New York, Hechingen Bank's North American branch.
"Mr. Jonathan! An important letter has arrived from headquarters. Please review it."
"Mm, bring it to me!"
Jonathan took the letter and examined the envelope.
"You may leave first. Until I give the order, no one is to enter."
"Yes, President."
Only after his subordinate had left did Jonathan carefully open the envelope and begin reading.
Before long, Jonathan's expression turned startled, even disbelieving. This was headquarters' decision? They had gone mad! How much money would they lose if they did this?
As for headquarters' risk assessment, Jonathan did not quite believe it. Judging by America's current situation, he felt its economy had only just begun. Though American society was somewhat chaotic in terms of public security, black and red were both still red; chaos could likewise spur economic vitality. At the very least, it showed that local policies were highly permissive. Just like how those Italians ran black-market industries in America, they could still create value for American society.
Take the American addicts of his previous life, for example. The market they generated supported at least a million Mexicans and made an enormous contribution toward balancing trade between the United States and Mexico. Though drugs were immensely harmful, that did not prevent them from being an industry. Gray industries were industries too, and they had value all the same. That was inevitable under capitalism's market values.
Although most wealth was taken by a small minority, as long as it remained in the United States, it belonged to the United States. They were not fools. In America, money could solve ninety-nine percent of problems while also symbolizing social status. It was far more comfortable than staying in the Old Continent, where nobles were everywhere.
Still, although Jonathan did not understand it, he was