American Adventure: My Uncle is Don Quixote

It clicked.

Li Wei understood everything. He had finally figured out how this skull worked.

’Isn’t this thing just a quest trigger?’

It acted like an online troll, flaming everything in sight, and even came with a nagging detection ability. If this were really a game system, there would probably be conflicts, but—

Li Wei glanced over at Don Quixote. The great Knight still had his eyes closed, tightly gripping a mop head as he patrolled back and forth with a resolute expression. He was completely oblivious to the jester skull beside him, which was on a frantic tirade, belittling the Knightly Spirit until it seemed utterly worthless.

In fact, Don Quixote probably couldn’t hear the item’s incessant muttering at all.

"Shut up, you chattering bone," Li Wei mumbled. "Now I know why someone tore out your tongue before smashing your head in with a hammer."

Since Don Quixote couldn’t hear it, the solution to the conflict was incredibly simple.

With a single thought, Li Wei opened his system panel and unceremoniously stuffed the still-chattering jester skull back into his inventory.

As the jester skull vanished, so did the huge swaths of dialogue boxes. Instantly, Li Wei felt like his vision had cleared up considerably.

[Conflict Resolved. The jester’s offensive words have been suppressed. You have deftly upheld the Knight’s dignity and the peace of your domain.]

[Reward Gained: Free Attribute Points +0.1]

’Getting attribute points for free feels awesome.’ Li Wei let out a long sigh of relief. After calming the sleepwalking Don Quixote, he went back to sleep.

The next day, a nervous-looking Mark arrived at Li Wei’s luxury apartment in Fortress City.

The moment he walked in, Mark impatiently tossed his briefcase onto the sofa. "Mr. Li Wei, I’ve started using Merrill Lynch’s compliance procedures to stall, but without a legitimate reason, Julian’s team will find out sooner or later."

Li Wei, however, was in no hurry. He calmly poured Mark a glass of water. "Calm down. Have a drink first."

"I’ve discussed it with Elizabeth," he said, sitting down. "On paper, Anya’s 50 million in funds will be merged directly into the Johnson Family’s youth sports rehabilitation fund. Woody Johnson himself is putting his name on the project."

Mark’s eyes widened. "The Johnson Group? I didn’t realize the Johnson Group was involved in this!"

"That’s right," Li Wei nodded slowly. "JPMorgan Chase’s compliance department would never dare hold up the Johnson Group’s funds just to accommodate the private machinations of one of their MDs. Your job now is to ’accidentally’ leak this information to Julian."

"I get it," Mark instantly understood Li Wei’s plan. "Then I’ll tell him that because the Johnson Group is involved, Merrill Lynch’s internal compliance process has been frozen. If he still insists on holding up the money, the only way forward is for him to send Merrill Lynch a joint risk advisory letter bearing his personal digital signature."

"This forces him to get personally involved, leaving ironclad evidence of his cross-bank intervention in the financial clearing network," Li Wei nodded. "Now we’ll see if he’s willing to risk offending both the Mellon and Johnson families at the same time."

Just then, a slew of new dialogue boxes popped up from the chattering jester skull.

[Behold, a pillar of the Kingdom’s mint! He clearly possesses an exceptionally keen nose and an insatiable ambition, his head brimming with wonderful ideas on how to double his Gold Coins.]

The jester’s Ruby eyes stared intently at Mark, as if trying to see straight through his soul.

Then, the text in the dialogue box turned mocking:

[Why would such a supremely clever man show such laughable, blind loyalty to a Silver Knight who is nothing but muscle and only knows how to swing a blade? Don’t you know that in this Royal City, where money is power, you could steal a dragon’s hoard with just a few minor alterations to those tedious ledgers? Such loyalty is nauseating!]

Li Wei watched the words scroll frantically before him. He outwardly remained calm, taking a sip of water, but inwardly, he felt a profound sense of relief.

The jester might have a foul mouth, and its words were both incessant and caustic, but its greatest strength was its ability to see through all schemes and lies.

If Mark had even the slightest inkling of betrayal or selfish scheming in his heart, the skull would have mercilessly mocked his hypocrisy and greed.

But instead, it was mocking Mark’s blind loyalty.

This meant that, as things stood, the partner from Merrill Lynch Securities was one-hundred-percent loyal to him, with no intention of feigning obedience while secretly undermining him.

Now that he had confirmed Mark’s loyalty, Li Wei no longer held anything back.

"Mark, Julian is a nuisance, but at most, he’s just an attack dog someone else unleashed," he said. "The true mastermind behind this is Charles Mellon, owner of the Manhattan Art Center and the Manhattan Modern Art Charity Foundation."

"We’re caught up in the Mellon Family’s internal power struggle?" The moment Mark heard the name, a cold sweat broke out on his back.

"Don’t be so nervous," Li Wei said, clapping the ’pillar of the Royal Mint’ on the shoulder. "Charles Mellon is currently scheming to have one billion USD of family funds injected into his foundation instead of Elizabeth’s. That’s why he needs to create trouble for her. The longer we stall, the more desperate he’ll become."

He paused before continuing, "So, for the next month, besides using Merrill Lynch’s internal compliance procedures to bait Julian into leaving behind a digital signature of his personal, cross-bank intervention, I also need you to look into the ’Manhattan Art Center’."

"Understood. Just give me my orders, Mr. Li Wei." Mark immediately straightened his posture. He and Li Wei were in the same boat now.

"Don’t tip them off. Your current clearance level probably won’t let you dig up much anyway," Li Wei said after a moment’s thought. "Just focus on collecting their financial reports, capital flow records, charitable tax exemption data, and any related M&A materials from the past few years."

If Mark alone tried to conduct a deep dive into the equity structure and capital chains, Charles Mellon would likely notice.

Li Wei had another idea. He wanted to see if the jester’s skull could be useful in other ways.

「Two days later. Upper East Side of Manhattan, Veronica’s apartment.」

Julian was especially agitated today.

He took her in a near-abusive frenzy. Veronica’s usual charms—her large breasts, slender waist, and shapely ass—held no appeal for him. It was as if, in his eyes, she was nothing more than a piece of meat.

Despite this, Veronica didn’t cry out. Afterward, she simply sprayed a soothing mist on the bruises that were already forming on her buttocks, arms, and face.

"Phew..." She lit a slim cigarette and looked over at Julian, who had calmed down. "More trouble today?"

"Sorry," Julian said. "I’ll make it up to you."

"That’s not important, Julian," Veronica said, slipping on a silk robe. She crawled over to him and wrapped her arms around him. "But why were you so angry today? I could feel that you were... panicking."

Julian didn’t want to answer, but when he saw the pity in Veronica’s eyes, he couldn’t stop himself from loudly correcting her:

"I am not panicking! How could I be panicking? It’s just... the situation has gone a little beyond my expectations."

"In short, I’ve hit another snag, and I can’t get myself out of it," he said, scratching at his thinning hair. He stressed, "Or maybe not completely stuck. I just feel like I *might*—and I stress, *might*—be in a little bit of trouble."

"A promotion is tempting, I get it, but you have to survive to enjoy it," Veronica said, walking behind him and gently massaging his temples. "If the trouble is too big, the payoff might not be worth the risk."

With a sharp SLAP, Julian irritably knocked her hand away.

"What do you know? Do you have any idea how close I am? I’m one step away from making it into management," he roared. "I’ve been trying to climb the ladder for years. I dream about sitting in that chair. If Jamie Dimon (CEO of JPMorgan Chase) told me to lick his balls, I’d undo his belt like I was waiting on Scarlett Johansson."

"You’re right, I don’t understand," Veronica said, not getting angry. She rubbed her wrist and poured him another drink. "I’m just a whore, right? The decision is all yours."

...

"You’re right," Julian said, calming down with a sigh. "Do you have anything stronger here? Like ketamine? I need something to calm my nerves. And not that street-grade crap. I want something pure."

"Of course," Veronica said. "I’ll get it ready for you."

"How much?" Julian asked. "I’ll pay you back."

"Don’t worry about it," Veronica said, crossing her legs and taking a drag from her cigarette. She watched Julian with a dark, unreadable expression. "It’s on the house."

「A few days later.」

Li Wei landed in Dallas, Texas, having flown in on a private jet generously provided by John Mara.

In late October, Dallas was just shaking off the months-long summer heat, an oppressive warmth capable of melting asphalt.

Cold air from the north had yet to fully cross the Great Plains, leaving Dallas in the midst of its most pleasant season.

A dry autumn wind swept over the vast Texan landscape, filling the air with the uniquely rugged aroma of the great southern state—a blend of fermented malt beer, heavily smoked beef brisket, and the exhaust fumes of large-displacement American V8 engines.

Big American V8s. To hell with environmental protection.

For a true-blue Texan redneck, football was never just a sport. It was a second religion. The aesthetics of violence were practically encoded in their DNA.

As for Li Wei, the "yellow-skinned kid" who dominated every NFL headline and hot topic, he was a perfect storm of provocation. His race, his public statements, and even his team—the New York Giants, loathed by all Texans—every single thing about him was like a kick to their collective prostate. Every one of Li Wei’s victories made them jump up and down with rage.

And now, finally, Li Wei had come to Dallas.

This was the goddamn Lone Star State, and they would be damned if they let some outsider "yellow-skinned kid" trample all over their pride.