Chapter 720: Mr. President, All You Need to Do Is Sign

That night, Wilson received three special guests at the White House.

Jieke Mogen sat on the sofa, a glass of whiskey in his hand, legs crossed. He is the head of the Morgan Group, Meilika's most powerful banker. His father, Old Morgan, once single‑handedly rescued Meilika's financial crisis; now his goal is to make Meilika the world's financial hub.

Yuehan Luokefei'er Ershi sat opposite Morgan, a glass of red wine in his hand, looking relaxed. He is the heir of the Luokefei'er Group, Meilika's wealthiest oil magnate. His father, Old Luokefei'er, founded the Standard Oil empire; what he intends is to extend that empire's reach worldwide.

Fulan Ke Fande Lipu stood by the window, back to everyone, smoking a cigar. He is the chairman of Citibank, the godfather of Meilika's financial world. He dislikes speaking, but every word he says is worth ten thousand spoken by others.

Wilson sat behind his desk, looking at the three men.

They are Meilika's true rulers.

Congressmen listen to them, newspaper editors listen to them, judges listen to them, and even I, the President, was placed here by them.

"Gentlemen," Wilson began, "have you all read that agreement?"

Mogen nodded.

"Read it. Yingguo has really laid out a fortune this time."

Luokefei'er smiled.

"The dollar becoming an international currency—Mogen, you must be laughing even in your dreams, right?"

Mogen also smiled.

"Laugh awake? I didn't sleep last night. I've been pondering how to settle this account."

He stood up, walked to the window, and stood shoulder‑to‑shoulder with Fande Lipu.

"Mr. President, do you know what this means?"

Wilson nodded.

"I know. With the dollar as an international currency, Meilika can use a money‑printing machine to buy the world's resources."

Mogen shook his head.

"Not just that. It's not that simple."

He turned to look at Wilson, light flashing in his eyes.

"When the dollar becomes an international currency, it means the whole world must use the dollar. Central banks will hold dollar reserves, international trade will settle in dollars, cross‑border investment will be priced in dollars. Then Meilika can—"

He paused, as if searching for the right word.

"... just lie back and collect money."

Fande Lipu finally spoke. His voice was hoarse, yet each word hammered into the board like a nail.

"Mr. President, do you know why I support sending troops?"

Wilson looked at him.

Fande Lipu exhaled a puff of smoke.

"Because war is the best business. If Yingguo wins, we feast; if Yingguo loses, we have to drink the northwest wind."

He walked back to the sofa and sat down.

"Moreover, think about it: if Yingguo loses and Deguo wins, will they acknowledge the dollar's international status? No. They'll use the Mark, their banks, their financial system. Then we won't scoop up a single cent."

Mogen nodded.

"Fande Lipu is right. Helping Yingguo is helping ourselves."

Luokefei'er also spoke.

"Mr. President, you still have one concern—Lanfang."

Wilson looked at him.

Luokefei'er continued, "You worry about a direct clash with Lanfang. But consider, if we help Yingguo win in Europe, how long can Lanfang hold out in Yazhou? They rely on Deguo and the Sakura Nation. If Deguo loses, the Sakura Nation fights alone. Then Lanfang will either sue for peace or be crushed by us."

Wilson was silent for a few seconds.

"Luokefei'er, you have never been to Yazhou. You don't know how strong Lanfang is now."

Luokefei'er smiled.

"Mr. President, even if they're strong it's only temporary. They have industry; we have oil. They have armies; we have gold. They have four Bismarck Class ships; we have— we can build ten."

He stood up and walked to Wilson's side.

"Mr. President, your worry isn't Lanfang's army, it's Lanfang's navy. But a navy can be built. If Meilika runs its industrial machines at full speed, building ten battleships a year, we can surpass Lanfang in two years."

Wilson looked at him, saying nothing.

Mogen walked to his side.

"Mr. President, we know you have reservations. But think, a hundred years from now, how will history books write? Will they say President Wilson hesitated at the crucial moment and missed the chance for Meilika to become the world leader? Or will they say President Wilson was visionary and decisive, leading Meilika to glory?"

Wilson was silent.

The three stared at him, awaiting his answer.

After a long while, Wilson finally spoke.

"We can send troops. But there is one condition."

Mogen's eyes lit up: "What condition?"

"Meilika will not fight Lanfang directly. We'll handle Europe; Yingguo will handle Asia on its own."

Mogen thought for a moment, then nodded.

"Fine. After all, Lanfang is in Yazhou, across the Pacific Ocean; they can't strike us in a short time."

Fande Lipu also nodded.

"Agreed. Settle Europe first, then consider Yazhou."

Luokefei'er spoke last.

"Mr. President, that's settled then. We'll take care of Congress, we'll take care of the media. All you need to do is—"

He paused.

"Sign."

November 26, 10 a. m.

Asquius entered the oval office again.

This time, Wilson's attitude had completely changed.

He sat behind the desk, a smile on his face, but that smile was far more sincere than yesterday's.

"Prime Minister, Meilika is willing to dispatch troops."

Asquius's eyes lit up.

"How many?"

Wilson extended a single finger.

"At least one million."

Asquius was stunned. One million. One million Meilika soldiers. Enough to tip the balance of the entire European battlefield.

But before he could rejoice, Wilson added another sentence.

"But there is one condition."

"What condition?"

"Meilika will not fight Lanfang directly. The Yazhou matter, you resolve yourselves. Meilika's battlefield is in Europe."

Asquius was silent for a few seconds.

He recalled George V's words before departure: "No matter the cost, Meilika must send troops."

No matter the cost.

He nodded.

"Agreed."

Wilson looked at him, then suddenly asked.

"Prime Minister, do you know why I insist on not fighting Lanfang?"

Asquius shook his head.

Wilson stood up and walked to the huge world map on the wall. He pointed toward the Pacific, his finger lightly touching the deep‑blue expanse.

"Because Meilika's navy now has no chance at all against Lanfang's navy."

Asquius stepped beside him.

"Mr. President, Lanfang has only four Bismarck Class ships. Meilika has sixteen battleships—"

"Sixteen ships?" Wilson interrupted, "Half of the sixteen you mentioned are in the Atlantic, the other half in the Pacific. Moreover, do you know what the fire‑control radar of a Bismarck Class is?"