"Do you know how many fitness enthusiasts there are in America?"
When Dumpling decided to help Chris on his path to running for president, he became serious again, waving his hand to summon a holographic projection, then asked another peculiar question.
Chris sat on a stool extended from the metal floor and curiously retorted, "Why are you asking this? Are they related to your plan?"
But for Chris's lazy behavior, Dumpling frowned and said angrily, "Hey, don't answer a question with a question! OK?"
Seeing Dumpling's impatient expression, Chris used his brain and then turned his gaze to the dragon blood potion test tube he had just finished drinking.
"You want to use this potion to win over those fitness groups?"
"It seems a strong physique hasn't turned you into a muscle-bound brute." Dumpling nodded with relief when he heard Chris's answer.
Seeing Dumpling's posture, Chris immediately understood that he had guessed correctly, but then his expression became worried.
"Wouldn't this be too wasteful? That stuff had such a powerful effect on me, it would be an absolute killer for ordinary people!"
"Hoo hoo hoo!" Dumpling heard Chris's indirect praise, immediately covered his mouth and laughed, then explained, "You're right, that thing is called a potion, but in reality, it can be classified as a gene enhancer."
"For ordinary people, one tube of this stuff would at least give them a physique similar to Captain America. If they could gain the blessing of the American will, they could even achieve the same fifty-fifty operations as that soldier."
"So I certainly can't release this thing, otherwise our universe might connect to some strange universes, and then develop timelines that even I would find troublesome."
"So..." Seeing Dumpling with a not-so-pleasant memory on his face, Chris spoke up to continue his sentence.
"So we can modify the formula of this thing, then dilute it, and disguise it as a fitness functional drink.
Believe me, even like this, those fitness enthusiasts who drink it will absolutely love it like addicts."
"After all, this thing can truly enhance the essence of human life. Their genes will love that feeling of being strengthened.
And by the time we've spread this thing across all the gyms in the country, those fitness enthusiasts who have drunk it will be your most loyal votes."
"You know, that's over thirty million fitness people, plus they all have their own families. Calculating that each fitness person can win over two people to vote for you, you'll get at least a hundred million voters."
Pulling specific numbers from the holographic projection, Dumpling excitedly stood up and shouted.
However, Chris was not blinded by the blueprint Dumpling envisioned. He thought and asked, "Since you said this drink can strengthen the human body, and everyone who drinks it will love it. Then why don't we just sell it to all citizens? Wouldn't everyone in the country then be our votes?"
"Hehe, I'm glad you thought of that, but have you considered one point? That is, when everyone can enjoy this benefit, will they still only vote for you?"
"Then..."
"You're not going to say we can stop their drinks anytime, are you? If so, I'll have to reclassify you from someone who can be communicated with to an idiot!"
Looking at Dumpling's mocking eyes, Chris still used his old method, remaining silent.
"Hmph hmph, you need to know one thing: the public generally takes things they already enjoy for granted.
And when someone wants to change this norm, they will instinctively dislike or even resist this reformer.
Even if the change is made by the very person who initially provided them with benefits, they will still not give up obstructing the other party's new changes.
Because that has already affected their own interests."
Listening to Dumpling's theory, Chris was speechless.
Because he deduced it according to what Dumpling said, and found that the final outcome would indeed be as Dumpling said.
If he promoted this drink nationwide, then a large number of them would not embrace Chris, nor would they give him their votes.
Because at that time, this drink would be available nationwide, and they would only think of it as a new type of drink, no different from the usual ones.
At most, it would have health-preserving functions.
But if Chris later threatened them by stopping the drink, then those people would turn against Chris because of this, treating him as a sinner who hindered their physical health.
By then, the pharmaceutical giants whose financial paths were cut off by Chris would not even be a problem; the anger of all America's citizens alone would be more than he could bear.
After all, Zhang Mazi needed to first give money and then guns to incite the anger of the people of Goose City.
And in America, they don't even need to issue guns.
As long as you give money and then take it away, they will directly pull out their guns and take to the streets.
So if it really went according to Chris's idea, then he would become the person who gives money and then robs it.
In short, he would be neither here nor there!
"Damn! This is politics!"
"You understand?"
Dumpling struck a pose similar to Commander Ikari, fingers intertwined supporting his nose bridge, but unfortunately his hands were too small to completely cover the lower half of his face, making it look a bit comical.
However, Chris couldn't laugh now; he was even a bit dejected.
Through the conversation just now, he felt that he was not at all cut out for politics, because the strategy Dumpling had decided on in an instant, he still needed to think through to understand.
This even made Chris entertain the thought that perhaps he shouldn't run for president after all.
Dumpling evidently saw Chris's retreating thoughts, and he stood up again and shouted, "Idiot! What are you so dejected about? The position you're running for is President of America, not the chief engineer of some major project!
I'm telling you clearly, a dog could do well in the position of president, so you don't have to worry about whether you're qualified enough at all!
All you need to do is win the election in a few years, and then walk into that White House! By then, even if you have wild parties in there every day, that group of national think tanks will be able to do your job for you!"
Looking at the aggressive Dumpling, Chris suddenly woke up.
Oh, right! He was running for president, not working as White House security.
This position could indeed be done well by a dog, so he had no need to feel sorry for himself at all.
In fact, with the political literacy he had learned from compulsory education in the Flower Nation, he might even do better!
After all, he would still pay attention to the health of all citizens, and wouldn't propose absurd ideas like drinking disinfectant to disinfect.
Comparing himself to the various actions of that golden-haired person before he transmigrated, Chris's confidence immediately returned, and it was even exceptionally solid.
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