Rebirth: Super Banking System Chapter 2321 - 2141: Hidden Motives
Previously on Rebirth: Super Banking System...
Amid the gathering.
Bluem sensed isolation and dejection washing over him.
This position.
It's utterly unsatisfying, likely the dullest assignment for any U.S. envoy overseas. In other nations, even at minimum, you'd savor complimentary feasts and beverages.
Chatting with intellectuals, mingling among the powerful.
Influential figures.
Spotlight favorites.
Always encircled by fans.
Yet.
What about my current situation?
The folks I deal with are just colleagues; without a formal summons, nobody in Myanmar thinks to include us, and day by day, it's dreadfully monotonous.
Swiveling around.
He eyed the British envoy, who wore a foolish smile.
Scoffed inwardly.
Why the glee? You're devoid of drive, no better than a lifeless carp.
Right then.
As though detecting his stare, the fellow drew near and murmured:
"Later."
"We'll grab a spot for midday meal; I learned a French cook has settled in the heart of the new town's urban area. It's been ages since I checked it out, so why not sample it?"
At those words.
Bluem's lips quirked in irritation.
A brief pause.
Finally, he muttered grudgingly:
"Fine."
Wasting the entire day feasting and imbibing alongside these types nearly corrupts one's path, yet options are scarce—if not idling with them, what else fills the hours?
Merely lounging in the workplace sipping brew.
Blast it!
As a driven foreign service officer, Bluem truly dreads his professional review boiling down to: accomplished zilch.
Humiliating.
"Heh."
Musing on the upcoming repast, the chap smirked once more; the once-mighty British Empire's worldwide dominance lies in ruins, making his duties a breeze.
Lazing through the days.
Dining.
Resting.
Wandering.
Tackling duties if they arise, roaming freely otherwise. With hordes of global visitors seeking treatment, top-tier international culinarians flock to launch eateries.
Trade thrives, every spot raking in fortunes.
From Europe.
To America.
And Africa.
Numerous arrivals set up dining spots; witnessing their success draws even more aspirants, though Myanmar enforces tight controls on such ventures— not every hopeful gains approval.
Those permitted to operate boast exceptional expertise.
"Sigh!"
The British official let out a heavy breath.
Regrettably.
Rentals only.
No purchases allowed.
This vexes plenty of UK nationals eager to secure holdings here, as they approach him for introductions and fixes, all in vain.
Unavailable for sale.
Simply off-limits.
Xin’an City.
Internal Capital.
Yangon.
These form Myanmar's trio of key urban hubs, notoriously inhospitable to overseas business property seekers, unlike elsewhere where leaders beg these magnates to invest.
Still.
Myanmar remains indifferent.
Regardless, sales are barred.
For any transaction,
exclusively locals qualify; even settled British expats yearning for citizenship hear: such an office doesn't exist.
Good lord.
Utterly ridiculous.
Sure, an Immigration Office exists, but it's minuscule, so tiny it lacks any public-facing service, rendering a windowless entity pointless, isn't it?
On this matter.
They've lodged complaints, yet nothing changes.
British?
Ha!
They snub the United States outright, so why spare them any courtesy? Pondering this, he vents silent fury at Myanmar's rulers from highest to lowest.
Beyond that.
He's powerless.
Of late.
His spirits soar, thanks to the Greek financial meltdown. That quagmire demands the European Union's plunge to bail it out, and witnessing the EU's woes delights him immensely.
United Kingdom.
Part of the European Union.
However.
It shunned the Euro adoption, and as Eurozone states unite to hoist the euro as the globe's runner-up tender, Britons harbor quiet resentment deep down.
Furthermore.
Certain EU members are far too... lax.
Not generating revenue.
Merely disbursing funds.
Thriving more luxuriously than the Brits, as if taunting the choice to cling to the pound as a grave error—instead, they should've merged to revel in opulence side by side.
Facing such allure.
The UK held firm against it.
Now.
Observing these carefree souls grapple with turmoil evokes a thrilling spectator vibe, fueling heaps of barbs aimed at the Eurozone framework these days.
Thus.
He secretly wishes for the euro's downfall.
...
A short distance off.
The Thai representative maintained a serene expression, his features lit with a grin that suggested delight to onlookers, though inwardly, envy raged like wildfire.
Prior times.
His humble fridge in the passenger vehicle overlooked nearby rivals.
From time to time.
Handing out portions of gruel, strutting proudly wherever he ventured.
These days.
Neighbors flaunt Mercedes and BMWs, indulging in gourmet spreads daily. Who stays unruffled? Over mere years, Thailand tumbled from Southeast Asia's second-strongest economy to third.
Myanmar.
Surged from the ranks' end to the top, overtaking ASEAN elder Indonesia, and from appearances, Indonesia won't close the gap anytime soon.
Slowly but surely.
Myanmar signals its bid for ASEAN supremacy. Leadership isn't solely about economic scale but global clout too, particularly via the fresh World Union Organization.
Their 'designs' shine through clearly.
Envy.
Jealousy.
Hatred.
Why no such fortune for transcription fluid? Had they foreseen this scenario four or five years back, Thailand would've braved conflict and borders to storm the 'Golden Triangle.'
To seize Ling.
And the Tian Duan Mountain gold deposit.
The first.
Signifies trillions in U.S. dollars of riches, while the second assuredly exceeds fourteen billion in auric reserves—what a shame, hindsight evades the world.
Today.
Ling has expanded massively and fortified, hitting summits where brute force no longer works; he's even griping to Western powers: how do you stand idle?
Why no moves to curb them?
You're unperturbed.
But we're frantic!
Five years.
No.
Three years suffice.
Myanmar could overhaul its entire infrastructure nationwide, refreshing everything; post-that, suppression won't erase the built wealth.
Thailand pales utterly in comparison.
How maddening.
Parasites.
Snort!
Squandering the aura of global might, tales of past efforts abound but all flopped—he cares not a whit about the failure details.
...
Close by.
The Indian envoy.
Likewise, sported a beaming visage, but inside, he'd grumbled endlessly; this impoverished neighbor embodies their wildest aspirations.
Sumptuous banquets.
Mercedes and BMW rides.
And India?
Stuck in the rut.
Still burdened by massive debts to Myanmar; via urban loans, Myanmar siphons riches from India's upper and middle strata once more, enriching Myanmar and foreign partners.
Indeed.
Though they gained a spanking-new metropolis.
Pristine.
Neat.
Contemporary.
Free of contaminants.
...
Countless perks, yet the cost to forge it is staggering, close to fifteen billion poured into Loyi's new urban build, with bulk gains scooped by outsiders.
Supplies.
Machinery.
Supervision.
...
India lacks the capacity, but the squandered funds sting deeply. What irks him most is the City Loan Scheme, rolled out by Myanmar across various lands.
Earlier.
Had Myanmar borrowed directly, India might've smirked briefly since it was their cash at risk, turning sour if default loomed.
Little did they suspect.
A crowd-sourced urban development drive emerged.
Through this.
Funds bypassed Myanmar Bank Group outflows, yet profits flowed wholly theirs, hazards dumped on investor crowds—what sorcery is this?
They pull off such feats?
All told.
His disposition sours.