Becoming the Wealthiest Tycoon on the Planet

When William called him the unluckiest president, Benjamin felt a pang of gloom. But after hearing William suggest he might be "kissed by God," he thought about it and realized it might actually be true. 

Within just months of taking office, he'd already faced an inside-outside collusion that led to an attack on the White House, barely escaping thanks to Michael Banning, that "Spartan Emperor," who risked his life to save him.

A few months later, there was another incident in England where all three Marine One helicopters were taken down, forcing him to pay an astronomical fee to get William to rescue him.

And now, less than a month after returning to the U.S., he was targeted by a sniper. Damn, Benjamin suddenly realized he really might be the unluckiest president in history.

As for the idea of being "kissed by God," he didn't quite believe it, though he couldn't deny his extraordinary luck.

A police report crackled in Banning's earpiece. He turned on the speaker, and they all heard, "Attention all units, suspect is Bob Lee Swagger. Repeat, suspect is Bob Lee Swagger."

Both Banning and Benjamin stared at William in shock—his prediction was spot on. The police had identified Bob Lee Swagger as the shooter.

"Hmph, some people chose the wrong scapegoat," William said with a mocking smirk. "They picked someone who's an expert at escaping. Certain people are bound to be disappointed."

Banning glanced at his watch, shaking his head in disagreement. "Even without Philadelphia police, FBI and special agents are all hunting Swagger. In less than twenty minutes, all exits from the city will be sealed. He's not getting out."

"How about we make a bet?" William proposed.

"No way. Not the time for bets," Benjamin immediately refused, because for some inexplicable reason, he trusted William's prediction that Swagger might indeed escape Philadelphia.

The sound of helicopter rotors approached, and William glanced at his watch with a satisfied smile. "Well, looks like Philly PD is really efficient—only five minutes after we got in the car, and they're almost on-site. Congratulations, Benjamin! Under your leadership, Philadelphia's police force now has the fastest response time in the world."

"Huh?" Benjamin and Banning were both taken aback by his remark. Banning thought it over, then explained to Benjamin, "Based on my experience, even in D.C., unless there's already a helicopter patrolling the skies, it's impossible for them to arrive in less than five minutes. Mr. President, these guys arrived suspiciously fast."

"Someone's clearly eager to silence Swagger to cover things up," William said pointedly to Benjamin, whose expression turned suspicious. "Benjamin, don't forget, you and I were posing for photos just then. In a few seconds, we'd have shifted positions slightly. 

"No sniper would fire under those conditions because it takes four to five seconds for a bullet to reach its target.

"And second, as far as I know, last month Swagger helped MI6 take down a Sicilian mob boss from a distance of about 1,300 meters with a single shot. It doesn't make sense that he'd miss today and accidentally kill an archbishop nobody cares about."

"So you're saying I was being used?" To William's surprise, Benjamin seemed relieved. "Thank goodness it wasn't Amir Bakawi. Otherwise, I'd be in for another sleepless night."

"You're not even angry that someone in your own ranks used you as a cover?" William asked, surprised.

"Would being angry change anything?" Benjamin sighed, pressing a button to grab a cola from the car's mini-fridge and taking a few sips. "What I don't understand is why someone would want to kill Archbishop Desmond. He's just an Ethiopian."

"Who knows?"

From the moment William had recognized this scene as a setup inspired by the movie Shooter, he'd known why they wanted Desmond dead—and even that the mastermind behind the plot was Senator Charles Meachum from Montana.

But William had no obligation to tell Benjamin any of this. Instead, he mischievously suggested, "Have you recently had any disputes with certain people or groups? Maybe you were the intended target, and they just hired an incompetent shooter who ended up killing Desmond by mistake."

It was just a random comment, but it planted a real seed of suspicion in Benjamin's mind. He tightened his grip on the soda can, his gaze hardening. "I've only had three public appearances this month, and there's already been an incident at the first one. Hah, so I really don't have many people I can trust?"

"Haven't you already figured that out yourself?" William said slyly. "At the very least, the timing and security arrangements of your trips were clearly known by someone on the other side. And I don't need to spell out how high up that information would go."

Benjamin pondered this quietly. He hadn't thought too much about it before, but after hearing William's remarks, he began considering that his recent clashes with certain defense contractors might be the cause. 

He knew full well how ruthless American defense contractors could be. He now had to confirm if this sniper incident was orchestrated by them, or else he risked making politically disastrous decisions in the future.

As he thought it over, his gaze drifted to William, who was casually sipping whiskey. After weighing the pros and cons, he finally asked, "What would I need to pay you to get your help investigating this incident?"

"Heh, Mr. President, you still haven't paid me for the last job. Why would I trust your credibility now?"

Finally, William had managed to steer Benjamin in the direction he wanted. Trying to contain his excitement, he added, "It's been nearly a month since you agreed to my fee, and this is hardly how a partner should behave."

Benjamin shook his head helplessly at William's greed. Five hundred million dollars was an astronomical sum. Even as president, he couldn't just issue that amount in cash or assets; otherwise, he'd immediately face an aggressive investigation from his opposition. 

At the time, Vice President Truman Bull had only agreed to the deal out of necessity, prioritizing Benjamin's rescue and assuming they'd figure out how to renege later if needed. After all, it wouldn't be the first time they'd broken a promise.

Now that Benjamin was safe, however, he had to consider the political ramifications differently than the vice president.

After a moment of thought, Benjamin said, "If I were to sell Amir Bakawi's assets in London to you at a low price, not only would I face questioning from the opposition, but you'd also be scrutinized and obstructed. Perhaps we could take another approach."

"Go on, Mr. President." William hadn't quite understood this initially, but the Americans dragging out payment for nearly a month had made things abundantly clear to him by now.

"Maybe I could, in both public and private appearances, subtly endorse your company's bulletproof vests. When the timing is right, I could even recommend them to Congress and the military for purchase. How does that sound to you?"

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