Who Exactly Is the Truly Stupid One? (Extra for FFF Regiment Chief, 4/12)

Washington was the capital of politics, and everything here revolved around politics. Politics permeated every aspect of the city, and every single person.

Without the slightest exaggeration, every industry here existed because of politics. In this city, anyone lacking a political instinct had a bleak future even if they were only looking for a job.

Linderman arrived in northwest Washington with a new assignment. The Wakandan Embassy was located there.

Although Wakanda was an agricultural country, its embassy was quite beautifully built. As expected, a poor country did not necessarily mean its king was poor as well.

For a king who indulged in such extravagance, this was good news for completing his mission.

The embassy was bordered by Van Ness Avenue to the north, International Street to the west, and International Road and Central Park to the south. The exterior walls were made of French limestone with an elegant color and fine texture, blending in with the many federal limestone buildings in the Washington area.

Beside the solemn white archway stood a guard holding a spear on either side. They wore Wakanda’s distinctive national clothing, which, judging by its appearance, seemed to be some kind of battle armor.

Linderman secretly laughed. This is the twenty-first century. What good is a lousy spear going to do?

However, years of political training kept him from showing the slightest trace of contempt. He went to the embassy entrance, politely introduced himself to the guards, explained his purpose, and requested to see Wakanda’s ambassador.

After waiting patiently for a while, he was smoothly escorted into the embassy, where he met Ambassador Trabbi, a sturdy middle-aged black man.

Compared with the savage native warriors outside, Ambassador Trabbi was much more civilized. At the very least, he was wearing a suit and had properly tied his tie.

"It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ambassador Trabbi. My name is Linderman, and I’ve come on behalf of Federation congressman Mr. Manville Lincoln."

"It’s a pleasure to meet you as well, Mr. Linderman. May the Panther God protect you."

The two exchanged diplomatic pleasantries for quite some time before Linderman finally got to the point.

"Mr. Lincoln is also a black man. He has always devoted himself to improving the social status of black people within the Federation, and he is equally enthusiastic about supporting and advancing the industrialization of African countries. Dozens of African nations have already benefited from Mr. Lincoln’s efforts."

"Mr. Lincoln is truly a noble gentleman. The Panther God will bless him." Ambassador Trabbi smiled as he offered his blessing, but he did not take the initiative to ask anything.

Linderman had no choice but to explain, "Mr. Lincoln has heard that Wakanda is an agricultural country with an extremely weak industrial foundation. He therefore wishes to help Wakanda integrate into the world and become an industrialized, civilized nation."

"Oh, is that so? Then what exactly should we do?" Ambassador Trabbi did not seem particularly interested in the matter.

"A country’s development cannot be separated from the utilization of various mineral resources. Mr. Lincoln has decided to send several teams of prospectors to your country to conduct comprehensive geological surveys of Wakanda and determine the distribution of mineral resources beneath its soil. He will then help you build smelters, chemical plants, machinery factories, power stations, and other forms of infrastructure."

"Ah, then what will we need to pay?" Ambassador Trabbi asked indifferently.

"Nothing at all! This is purely charitable aid! All you need to do is cooperate with the prospectors’ research activities," Linderman answered generously.

"Hmm…" Ambassador Trabbi began to ponder.

"Your Excellency, what is there to consider? If you have any concerns, you may as well state them openly. I’ll explain everything to you in detail," Linderman asked curiously.

Trabbi glanced at him and thought, Do you think I’m going to tell you that I’m figuring out how to find an excuse to reject you?

"Mr. Linderman, please convey our gratitude for Mr. Lincoln’s goodwill. However, our people currently live in abundance and peace, and we have no need to pursue industrialization."

"…Please forgive my bluntness, but I don’t think your people’s lives can be considered abundant. Your Excellency, you’ve lived in Washington for quite some time, haven’t you? Compared with a major industrialized city like Washington, don’t you feel that life in your country is somewhat dull and monotonous?"

"Mr. Linderman, Wakanda is an agricultural country. We don’t lack food, and under the wise leadership of His Majesty T’Chaka, every citizen has enough to eat. Unlike your country, where people often starve to death, no one in Wakanda has ever starved to death."

Ambassador Trabbi proudly lifted his chin, a faint smile hanging from the corners of his mouth as he continued in a condescending tone:

"Although the material life in industrialized cities is indeed quite good, most of their people are spiritually empty and need to use alcohol, promiscuity, drugs, and the like to fill their hollow hearts. But we don’t. The people of Wakanda believe in the Panther God, and their lives are fulfilling and happy!"

What fulfilling and happy lives? Why not just say you use religion to brainwash them and be done with it?

Linderman was speechless for a moment. He reorganized his thoughts and continued persuading him. "Your Excellency, although everything is peaceful in your country right now, if Wakanda does not industrialize, how will you respond if a foreign enemy invades?"

"We’re not worried about that in the slightest."

Ambassador Trabbi said smugly, "The countries around us are all wealthier than we are. They have absolutely no reason to invade a poor country. On the contrary, once we become wealthy, we’ll attract more greedy countries and organizations, which would only disrupt Wakanda’s peace."

Damn!

You’ve actually managed to find a sense of security in being poor!

Linderman was speechless again. Where had Wakanda found such an exceptional ambassador? How had his entire worldview become so twisted?

"For such an important matter, shouldn’t Your Excellency discuss it with His Majesty T’Chaka?"

Linderman planned to bypass this idiot of an ambassador and speak directly with their king. He refused to believe that if the ambassador was stupid, the king would be just as stupid.

Trabbi lowered his head and thought for a moment before saying, "You make a good point. I should report this to His Majesty."

"Then I’ll leave it to Your Excellency. Here is my contact information. I keep my phone on twenty-four hours a day, and His Majesty King T’Chaka can call me at any time." Linderman handed Trabbi his business card with a broad smile.

Before taking his leave, he habitually asked one more question. "Your Excellency, approximately how long will it take His Majesty T’Chaka to reply?"

"Oh, Wakanda doesn’t have telephones or the internet, so it might take a little longer," Trabbi said casually.

Linderman suddenly had a bad feeling. He pressed on, "How long is ‘a little longer,’ approximately?"

"My term ends at the end of next year, and I’ll be returning home to report on my duties. I’ll tell His Majesty T’Chaka about this matter then."