Welsh Wild Goat

As night fell, Nine Elms was brightly lit. The American Empire Embassy was surrounded by police and counter-terrorism forces, helicopters circled overhead, and even infantry fighting vehicles began to enter the area.

Meanwhile, outside the defensive line, large numbers of people were watching the melons with great enthusiasm.

Although this wasn't the first time the embassy had been besieged—for example, after the kneeling death of a black man in the American Empire States sparked riots, the Britain people, who love equality and democracy, gathered in front of the embassy to protest and chant slogans—how could the weak and scattered shouts of a few thousand people compare to the current cacophony of voices, the deafening drumbeats, the high spirits of everyone present, and the joyful smiles on every face?

Black and white people smile and high-five, Middle East Easterners and Philippines share popcorn, and even white England are excitedly discussing the inside story with a France who has just arrived. In short, the great United States of Amerikkka, with its unique national charm, has fostered the great unity of the people of the world.

One world, one kind of happiness.

Countless faces, different races and nationalities, and even languages need not be mutually intelligible; a casual glance and an involuntary, radiant smile are all it takes for human joy to be shared.

Tonight, smiles have taken on two meanings.

--Hey buddy, you're here to join the fun too?

-- American Empire, you've finally met your match.

Human happiness is so simple and pure.

The world has suffered under the influence of America for far too long.

Moreover, the Britain people have lived under the Shadow of terrorist attacks for years. They were bombed by the Ireland in the past, and now they are bombed by the Middle East. The former is one thing, but the latter makes them extremely unhappy. Now that the terrorists have finally "found their real target", the Britain people are all thinking of happy things.

"You're famous now."

In the ambassador's office on the top floor of the embassy, "Ian" was scrolling through Twitter on his phone. Although the United Kingdom had cut off internet access in the area, he could still log on to the internet via the internal network.

This phone belongs to Woody, the US ambassador to the UK. This prisoner is a billionaire, a Trump benefactor and crony, and even has A Chuan's private number on the phone.

Upon seeing this, Kang De immediately instructed Horus to send a message to the American Empire president's private cell phone, "A Chuan! Let's take the Lolita Express!"

He then posted a message using the ambassador's Twitter account.

"If this tweet is retweeted over 100,000 times, I will publicly release the lewd chat logs between Ambassador Woody and American Empire President A Chuan, as well as photos of them engaging in prostitution together!"

Three minutes later, the anger across the ocean manifested as a roar on Twitter.

"FAKE-NEWS!"

Not long after, the ambassador's account was Twitter.

While gleefully fanning the flames, Kang De's voice echoed in Ian's ears, "Yes, you're famous. Your name is all over Twitter, and lots of people have taken your picture."

Ian had already seen it. After all, after rushing out of Military Intelligence Section 5 headquarters, he shouted and fired shots into the air, even yelling his own name. Pedestrians and drivers on the road heard it, and the news spread first. Or rather, the Britain government did not stop the news from spreading at all.

The policies of cybersecurity and intelligence agencies are precise and cautious—their primary focus and concern is on superpowers; the more other topics discussed, the better.

They were eager for the media and the public to dig up every detail of Ian's experiences and life. They even guided the public to discuss why an MI5 agent would have such exaggerated combat capabilities. Related memes sprang up like mushrooms after rain. Some were amazed that 007 was actually a documentary film, while others made memes to mock the United States Marine Corps for being pathetic. After all, it is an age of entertainment to the death.

While netizens were making fun of MI6, they were also discussing Ian's motives, imagining a plot like a blockbuster movie, and even speculating about the American Empire reaction—as for the story behind it all, nobody cared.

Fueled by this momentum, Ian Crook's name has soared to the top of the trending searches.

Ian had his eye on the related tweets, news, and discussions.

He didn't even have the strength to despair.

Just hours before, he was a senior Military Intelligence Section 5 officer with a happy family, a smooth career, and a respectable social standing. He was both proud and content, loved his life and work, loved his country, and considered himself a defender of Scotland glory.

But in the blink of an eye, everything changed.

He suffered a terrible accident, his secret operation was exposed to the public, and he was made a scapegoat, almost losing everything he had. In his moment of despair, a demon descended, saving his life but also taking control of his body. Like a walking corpse, he watched helplessly as he obeyed the whispers of the demon in the shadows, seized a gun, killed, stormed out of Military Intelligence Section 5, raided the American Empire embassy, and kidnapped the ambassador...

Step by step.

The kidnapping of the ambassador, the commotion, the insults against his superiors, and the threats against the prime minister are now common knowledge. The people outside the embassy and people from all over the world on the internet all know who orchestrated all of this.

In just a few hours, he went from being a fugitive to a globally notorious terrorist.

He didn't even know what the demon's purpose was in doing this.

He pleaded, but was ignored; he struggled, but only faced more brutal suppression. He tried to resist their ferocity and cruelty, but it was all in vain. Sometimes he felt like it was a nightmare, and sometimes he wished he had just drowned in that trough. But the reality was that he couldn't even die. They didn't care about his protests, didn't ask for his opinion, and didn't care about his life.

He asked numbly, "Why are you doing this to me?"

The demon laughed, "How have I treated you? You not only have superpowers now, but you've also become famous. People from all over the world regard you as a hero. Countless United Kingdom think you're incredibly awesome. You've accomplished so much in your life, it's not in vain. Terrorists all over the world have to admit you're an expert."

Completely despondent and unable to control his body, Ian managed to detach himself and observe the situation with a detached perspective. After calming down, his mind became much sharper than before. Freed from the constraints of his physical body, he was able to calmly and objectively consider the causes and consequences, as well as some incomprehensible and inexplicable coincidences.

"The car crash at Palace of Westminster..." he murmured, "Was it your doing?"

The devil laughed mockingly.

Ian suddenly erupted in rage. "You monster! You were up to no good! Look what you've done! You've ruined my life! My innocent family is going to be dragged down with you!"

The surging emotions turned into rolling flames of anger, but it was all in vain.

The demon's tone remained completely unchanged.

He said, "Oh."

Ian paused for a moment, then his rage intensified. He was furious that this terrifying and inexplicable demon had ruined his life, but his greater anger stemmed from the fact that the demon seemed completely indifferent and unconcerned about it.

He was furious, but no matter how much he roared and howled, he couldn't harm the demon in the slightest. After venting his anger, he was filled with despair and dejection, and his voice was almost choked with sobs.

"I... my wife, my daughter, they are innocent, they know nothing. I'm only thirty-five years old. I've studied diligently since I was a child, I've always tried my best, I..."

The demon said calmly, "Who cares?"

Ian let out a beast-like howl, but it eventually turned into a desperate sob.

He had realized that the other man was a pure demon, devoid of human morality. Moral condemnation could not touch his conscience in the slightest. He was so helpless, so pitiful. No one listened to his pleas for help, no one could help him, and even until his death, no one knew his story and his suffering—they would only know that an executioner named Ian Crook had done all of this.

He was utterly depraved, so he deserved to die.

The United Kingdom murmured, "Why? Why me? Why are you doing this to me?"

"That's a problem."

The demon said calmly, "Figure out the answer yourself; perhaps there's still hope."

Ian paused for a moment.

Immediately afterwards, "Ian" logged into his Twitter account on his phone, and his follower count skyrocketed. The number of replies to his previous tweets also increased dramatically. He then posted a tweet.

"Hey everyone, this is Ian. The great Mr. Woody is sprawled on the table like the blonde he slept with in Trump Tower, and now an M2 heavy machine gun is pressed against the Ambassador's rear door..50 caliber, still warm from the gunpowder. For every 500 comments, this machine gun advances one millimeter. Don't you think this idea is pretty cooooool?"

The number of comments increased noticeably, and the replies that were pushed to the top of the list were filled with joy.

"I love you, man," the guy, who was from Iraqa, wrote. "Just do it!"

Immediately following this, "Ian" posted another tweet. "Long live Ireland independence! Long live Scotland independence!"

Just as he was about to send the third message, the furious Prime Minister called, "Stop! Ian! This isn't what we agreed on! We're trying our best to suppress the impact, you can't do this!"

"Of course it's different, Mr. Prime Minister, I've suddenly changed my mind."

Grand Secretary Yue was taken aback, then roared in fury, "What? What the hell are you talking about?"

"Ian" said coldly, "To be honest, I don't trust you, nor do I really trust the Round Table. You say the Round Table will accept me, but that's just talk... I need a promise."

What trick are you going to pull this time?

Grand Secretary Yue was already furious with AWSL's customer service, and he'd already gotten a lot of frustration from the Round Table incident. Now, he was being targeted by Ian, as if the whole world was against him. How could he possibly tolerate this?

He said sternly, "Ian, Military Intelligence Section 5's treatment of you was indeed wrong. It was our mistake, and I apologize for it. I'm willing to seek your forgiveness, but you need to understand the current situation!"

"--Now I'm the one connecting the Round Table, instructing various departments to develop plans and mitigate the impact, fighting for a way out for you and your family. You should be grateful to me! I am the Prime Minister of the United Kingdom, one of the most powerful people in this country! What gave you the illusion that you can bargain with me!?"

"Ian" sneered, "A politician's benevolence is the most deceptive joke, and your words are the least believable, sir. Don't forget where I work..."

"And indeed, I can negotiate with you."

Grand Secretary Yue. was furious, but he laughed coldly. He lowered his voice and said, "Don't think that just because you've joined the Round Table you can be so disrespectful to me... Ian, the Round Table is not omnipotent."

"I don't have that illusion, but Prime Minister, now I can do whatever I want."

"Ian" said calmly, "For example, if I were to announce right now that I can release the United States ambassador, I can release everyone in the embassy, I won't harm anyone, I will surrender unconditionally, as long as the Britain government agrees to one condition—otherwise I will immediately go on a killing spree."

"None of the United States in the embassy will survive."

"The greatest terrorist attack of this century will occur in London tonight, becoming a permanent disgrace that will shake the world, affect Anglo-American diplomatic relations, damage Britain's international reputation, and bring you utter shame."

What do you think?

Grand Secretary Yue gritted his teeth as he listened. "... What conditions?"

"Ian" replied, "News photography, media documentation, global live broadcasts..."

The golden retriever retorted firmly, "Don't even think about it! Concealing the superhuman incident is a consensus among governments worldwide, including the United States! We all know which has a greater impact: the loss of over a thousand lives or the exposure of superhuman abilities!"

"No, you've got it wrong. It's not a live announcement about the existence of supernatural forces."

What will you be streaming?

"Ian" said calmly, "Live your live stream of you having sex with a goat, a Wales wild goat, male only."

"..."

"..."

The atmosphere suddenly became quiet.

The next moment, a fierce storm raged, and obscure United States slang poured out as the Prime Minister viciously hurled insults, using every single swear word he had learned in Amerikkka since childhood.

"More than a thousand United States lives, a secret that could overturn the world order, the strong alliance between the United Kingdom and the United States, Britain's high international prestige... To save all of this, all you need is to pull a ram."

Ian's voice was unhurried. "What a bargain."

"Bullshit! Bullshit! Bullshit!"

"You don't think it's a good deal, do you?" the terrorist laughed. "But what you think doesn't matter. What matters is what the people think, what the Queen thinks, what the President of the America thinks. How they calculate the costs is their business. When they reach an agreement, you'll have to take your pants off. I guarantee that's politics."

The sound of Grand Secretary Yue's breathing was as low and deep as a bellows.

"If you don't want to have sex with a goat, I have another suggestion."

A long silence followed.

Then came a cold, chilling whisper, "Speak."

"My wife and daughter... I don't trust you. To prevent you from settling scores later, send them abroad immediately. At least they can be saved."

Grand Secretary Yue said coldly, "Where? United States? Canada? Australia?"

"Come on, Prime Minister, what difference does it make whether you send them there or keep them in the country? You should send them to a place where the environment and conditions are good enough, where your tentacles can't reach."

The Prime Minister scoffed, "What, you're going to Russia? What makes you think the Russia will accept your wife and children, risking a diplomatic conflict?"

"Yes, the Russia won't," the other person replied calmly. "So, I sent them to China."

Grand Secretary Yue scoffed, "China? Do you think the China would just accept it?"

"No, but I will get the China government to provide them with protection and assistance."

Ian's voice was well-controlled, trembling with a mixture of reluctance and affection. "For this, I need to do the China a favor—that's part of the condition."

Grand Secretary Yue frowned and asked, "What kind of favor?"

"The two China girls who went missing last night, considering the Viking Skull were silenced by them, I think they've most likely fallen into the hands of the Round Table. I heard the China government is looking for them, and Military Intelligence Section 5 has also been asked to assist in the investigation—but we all know this investigation will be fruitless."

"Ian" said calmly and in a deep voice, "But now there must be results— the Round Table must hand over the people as a personal gesture of goodwill, a gift, and a request to the China government in exchange for the safety of my wife and daughters."

The golden retriever was stunned for a moment before it understood the reasoning and logic behind it.

He said sullenly, "You're quick-witted."

I must say, that's definitely a good idea.

The politician's suspicions led him to ask, "How can I ensure you won't do anything wrong after your family is safe? After all, your family is your last concern."

The other party replied, "I can make an agreement with the China government, and you can be present... Furthermore, if I do something that causes irreparable damage, then even with the protection of the China people, you can still seek revenge against my family to the very end. I wouldn't be that unwise."

This convinced the golden retriever, who snorted, "Those two China girls are in the hands of the Round Table. You can talk to them yourself."

"No, you're the one who needs to negotiate; otherwise, what use are you?"

"Ian" said, "To the Round Table, I'm a newcomer begging to join and survive. I'm not in a position to negotiate with them. But Prime Minister, as one of the most powerful people in the country, you can put pressure on the Round Table. After all, as you said before, the Round Table isn't omnipotent... is it?"

Grand Secretary Yue said discontentedly, "If it were that easy, those two China girls would have boarded a plane and left Britain this morning! The Round Table has no intention of letting them go! They..."

That's your problem. I'll give you half an hour.

"Ian" is a heartless threat machine. "Either release them, or I'll rape the sheep. The choice is yours."

Then he hung up the phone.

At 10 Downing Street, the Prime Minister smashed things up in the room.

He roared, raged, and vented his anger, finally dialing the China with boundless hatred and fury, his eyes flashing with a deep-seated hatred.

--You must kill him! You absolutely must!

A few seconds later, the call was connected.

The Prime Minister had barely smiled when he heard a soft, mechanical female voice. "Welcome to AWSL Company. To pay, press 1; for tax exemption, press 2; to embrace free trade and open investment, press 3; to return cultural relics, press 4; to give you everything, press the hashtag key and you will be transferred to a live agent..."

Tonight, the Grand Chamberlain and the President of the United States became half-brothers.

"Demolish--that--"

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PS1: Update... Damn, this election is really full of twists and turns.

PS2: I hope that in a few years, ten or twenty years, our country's filmmakers can make a documentary, movie or TV series on the topic of this United States election... If it can really be made, that would be wonderful, wonderful.