Rich Hosea

Sure enough, Hosea, ever the pragmatist, walked into the room, his long strides purposeful. He looked at Dutch, who was lounging comfortably on the sofa, a self-satisfied smirk on his face. Hosea's gaze lingered on Dutch's face, then swept over his attire. "Oh, Dutch, I think you look like such an ass right now, man. So utterly pleased with yourself." He paused, a playful glint in his eye, then pointed a finger at Dutch's nose. "Damn it, you even put on glasses? What, are you suddenly a scholar?"

Hosea walked with a gentle, unhurried smile to the sofa in front of Dutch and settled down gracefully, his posture relaxed. He then picked up the expensive cigar Dutch had magnanimously taken out, rolling it between his fingers, examining its quality.

"Alright, Dutch, let me also experience the life of the upper class." Hosea chuckled, a low, knowing sound. He brought the cigar to his lips, inhaling deeply, and exhaled a long plume of white smoke. "Oh my, a cigar coated with a maiden's saliva, this is truly exciting, Dutch!" He teased, his eyes twinkling, clearly in a very good mood, even finding the leisure to jest.

"Click!" As the white smoke slowly drifted up, curling elegantly towards the ceiling, Hosea comfortably leaned back on the soft, plush sofa, a picture of contentment. He then picked up the cut-glass decanter of red wine next to him and poured himself a generous glass, the liquid gleaming like rubies, before speaking again, his voice thoughtful. "Alright, Dutch, this life is truly intoxicating. It has a powerful grip."

He took a slow sip of the wine, savoring it, then continued, his gaze distant, as if reflecting on their long journey. "I never thought that outlaws like us, men of the wild, could ever live such a life, so far removed from dust and danger. I think our wish of so many years, our impossible dream, has truly come true now, hasn't it?"

Listening to Hosea's words, which were surprisingly devoid of the usual warnings or criticisms, Dutch was a little taken aback, a flicker of genuine surprise in his eyes. He leaned forward slightly, his brows furrowing in unexpected discomfort. "Oh, Hosea, aren't you going to say something to me? Something… critical?"

"What?" Hosea asked, feigning confusion, his head tilted slightly to the side. He took another slow, luxurious sip of red wine, closing his eyes in sheer pleasure, drawing out the moment.

"Of course, it's this operation, man. This Saint Denis coup, the Annesburg takeover." Dutch straightened up from the sofa in genuine surprise, a look of uncharacteristic discomfort on his face. He gestured vaguely around the room. "Come on, this isn't like you, the Hosea I know wouldn't talk like this! Shouldn't you be questioning me about this crazy plan now? Demanding answers?"

Damn it, Dutch thought, a strange sense of unease creeping in, he didn't expect that one day Hosea wouldn't oppose him, wouldn't challenge his wildest schemes, and he would feel uncomfortable instead. It was almost unsettling.

Listening to Dutch's bewildered question, Hosea shook his head, a gentle, knowing smile on his face. "Why should I question you, Dutch? Under your leadership, we are already living such a wonderful, prosperous life, enjoying luxuries we never dreamed of. Why should I question it? The results speak for themselves."

"Ah! But Saint Denis, Mr. Cornwall… this, isn't this crazy? In your opinion!" Dutch exclaimed, spreading his hands wide, his palms open, pointing to the surrounding opulent scene strangely, as if seeking confirmation of its madness.

"It's crazy! Absolutely bonkers, Dutch!" Hosea readily agreed, a low chuckle escaping him. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his gaze meeting Dutch's. "But you've already led us to a good life, a life of comfort and power. We've enjoyed the benefits this craziness brings, experienced its rewards, so there's no longer any need to question the right or wrong of this particular madness. The ends, it seems, justify the means, at least for now." He paused, then sighed, a long, weary exhalation. "Listen, Dutch, I know I used to like to oppose your opinions, to argue with you and Arthur, but it's different now. Before, we could still participate in the planning process, debate the details, but now, we completely don't understand your plans. They are too vast, too complex for our simple minds."

Hosea shrugged, a gesture of resignation. "Our thoughts, our capabilities, simply can't keep up with yours anymore, Dutch. So questioning might also be a mistake, a futile exercise. Rather than that, it's better to just listen to you, to follow your lead, for better or worse." His voice dropped, becoming serious, earnest. "The only thing we need to pay attention to, the one thing I must ensure, is leaving a way out for these kids, for the future of our family. And I've already hidden fifty thousand dollars on Guarma, a substantial fallback. I think even if we mess up, even if everything goes to hell, we'll still have a way out, a chance to escape and restart!" Hosea concluded, his gaze firm, revealing his secret plan, his ultimate safeguard.

The most taboo thing for a gang, any close-knit group, is for everyone to hide their thoughts, their fears, their plans, from each other, which only adds to suspicion for no reason, breeds distrust. So Hosea, with his characteristic honesty, directly spoke his mind, laying bare his deepest concerns.

"Oh! Sh*t! This isn't the Hosea I know!" Dutch burst out, a booming laugh that filled the room, tinged with a genuine delight. He waved a dismissive hand, indicating his lack of concern. He didn't care about Hosea hiding money; it was most unlikely that Dutch himself wouldn't have a fallback plan, a contingency for every eventuality. He expected such foresight.

But he was very happy about Hosea's change, his newfound, albeit grudging, acceptance. At least now, Hosea wasn't like his portrayal in the game, where he opposed everything and then couldn't offer any useful, practical opinions, which was the most fatal flaw. It hurt their bond and was ultimately foolish, unproductive.

"People change, Dutch. You can constantly come up with brilliant, audacious ideas, leading us to unimaginable heights, and of course, I will also change my way of thinking, adapt to the new reality." Hosea sat up straight, his gaze fixed intently on Dutch, his face now full of a solemn, serious focus, the teasing gone. "But what should we do now, Dutch? Are we to sell arms directly? Or are there other things you've planned? I think we need to prepare to deal with those Easterners. Mr. Cornwall certainly won't let this go, not after what we've done, and those Eastern capitalists might also dislike us, might even despise us enough to act."

Dutch leaned back on the sofa, a picture of relaxed confidence, tapping the armrest with his fingers in a rhythmic, thoughtful gesture. He took a slow, deliberate puff of his cigar, exhaling a plume of fragrant smoke before speaking, his voice calm, assured. "Development, Hosea, our subsequent, overarching plan is relentless development. Growth is our ultimate weapon."

He paused, then continued, his words unfolding a grand strategic vision. "I have already meticulously sorted out the plans for all aspects of our growth, from infrastructure to industry, and I will have Arthur give them to you later, in full detail. New Hanover and Lemoyne have become our territory, in the true sense, our absolute domain. The United States is a federal country, and the United States Federal Government has no direct right to control us within our states, so those Eastern capitalists don't need to worry for now, Hosea. As long as we don't pose a real, existential interest crisis to them, directly threatening their core wealth, they won't and can't touch us. So we can develop with peace of mind, unhindered."

Dutch's eyes gleamed with a cunning light. "Besides, they all know that we have the Morgan Family's intentions here, their vast resources and influence, even if unseen, and I think if they are sensible enough, if they are rational, they won't have any ideas about us, any foolish notions of intervention."

He leaned forward, his voice gaining intensity. "However, no matter how much you think about these problems, how much you strategize, it's ultimately useless. Only by tirelessly developing our strength, by building our power base, can we truly deter them, truly ensure our security. Strength is the only language they understand."

"So next, I need to vigorously develop Valentine in New Hanover and even Saint Denis, pouring resources into them." Dutch gestured expansively, encompassing the unseen map of his growing empire. "First is road construction. As the old adage goes, 'to get rich, build roads first.' Only convenient, efficient transportation conditions can become the basis for flourishing commerce and allow the economy to flow freely, unimpeded. So, the roads in Lemoyne and New Hanover need to be completely renovated, modernized, which can also vastly expand the scale of workers we employ and allow more people to afford food, to prosper."

"In addition," Dutch continued, counting off on his fingers, "we must vigorously expand thermal power plants; energy is the fundamental foundation of all development, the engine of progress. Of course, it is also one of the lucrative channels for making money, a hidden goldmine."

"In addition, establish a high-tech research institute, a hub of innovation, expand the dock, expand the steel mill, explore and exploit resources tirelessly, unearthing the wealth beneath our feet…" Dutch's voice swelled with a grand, almost boundless ambition.

"Hosea, we need to build these two states into our ultimate trump card and basic stronghold. In this way, with the formidable existence of these two states, our own self-sufficient empire, we will be completely invincible, unassailable!" His final words were delivered with a powerful, decisive punch of his fist into his palm. "Of course, our firearms business also needs to start in earnest. We need to spread our firearms throughout Lemoyne and New Hanover within a month, making them ubiquitous, and then covertly smuggle them by water to Canada and Mexico. We need a continuous flow of money, a river of gold, and then use this money to buy a large amount of resources, fueling our growth!"

Dutch sat on the sofa, leaning back, and continuously discussed his ambitious future development plans with Hosea, his voice resonating with confidence. The more he spoke, the more stable Hosea's heart became, his initial apprehension slowly replaced by a dawning understanding and a profound sense of awe.

Damn it, Hosea thought, a slow, impressed smile spreading across his face, he had thought Dutch's plan was utterly crazy before, a reckless gamble, but now it seemed that this cunning guy might have already meticulously written down the entire subsequent development plan, every single detail, every contingency, even before taking the initial action!

This is like Captain America secretly practicing combos; on the surface, he can't lift the hammer, seemingly limited, but secretly, he's already mastered his combos, prepared for every challenge! The analogy perfectly captured Dutch's hidden genius.

A dizzying series of grand plans were formulated that afternoon, then swiftly placed on the Saint Denis council table, approved with astonishing speed and unanimous consent, and then immediately put into effect.

In the United States, a country with a famously slow, cumbersome separation of powers, where legislative processes often dragged on for months, no state has ever been able to pass decrees so quickly, with such pleasing, efficient progress, as it was now occurring in Saint Denis.

Of course, this efficiency was also one of the distinct advantages of centralized rule. Oh no, Dutch might inwardly correct himself with a wry smirk, that's wrong, this should be the undeniable advantage of the 'big iron stick' system, the power of brute force and undeniable coercion.

After all, if these council members were to pass things a little slower, if they dared to hesitate, the next second the 'big iron stick' would be swung decisively at them, a painful reminder of their new reality.

Under such compelling circumstances, who in their right mind would dare to delay? Who would dare to dissent? Compliance was swift and absolute.