Chapter 66 Changes in All Parties

Stopping the reporters who wanted to rush in, Saliev, who had just been employed for less than half a day, walked out of the club gate with five or six assistants.

"Let them come here." Saliev cleared his throat and said to the intersection.

Hula-la--

A group of reporters rushed forward like crazy, with microphones in their hands that looked like irons, and poked straight at Saliev's face.

The security behind him stepped forward to form a human wall, easily stopping the reporters.

The bodyguards who are currently in charge of security around the club are all the most outstanding members of the training camp, and each of them is not inferior to the special forces in terms of physical fitness.

Of course, in terms of physical fitness, these rookies are still far behind if they really do it, but it is still easy to stop a group of reporters.

"Please keep calm, everyone. I will answer your questions. Now, please keep quiet." Under Saliev's yelling and security interception, the reporters finally fell silent.

Saliev glanced at the reporters under the steps, focusing on the badges on their chests, pointed to the reporter of the "Chicago Tribune" and said, "Please ask."

"Hello, what is the current situation of Mr. Charlie Lee? Why did gunmen assassinate him? Is his property inherited?"

The reporter who was named was very excited, and he opened his mouth to ask a series of questions. If he hadn't seen the movement of Saliev's palm, he would have wanted to continue asking.

"Each reporter is limited to one question. Secondly, please allow me to introduce myself. My name is Saliev, and I am the chief lawyer of the legal department of the Blue and White Chamber of Commerce.

Reporters, please pay attention to your own remarks. I only represent BOSS and reserve the right to pursue any insulting, malicious speculation, or offensive remarks. "

Seeing everyone's disapproval, Saliev did not reiterate, but said calmly: "For your question, all I can answer is that the boss is very good."

"Please ask," Saliev said, pointing to another New York Times reporter.

"Mr. Saliev, what is the source of Charlie Li's wealth?" The other party's question was very tricky. Instead of paying attention to the shooting, he asked Li Zitao about the source of his wealth.

They didn't pay much attention to this Chinese national before, and they even dismissed the 'shocking' headlines of those tabloids, 'Hua is rich, what are you kidding, haha...'

But since he threw 20 million US dollars in Hollywood, everyone really realized that this young man who was dubbed "the richest man in China" might really be rich beyond compare.

The outside world has been speculating on this issue. Even people who know Li Zitao also want to know the source of his wealth. So far, only club members know the truth.

"All the sources of property of BOSS are reasonable and legal." Saliev responded forcefully: "If you have any questions, please consult the relevant government departments."

As for which department is the relevant department, they need to find out the answer by themselves.

"Does Mr. Charlie Lee have a will?" asked the Los Angeles Times reporter.

"Boss has no physical problems and is actively receiving treatment." Saliev's complexion was a little ugly, which made the reporters more firm in their previous speculation.

Li Zitao's current situation must be so bad that his men can't wait to clarify, 'Do we look like idiots? '

"Is this assassination related to Luciano's bizarre death?" asked a reporter from the New York Post.

"Of course it doesn't matter. BOSS is a passionate, honest, and kind-hearted businessman. How could he have anything to do with the notorious mafia?" Saliev waved his hand indifferently.

"Mr. Saliev, may I ask whether Mr. Charlie Lee's wealth is related to the stock market crash?" The Wall Street Journal reporter.

Wow——

The reporters were in an uproar.

Recalling the information about Li Zitao, I suddenly discovered that this possibility is extremely high, and his wealth is very likely to come from the stock market crash.

"I've already answered this question, next one." Saliev pointed to the last one with his expression unchanged.

"Mr. Saliev, hello, I am a Times reporter from country Y. I would like to ask, what is the relationship between Mr. Charlie Lee and the Capone Group?"

Wow——

There was another commotion, and everyone turned their heads to look at the young female reporter with a calm face. No one expected that the other party's question would be so sharp.

"I repeat, my BOSS, Mr. Charlie Lee is a law-abiding, passionate and benevolent American businessman, that's all, thank you."

Saliev turned around and left without looking back, letting the reporters behind him keep clamoring and asking sharp questions.

"Huh..." The hustle and bustle was blocked outside the gate, and Saliev wiped the sweat from his forehead, and walked quickly to the 'ward' on the second floor.

The two bodyguards standing in front of the door stepped aside, and Saliev pushed the door open, and saw Li Zitao leaning on the bedside, talking softly with Wang Dagou beside him.

"Boss, the matter has been settled." Saliev said respectfully.

When he came to the ward earlier and found that Li Zitao was fine, Saliev was still very excited, thinking, 'Finally, I don't have to worry about losing this high-paying job I just got. '

But then Li Zitao gave him a special 'job' to deal with the reporters below.

And specifically explained to him, "You must insist on the fact that I am out of danger and I am recuperating, but when answering questions, your complexion should become more gloomy."

In order to complete the task, Saliev performed in front of Li Zitao more than a dozen times before he got a satisfactory nod from him.

"I believe someone can't help but jump out soon." Li Zitao pulled the quilt and smiled while covering the bandage on his chest.

"Boss, you can't get too excited now, lest the wound burst." Mike, who had been sitting on the sofa, stood up, "Your visit time is too long."

Looking at Mike who was "entering the show" dumbfounded, Li Zitao could only nod helplessly, let Wang Dagou and Saliev go down, and told them to keep it a secret. '

That night in Chicago was turbulent. When more than a dozen surgical specialists from the United Hospital of Chicago entered the club under the personal escort of George, rumors arose.

"Have you heard? That Li from the East was assassinated by a gunman, and now he is on the verge of death."

"Really? How did I hear that he is already sober."

"How is it possible? Didn't you read the newspaper? It was just a lie made up by his subordinates to stabilize people's hearts..."

"Hey, buddy, someone just saw that the surgical experts from the United Hospital were invited to the club, that yellow monkey is going to die, haha..."

"Hi William, I heard your partner was shot..."

"Jevich, do you know about Lee's situation?"

"Nucky, Charlie is dying, what are your plans?"

"Samuel, I heard that your new boss is going to see God soon, haha..."

"Old man, maybe this is an opportunity..."

At the same time, Ace, which has just completed its reorganization, Bechtel, which has been acquired, and PepsiCo are also in panic.

The printing plants of the major newspapers they belonged to were running at full capacity, and the newspapers were out of stock that night. Apart from those with ulterior motives, there were also many melon eaters waiting for the news.

For them now, being able to see the loss of the 'miracle' is the happiest time after dinner, and this time it is a Chinese from the East.

"The yellow-skinned monkey should die." In the bad social environment, hatred of the rich is becoming the norm and gradually becoming distorted.

In Club No. 22, the phone rang continuously.

All the people in charge of the industries under Li Zitao's name called, including the owners of Ace, Pepsi, Bechtel, and McDonald's and Subway.

Followed by the head of the Hollywood Chamber of Commerce and the foundation, Mahathir, who has just finished the handover, said that he would come as soon as possible, and the new head, Aimo, also expressed his concern.

Calls from Samuel, Nucky, and Lawrence followed, followed by calls from First National Bank CEO, Aiken Wood, and his assistant, Edmund Pagana.

When they expressed their desire to visit in person, Ben politely refused on the grounds that Li Zitao needed to rest.

Next came a group of governors, congressmen, and mayors, Senator Jevich Damon of IL, Mayor of Chicago William Dever, and Chief of Police Grant Fuze.

California Governor Francis Edward, Senior Senator Clara Deanland, Los Angeles Mayor Carl Madsen, and Hollywood Mayor Emeritus Galio Trafford.

Governor Walter Gade of NJ (New Jersey), Rep. Sakhir Ricks, senior senator, and Nick Brady, who is running for vice president.

Paul Ricka, Second Master Mei of the Anliang Chamber of Commerce and Industry, and even Elan Sticknard also made a special call to express their concern.

And specifically explained that once Li Zitao wakes up, please send him a message immediately.

When Ben finally put down the phone and could no longer hear the harsh ringing, his mouth was bitter and his throat became hoarse.

Unknowingly, Li Zitao has been surrounded by such a network of relationships. Through these individuals, Ben seems to see a huge network that is continuous and intertwined.

"God, please keep the boss safe." Ben said silently in his heart.

jingle--

"Hello." Ben said in a hissing voice, frowning.

"I'm Major Eisenhower. How's Lee doing?" Dwight's calm and powerful voice made Ben straighten up.

"Mr. Major, the boss is out of danger and is currently undergoing active treatment. Thank you for your concern." Ben didn't know much about Eisenhower.

But he knew that the veterans of S.H.I.E.L.D. were sent by Dwight himself, and that the major also signed some kind of secret agreement with Li Zitao on behalf of the Ministry of War.

In addition, the way Dwight sent the veterans also left a deep impression on Ben.

After a moment of silence, Dwight said: "...I wish him a speedy recovery, and I will go see him."

"It's finally over." In the early morning, Ben dragged his tired body back home under the escort of two bodyguards.

"Joanna, I'm back." Ben left the leather bag on the table casually, untied his bow tie and threw his body on the sofa.

"Honey." Joanna came from the kitchen with a freshly brewed English black tea, and asked curiously, "Did something happen today?"

"Well, some work matters." Ben sat up straight and smiled. He was never willing to bring work matters home, even if his heart was in a mess at the moment.

"By the way, a lady who called herself Juliana called last night and said she had something to do with you." Joanna, who was pouring black tea, remembered the call.