Yorklemie looked at Chen Xu with peaked eyes like a mentor.

He had to admit one thing.

That's why even if he has an uncle mayor, even if he is older, he is still not as successful as the other party.

There is clearly a reason for all this.

For example, the needle now is for those factories that are in trouble.

How could he not have come up with such a genius-like idea.

That's right, it's a genius-like idea.

If it is a normal economic environment.

For the sake of profit, bring down a functioning factory and bring it down.

That awaits him will be a big trouble.

The unemployed worker, the pressure of public opinion, all this will become a point against him.

After all, people will always sympathize with the weak.

But in such a period of economic downturn, it is really necessary to bring down a factory.

There is no need to worry about this at all.

What is the difference between an unpaid worker and a career?

As for public opinion?

Do factories that owe workers wages deserve the sympathy of the population?

Of course not, because the population will only stand in the position of weaker objects, those who do not receive wages.

And those factories that are bankrupt will only become the target of crusades.

At this time, if 897 Guo has a person who can stand up and express his willingness to provide some jobs.

It's definitely a happy thing for everyone.

They got the goods they wanted in the warehouse, the workers got new jobs and wages, the city didn't have to worry about the workers going to make trouble, and the bank avoided a possible bad debt.

It's a win-win business.

As for those bankrupt factory owners, who cares.

After all, they who have come to that point do not deserve sympathy.

Because until then, they can completely sell the backlog of goods in the warehouse.

Even if they lose some, they can at least survive.

While Chen Xu was chatting with Yorkemeeu.

Located on the sundeck on the second floor of the villa, Darch finally met Brontë.

Unlike the rest, Brontë was tightly held in this place, as well as his men of Lucanapoli and Quetdomartell.

After all, this is Henri Lemieux's banquet, and the people who can come are basically people from the party faction, or tycoons who are close to him.

And Brontë, as everyone knows, has some ill-than-the-job (CGBE) conflicts with Henri Lemieux.

Therefore, naturally no one will come over and provoke unhappiness in vain.

"Oh, angry cowboys, here you are... Also showered? "

Brontë's eyebrows were raised, and he looked at Ducky as they said.

Hearing this, Ducky's footsteps couldn't help but pause slightly.

At this time, he couldn't help but think of what Chen Xu had said at the door before.

Although he did not like the other party, and even because of the betrayal of the other party at the horseshoe lookout, his heart was full of anger.

But there is a little that Ducky does not say on his lips, but he also admits it in his heart.

That is, the other party seems to be a little better than him, even if it seems to him to be just a dog for the Federation.

And Brontë's attitude made Ducky feel humiliated.

Especially the title of cowboy is not a good name.

If you want to scold a person in the west, it is definitely not to use some vulgar words, but to call the other party a cowboy.

But Ducky also understood that he was able to attend this banquet because of Brontë.

Now is not the time to turn your face.

As for here, there are some people he knows, such as John and Charles. (Read violent novels, just go to Feilu Fiction Network!) ）

But for Ducky, even if he goes to get his revolver now, and then robs a wave at the banquet.

Nor could he ask the traitors he had in mind.

So now, he just thought he hadn't heard Brontë's words, and smirked twice to change the topic: "The banquet you invited us to look really good." "

Looking at Ducky's appearance, Brontë, who was originally in a bad mood, suddenly felt better.

Standing in front of the railing of the sundeck, Brontë sneered: "Yes, quite a good banquet, although I don't know exactly where it is good." "

"So this is the high society of St. Denis?" Ducky asked tentatively.

"Yes, look like this..." Brontë turned to stare at Ducky.

"So are these people your friends, Mr. Brontë?" Ducky continued to probing.

"No, no, no, not entirely." Brontë's brow wrinkled, and his expression was a little gloomy.

"But apparently they were afraid of me, so they targeted me, such as the poor worm, who was Mayor Henri Lemieux, and he thought he had found a backer, and he forgot his previous groveling appearance."

"And Alberto Forsar, who owns a sugar cane plantation on the island and spends his days mingling with women looking for fun, but always has to get into trouble that shouldn't be caused."

"And that friend from your old days, who put a skin on himself and treated himself as a person of the upper class." Brontë's gaze stared at Chen Xu, who was chatting with Yoclemieux by the garden.

As if sensing something, Chen Xu turned around and saw Brontë standing at the railing of the sundeck.

I'll put you in a cement tank and sink into the sea!

Brontë had a hypocritical smile on his face and at the same time spoke ruthlessly in a dull language.

Chen Xu was not familiar with Yiduli, or all the guests present were unfamiliar.

But not familiar with it, Chen Xu knows what kind of person Brontë is.

If you think about it, you know that this is not a good word.

However, the rest of the people who did not understand thought that Brontë was saying hello to everyone.

Although everyone understands that Bronte's relationship with Henri Lemière is not very good.

But it cannot be denied that in St. Denis, the other party does have a lot of energy.

So some of the people present also smiled and raised their glasses in response.

But for Brontë, what he really paid attention to was not the rest of the people, but Chen Xu, who was greeted by him.

However, what made Brontë angry to the extreme was to face his provocations.

Chen Xu did not respond with a smile and politeness as he thought, or scolded back with a bad face.

There was no other movement, just a glance back, then turned to continue chatting with Yoclemieu.

It's as if you're watching a clown on stage, performing a show that isn't funny.

And he is the clown.

"Maybe one day you can help me finish off this nasty guy?" Brontë suppressed the anger in his heart, took the wine glass and drank it, and then leaned back on the sofa and glanced at Ducky next to him.