Middle Eastern tyrants

Chapter 50 A Journey to the United States (Part Two)
"Twenty million US dollars, all in cash?"

The Citibank manager held the gold-embossed check, his knuckles turning white.

Sitting in front of him was a group of young people whose average age was no more than twenty, dressed in traditional Middle Eastern robes.

“Yes, cash.” Lu Lin tapped the walnut coffee table with his fingertips, leaned back, and crossed his legs.

The bank manager's Adam's apple bobbed.

The royal crest watermark on the passport, visa, and checks has all been verified—it's real, but that's what makes it even more terrifying.

"but."

“We came all the way from Shuangzhi, could my check be fake?” Lu Lin frowned: “Then I’m leaving, I won’t exchange it.”

"No!" The manager nearly lunged at the glass door.

As a seasoned veteran of Wall Street, he was all too aware of the sensitivity surrounding the UN General Assembly these past few days.

With the UN General Assembly in session, the police station has increased its patrol manpower several times over, and even the military is on standby for deployment.

These young masters in front of me might have come with the delegation. If I mishandle it and it turns into a diplomatic incident, my job as bank manager will be over.

"Today is social welfare distribution day, I'm going to check the reserves." The manager wiped his sweat. "Please wait a moment."

“Change to $20 bills,” Lu Lin added.

The manager hurriedly agreed and led them to a reception hall paved with black marble, with Italian leather sofas placed under a crystal chandelier.

Azhar walked to the temperature-controlled wine cabinet in the corner and saw the bottles with corks inside. "How do I open this cabinet?"

He tapped the glass twice, startling the waiter who quickly demonstrated how to do it.

The fat prince squatted in front of the keypad phone, picked up the receiver, and randomly pressed numbers. When the call connected and a woman's voice came through, he hurriedly hung up and nervously looked around.

Lu Lin picked up the Wall Street Journal; today's headline was a report on the situation in the Middle East.

"The Surria government condemned Zion's aggression and demanded the return of the occupied land. Zion's Prime Minister Albert Maimonides delivered a post-war speech, declaring that the country is still at war."

"Prime Minister Ferdinand Masr refused to attend the United Nations General Assembly and instead presided over post-war reconstruction efforts in Cairo."

According to OPEC, international oil prices have risen by 35% due to the Middle East wars.

"The United States Seventh Fleet seized the Zion Warrior-class battleship in the Gulf of Jacob, and the United Kingdom denies direct involvement in the Arab War."

Warrior-class warship?
Lu Lin raised an eyebrow. He had been hit on the head by the 381 naval gun at the Nukoshir outpost. He never expected that the United States would capture this warship.

This is crucial evidence!
After a while, the manager hurriedly returned, sweat beading on his forehead: "I'm sorry, the bank can only prepare about a quarter of what's available for you right now, but we can urgently transfer some from head office. The rest will take two to three days."

Before Lu Lin could respond, he hurriedly added, "However, we have a backup plan. You can use our credit card with the highest limit. Please feel free to ask for anything you need."

"Five million it is," Lu Lin said. "We also need security services, and please provide us with vehicles as well."

“No problem,” the manager immediately agreed.

Half an hour later, a dozen bank security personnel came out carrying dozens of large bags full of cash and surrounded Lu Lin and his group.

The countless people in the hall who came to withdraw money stared wide-eyed at this scene.

"Is that bag full of money?"

"Looks like they didn't rob a bank."

"An Arab oil tycoon?"

A group of white police officers were acting as bodyguards for Arabs.

Hearing the surrounding chatter, the princes unconsciously straightened their backs.

After getting into the luxury car prepared by the bank, Lu Lin asked the manager, "Where can I buy something truly unique?"

"If you're looking to buy luxury goods, Fifth Avenue is a good option," the bank manager said, wiping the sweat from his brow.

"Then what are we waiting for?" Lu Lin gestured, "Let's go."

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

When Lu Lin and his entourage appeared on Fifth Avenue, their rare Arab faces, luxury cars, police and security guards acting as escorts, and a well-dressed manager leading the way immediately attracted a lot of attention.

Lu Lin frowned at the long line outside the LV store: "I don't want to wait in line."

Upon hearing this, the manager immediately steeled himself and stepped forward to negotiate, showing his business card and whispering a few words. The shop assistant, seeing the business card, knew this was a genuine customer, not someone just browsing without spending any money, and immediately respectfully led the way.

"Please."

The manager straightened his tie slightly, and his familiar smile reappeared.

A mature bank manager must have the business acumen to help clients solve any difficulties!

But his smile quickly faded, because Lu Lin frowned as soon as he entered: "Why are there so many people? How am I supposed to choose?"

"Uh," the shop assistant said, completely bewildered as he couldn't understand Arabic.

“Sir, this is a public service area, everyone is welcome to come in,” the bank manager quickly explained.

Unexpectedly, Lu Lin switched to fluent Saxon at this moment and said to the shop assistant, "I want to see your latest seasonal products."

His opening remarks completely baffled the manager.

No, you speak Saxon?
"We have handbags, small leather goods, and large suitcases," the sales assistant enthusiastically introduced the product range, adding, "These are all the latest styles."

The salesperson then introduced him to several handbags and belts, priced between two hundred and one thousand US dollars.

"Are there any purchase restrictions?" Lu Lin asked.

"No."

Lu Lin waved, and the security guard immediately brought over the money bag.

“Wrap them all up,” he said, pointing to the items in the store. “I want them all.”

"Excuse me," the shop assistant said, thinking she had misheard, "What did you say?"

A woman was examining her handbag when Lu Lin politely said, "Madam, please put my things down."

The store manager rushed over upon hearing the commotion: "Sir, please don't disturb other customers, or we will have to call the police."

“She didn’t pay, and I already said I’d pay for everything in the store.” Lu Lin gestured to the security guard to pile the bundles of US dollars on the counter. “Now, who’s going to pay my bill?”

The police officer reluctantly showed his identification, leaving the store manager speechless.

"Sir, all the goods have been packed for you, totaling 134,000."

Lu Lin counted out fourteen stacks of banknotes and tossed them to the clerk, saying, "Keep the change, the rest is your tip."

The young and beautiful saleswoman boasted that she had seen countless young celebrities, but none of them were as unique as the one in front of her.

The store manager was even more shocked by Lu Lin's generosity; money seemed to be just a number to these young people.

Is this what Arab tycoons are like?
"Sir, I have two cases of red wine from a first-growth Bordeaux château here. Consider it a personal gift from me." The shop manager had already put on a smiling face.

"No need, there's too much stuff, the car can't fit it all." Lu Lin walked out of the empty luxury store without turning his head and ordered, "Next store."

For the next forty minutes, Fifth Avenue witnessed an unprecedented shopping frenzy.

Lu Lin repeated his previous actions, causing the luxury stores on Fifth Avenue that were normally out of reach to shed their haughty masks under his lavish spending.

As the crowd grew larger, Azhar and the other princes felt countless burning gazes, filled with shock, envy, and curiosity, and a strange sense of dread crept up their spines.

Is this what it feels like to be the center of attention?

"It only cost this little."

Looking at the few expenses listed, Lu Lin felt somewhat disheartened, but he still had to continue this tedious work.

"What's Mosch?" Lu Lin walked into a store with an extravagant design and found that he didn't recognize the name.

Based on the belief that only good products can be recognized domestically, and that anything he didn't recognize must not be good, he turned around and left.

Unexpectedly, this action caused the store manager's expression to freeze instantly.

Meanwhile, onlookers outside the store also picked up on this signal. A fashion editor who came to observe noted in his notebook: "It seems that the Arab tycoon doesn't like Moschato's design style."

The princes keenly sensed the shift in the attitudes of those around them, and the sense of superiority from being followed and imitated made their hearts race.

Just as Lu Lin was about to book the familiar luxury store again, Azhar grabbed his sleeve.

"Cousin, please," the young prince pleaded, letting his guard down. "Can I call out 'all-inclusive' at the next restaurant? Just this once!"

(End of this chapter)