Chapter Ninety-Two: A One-Person Show

The Americans really had it rough. They only had to cry out a few weak protests, and that was that; the public hardly cared any more. Most Americans did not even know where Afghanistan was, so long as nothing happened on their own doorstep.

Though there would be no military support, other forms of support were still necessary. If you truly did nothing at all, who would still care about you as the so-called leader of the world?

Political and diplomatic pressure was obviously useless. The Russians simply would not buy it. This was the Cold War era, and everyone was already hostile by nature.

Economic sanctions would not produce immediate results either. Aside from the French, the developed countries would not do business with the Russians.

The French were romantic. They had already forgotten the war, and while the British were content to play the subordinate, they were not.

This time seemed a bit troublesome; the Americans had turned their spearpoint toward the Olympic Games.

No one knew what was going through the Russians’ heads. Couldn’t they just wait until the Games were over to fight? It was not such a big matter anyway; whenever they fought, the result would be the same.

Now it was too late. Everyone had begun choosing sides. The Americans openly boycotted the Olympics and called on a crowd of their lackeys to stay away as well.

Under these circumstances, the French seemed unable to indulge their temperament. A simple sense of right and wrong was still necessary.

China’s situation was more or less the same: unable to intervene, but certainly unwilling to give the Russians any kind of friendly face.

For athletes from every country, this was a tragedy. The Olympics were the highest level of sporting competition; if you could compete in even one in your lifetime, that was already remarkable. But now everything had been ruined, and this time there was no hope left.

The funniest part was that the next Games were to be held in the United States. No one knew whether the Russians would even hand the torch to the Americans.

In any case, the world was being forced to choose sides now. You were either a friend or an enemy. Clearly, there were not many countries supporting the Russians. This was a reckless move, and isolation was only to be expected.

The most bizarre Olympics of all time was about to be born. One thing was certain: it would be nothing more than self-amusement. The value of this Olympic title might well be the lowest in history.

To pull off such a stunt at this moment was simply thunder from a clear sky. Most countries had already finished their Olympic trials and were in full preparation. Then came the sudden announcement that nobody was allowed to play anymore, and those athletes were left miserable beyond words.

In this era, sports stars were far less glamorous than they would be in later generations.

Sky-high endorsement fees?

What was that?

It was only after the Olympics became commercialized in the mid-eighties that athletes’ market value was truly recognized.

For the athletes of this age, it was the darkest hour before dawn. Most regrettably, they had no chance to witness the light. No matter how outstanding you were, two Olympic appearances was basically the limit.

Jason Gao had finally returned, and a whole crowd headed for White Farm. William White was still tinkering with the game consoles, so Butler had gone to fetch the troublemakers.

“Butler, what’s William busy with?” Jason asked, his skin clearly tanned, grinning with a mouthful of white teeth.

“Young Master Gao, my young master is testing a game console. The launch presentation is just around the corner, so we can’t afford any delays.” Butler smiled broadly. Jason was hardly an outsider, and the two families were on excellent terms.

From far away, William White could already hear the noise of laughter and horseplay. Dressed in denim, he came out of the game room and watched the crowd making a scene.

After a bear hug and a round of greetings with the boys and girls, Jason said, “Boss, what kind of game did you come up with? Let us have a look.”

“Have a look, sure. I don’t mind giving you one. But before the presentation, absolutely no leaks.” William White said with a smile.

“Alright then, brothers, the boss says no talking outside. For the sake of our new toy, everybody knows what to do, right?”

“Relax, we know what matters. If word gets out early, the magic’s gone,” the group of prank-loving friends chattered.

Truthfully, William White did not care much, so long as no one intentionally spread it around. So many kids on the farm had already played it that absolute secrecy was a joke.

Besides, all he needed was to keep the mystery alive. It was not as though this was something unspeakable.

“Come on in, everyone. Spend an hour inside, and then I’ll welcome you properly.”

The boys and girls filed in one after another, and the long-quiet villa came alive again. The servants were bustling about too; with a gathering of this scale, a great deal had to be prepared in advance.

“Damn, so many consoles? They’re all the same?” Jason blurted out first.

“There are three games. Absolute classics. You won’t be disappointed.” William White held up three fingers and spoke with a thoroughly smug air.

“Tch. Whether they’re good or not, we’ll know once we’ve played. I’m a pro at tennis games.”

William White only smiled and said nothing. That faint air of pretension was infuriating enough to kill someone.

Though they were only two puzzle games and one massive tank battle, to the people of this era they were like thunder crashing from a clear sky.

“Damn, Tetris. This is seriously awesome, you know.”

“Tiger tank? Boss, are you planning to enter the German market? Damn, why did the game end already?”

Seeing Jason shout and holler like that, William White could only roll his eyes. You bombed your own base—what reason would there be for the game not to end?

“Listen, you just bombed your own base. You have to protect that first, and only then destroy the enemy.”

The girls naturally loved Tetris and Pac-Man, playing them with great delight. As for Tank Battle, the boys crowded around it in droves.

“Boss, no way, I’m taking this one home. Nobody’s allowed to snatch it.”

“Fine. After the presentation, I’ll give it to you.” William White genuinely did not care about these things. They were valuable, certainly, but that was beside the point. Production cost and selling price were two very different matters.

His few games really could crush everything else. The people who had come today were all from well-off families, and if even they were this excited, one could only imagine the reaction of the bumpkins outside.

Checking the time, William White said, “Come on. Eat first, then play. We’ve got plenty of time. Go freshen up, and then we’ll have a feast.”

Though they still wanted to keep playing, thinking there were a few days left anyway, the group finally stopped dawdling.

The advantage of the farm was its size. Never mind a dozen people; it could house several hundred without difficulty.

The group went to the guest rooms, while William White sat in the banquet hall sipping a little wine. A glass of red before dinner had become his habit; it was indeed healthier than coffee.

A Texas feast was not something you expected to be delicate. Even in a rich man’s home, it was the same. Since there were quite a few girls present, an extra fruit salad had been added today.

Usually there would be only a vegetable salad, followed by a parade of heavy dishes. His household was already considered quite decent, at least offering a few staple foods, and the portions were not quite so terrifying.

Under normal Texas standards, a single plate of steak could knock a person flat; the rest of the dishes need not even be considered.

Since this was not an official banquet, the girls did not dawdle for long. In about thirty minutes, everyone had arrived.

That time was indeed necessary. A woman like that could not go out without makeup; there was no such thing as natural beauty here.