At first, the crowd listened quietly. But as Feng Mountain’s impromptu speech went on, their expressions shifted from initial fervent admiration to firm resolve.

Feng Mountain suddenly raised his voice, "Let’s stop being an ignored community! Let’s work together to break the shackles that bind us!"

The echo from the speakers was still reverberating through the air.

A wave of thunderous applause and shouts erupted from the crowd.

"That’s right! We’re with Khilla! Break the shackles!"

"Khilla! Break the shackles!"

"Khilla! Overthrow capitalism!"

On stage, Feng Mountain was still secretly patting himself on the back for his impromptu speech.

But then he heard the crowd’s passionate, soaring cries.

’Wait, that’s not right. Why are their chants getting more and more extreme?’

’This is pushing me into the fire!’

Standing on the stage, cold sweat beaded on Feng Mountain’s forehead. He tried to grab the microphone again to regain control of the situation.

"Everyone, calm down, calm down! We have to fight for our rights through peaceful and legal means!"

However, his voice was drowned out by the rising tide of shouts.

Just then, Frank took the microphone from him and signaled for the band to start playing. He then pushed Feng Mountain backstage, behind the curtain.

Lady Erica of the Independent Party, who was standing to the side, stared at Feng Mountain with gleaming eyes. If Frank hadn’t been there, she would have pinned Feng Mountain to the ground and given him a good scrubbing.

On the smooth floor.

Once backstage, the curtain muffled the clamorous music.

Frank chuckled and patted Feng Mountain’s shoulder. "Buddy, your speech was amazing!" he praised.

"What are we going to do? There were reporters filming. They recorded the chants about attacking the White House and capturing the president," Feng Mountain asked, full of worry.

"Ha! You’re worried about *that*?" Frank suddenly burst out laughing. Lady Erica, standing nearby, broke into a smile as well.

’What the hell are you guys laughing at?!’

’I’m being serious here.’

Feng Mountain’s expression soured.

"Buddy, don’t worry." Frank wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. "In the United States, criticizing the president is practically a national pastime. You’d be embarrassed to call yourself an American if you *didn’t* criticize the president."

Lady Erica laughed and added.

"That’s right. Freedom of speech is a sacred right granted to citizens by the Constitution. A president who gets criticized isn’t necessarily a bad one, but a president who *isn’t* criticized is definitely not a good one."

Frank added.

"If you turn on the TV and a channel has low ratings, there are only two possible reasons: either they just finished criticizing the president, or they’re getting ready to criticize the president."

"Don’t worry, for today’s rally, we already applied for and received a permit from the police to publicly attack and rail against the president. There are no consequences."

’What!’

’You have to apply for a permit to criticize the president? And you can actually get it approved?’

’What kind of upside-down world is this?!’

But hearing them say that, Feng Mountain could finally breathe a sigh of relief. He then looked at Frank.

"Why did you start this Frank’s House thing?"

"Didn’t you tell me to do good deeds? Doesn’t helping the homeless count as a good deed?" Frank said, feigning a wounded expression. Hearing the cheers from the stage, he added, "I’m going to head back out for a second. Things are getting a little rowdy."

With that, he slipped back through the curtain.

Now, only a man and a woman were left alone backstage.

Feng Mountain wanted to leave too. The look in the woman’s eyes was too strange; it felt like she wanted to eat him alive.

After a moment of demure silence.

Lady Erica was the first to speak. "Mr. Feng, have you any interest in joining the Independent Party? In pursuing a political career?"

"???" Feng Mountain blinked, putting on a look of complete incomprehension.

’Political career? I just want to quietly look after my Crown Territory and live the life of a landowner.’

"Sorry, I’ve never considered it."

"That’s a real shame!" Lady Erica’s expression showed a hint of disappointment, but she recovered instantly, her gaze once again turning fervent as she looked at Feng Mountain.

’Even if he doesn’t want to enter politics himself, his resources are incredibly deep.’

’The latest census put Alaska’s population at 730,000, with Indians and Indigenous People of Alaska making up 15.6% of that—nearly 120,000 people.’

’Judging by the attitude of the Indigenous People in the crowd toward Feng Mountain, if he’d just endorse the Independent Party, he’d be a massive vote bank.’

’Frank’s House for the homeless actually had a secondary purpose: to secure votes for the Independent Party and prepare for next year’s state representative election.’

’I just never expected Frank to be hiding such a powerful trump card.’

"What are your thoughts on the Independent Party?"

"Hmm... while lying down!" Feng Mountain blurted out, an answer that instantly crushed Lady Erica’s spirits.

She thought for a moment and decided to take a more roundabout approach.

"Actually, Frank is also eligible to run for state representative next year. Unfortunately, he’s part of the Rainbow Race, and Alaska isn’t supportive of them. Frank and I have been good friends and colleagues for many years. If I’m elected state representative, I’ll propose a protection act for the Rainbow Race."

’Rainbow Race?’

’What the hell is that?’

Feng Mountain continued to blink, but this time he wasn’t faking his confusion. He genuinely had no idea what she was talking about.

In Lady Erica’s eyes, however, Feng Mountain’s expression was one of disbelief. She immediately spoke with conviction.

"Mr. Feng, please, believe in my promise."

Just then, Frank slipped back through the curtain, smiling at them both.

"Guys, you’ll never guess. That bastard Bird was in the crowd. He was the one shouting ’capture the president’ the loudest."

"What were you two talking about?"

"Nothing," Lady Erica cut in before Feng Mountain could answer. She put on a secretive expression and gave Feng Mountain a deliberate wink.

To Frank, that move looked very familiar. It was pure, unadulterated flirtation. He immediately slung an arm around Feng Mountain’s shoulders and glared at his longtime friend and colleague.

"Erica, don’t tell me you’re getting ideas about Feng. God, you’re twenty years apart! I won’t allow it."

"If Feng is willing, I wouldn’t say no."

’Lady Erica hadn’t actually considered it, but if it were to happen... it wasn’t out of the question.’

’The newly elected president of France, Macron, is 24 years younger than his wife.’

"Frank, the rally today was a great success. I’ll be going now!"

After saying her goodbyes and shaking their hands, she departed. When she shook Feng Mountain’s hand, however, she deliberately tickled his palm with her pinky.

Feng Mountain flinched instinctively, a reaction Frank, whose arm was still draped over his shoulders, immediately noticed.

"Buddy, you didn’t actually fall for that, did you? Do you really want to be a father to six kids? Her oldest is two years older than you!"

"Bullshit!" Feng Mountain twitched his shoulder, shrugging off Frank’s arm. "How are we supposed to get out of here? We’ll be swarmed if we go out the front."

"I’ll have Tom bring the truck around!"

"Let’s have dinner tonight. I’ve got a surprise for you."

...

They got into Tom’s Pickup Truck and quietly drove away from Frank’s House.

He definitely couldn’t stay in the city. Once the reporters published their stories, the sensation would probably be even bigger than when he’d saved Aunt Susan.

Before heading back to Polaris Town, Feng Mountain decided to visit Aunt Susan in the hospital.

Having learned his lesson from last time,

Feng Mountain didn’t buy a single thing this time.

He arrived at Memorial Hospital and found Dr. Robert to request a visit. The doctor, naturally, did not look pleased to see the bastard who had nearly caused him to violate the medical anti-kickback statute. But since he couldn’t deny the visit, he agonized for a moment before approving the request.

Feng Mountain waited for a short while in the ward’s visiting room.

The door opened, and a middle-aged man walked in, pushing a wheelchair. Aunt Susan, covered in bandages, was sitting in it.

Apart from the time he had rescued her, this was the first time he and Aunt Susan had formally met.

"Feng!"

"Hey, Susan."

There was no awkwardness between them, as if they were old friends who had known each other for years.

"That Wolf Fur Coat of yours is so cool."

"How’s your recovery coming along??"

"It’s going very quickly. The doctor thinks I can be discharged in a month. He called it a medical miracle." Susan beamed at Feng Mountain. "Thank you!"

Though it was just a simple "thank you," Feng Mountain could hear the depth of emotion behind it.

"Feng, can you promise me something?"

"Name it."

"Help me kill that brown bear from the camp. I’m sure it’s still at Kevik Camp," Susan said through gritted teeth, still brooding over the ambush.

"No problem."

’That’s a small request. I can handle that.’

Feng Mountain agreed without the slightest hesitation.

A short while later, Dr. Robert interrupted the visit. He said with a stern face that if the visit continued any longer, the entire hospital’s patients would start complaining about the lack of nursing care.

Feng Mountain saw the doorway packed with a sea of female nurses.

Feng Mountain had no choice but to take his leave. Just then, Susan suddenly remembered something.

"Feng, just a heads-up. A few days ago, some Indians came by asking about you."

"Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind. Get well soon."

Feng Mountain didn’t think much of it. He said his goodbyes, left the hospital, and headed to the parking lot.

Tom was sitting in the Pickup Truck, engrossed in his phone. Feng Mountain had to knock on the window several times before Tom unlocked the door.

Before Feng could start complaining, Tom held up his phone. "Dude, you’re on the news again! Facebook is flooded with your pictures. And the biggest cosplay community in the United States wants to invite you to be their honorary president."

’Cos... play what?’

Taking the phone, Feng Mountain clicked on a few posts. They were all photos of him on stage wearing the Black Wolf Head Hood.

’Have to admit, the photos are pretty high-quality.’

The corners of Feng Mountain’s mouth curved up slightly with a hint of imperceptible pride, but he feigned nonchalance. Remembering something, he asked casually, "Do you know what the ’Rainbow Race’ is?"

"Rainbow what? You mean Skittles?" Tom asked, looking completely lost.

’Forget it. I’d have better luck asking Nash.’

Feng Mountain gave up trying to get an answer out of the ignoramus and pointed at the windshield.

"Back to Polaris Town. I need to buy some supplies."

...

「Speeding along Highway 4, they returned to Polaris Town.」

Feng Mountain took out the shopping list Nash had given him. Tom glanced over it, a grin spreading across his face—another fat transport fee for him.

"No problem. I can get everything on here."

"Crown Territory really should have some snowmobiles. Bombardier, Polaris, Arctic Cat, Yamaha?"

Feng Mountain frowned upon learning there were so many brands of snowmobiles. "I’m not familiar with these brands. Do you have any recommendations?"

Leaning on the Steering Wheel, Tom spoke with the confidence of a seasoned expert, eloquently analyzing the features and advantages of each brand.

"Bombardier is the most expensive—a rich man’s toy. If you’re using them on the Tundra, Arctic Cat is definitely better. They’re cheaper and easier to repair. As for Yamaha... I don’t think you’ll like them."

"Then let’s go check out Arctic Cat first."

"YES, SIR!"

Tom yanked the Steering Wheel, forcing his way from the main lane into another. The driver of the car he cut off stuck his head out the window and cursed up a storm.

Tom, in response, stuck his hand out the window and gave him an international gesture.

....