ascent would have been impossible.