"Look at this. Pen? Interesting? Pavilion wWw. ｂiquge。 info" O'Connor threw a newspaper in front of Qin Lang. However, before Qin Lang picked it up, he had already continued: "Emperor Wilhelm II publicly stated that Alexander. Vasilyevich. Lieutenant Colonel Kolchak was a national hero of the Russian Empire, and if he had been Nicholas II, he would have awarded Kolchak the highest rank of the Order and could even create a kind of order for him...... Are you listening, Qin? ”

"Of course, Sean, I'm listening." Qin Lang put down the document in his hand, raised his head, and gave O'Connor a smile.

"I doubt it."

"Really? Well, I didn't hear you. Qin Lang shrugged. What do you want to say? ”

O'Connor reached out and tapped his index finger twice on the newspaper.

Qin Lang moved his gaze down to the newspaper, but only read the headline, and then immediately returned to his original position. "Whatever the German emperor says, I will not be surprised." "And, these days, we see similar clichés every day, don't we?" ”

He means that there is no need to make a fuss about it, and he is already tired of the news about Kolchak.

There is so much news about him. St. Petersburg wielded all its propaganda machine, and the Parisian ones, day and night - a little exaggerated, but only a little - to preach the glorious deeds of Kolchak, describing him as a fearless lone hero, a witty sea fighter, a tactician of the Imperial Russian Navy. His achievements are unparalleled, no one has achieved them in the past and no one will do them in the future...... And so on and so forth.

In short, the Russians and their French allies praised Kolchak with every word they could think of, just as the priest praised God.

In the face of such a powerful propaganda offensive, the news media of the United States, Britain, Germany, and, of course, other European countries will certainly not be idle, and the officers of the navy have also stated to reporters or personally written articles to express their views, some of which are praise, some are skeptical, some are envious, and some are sarcastic. Qin Lang saw these two kinds of remarks the most, there were many supporters, many opponents, and of course there were many quarrels.

Kolchak is like that Mesoamerican butterfly, gently flapping its wings and causing a storm halfway around the world.

Many people liked the sudden storm: the newspaper owners were happy because there was a huge increase in newspaper sales; The Russian government and French bond merchants were equally happy, as sales of Russian war bonds on the Paris bond market were also rising.

And the storm will continue for a while until people get completely tired of it.

"Just like me, when I hear or see the name of the lieutenant admiral, I automatically filter what is behind it." Qin Lang pointed to his nose and said, then shook his head. "Luckily, passion is always momentary."

"And the good fortune of the Russians is coming to an end." O'Connor smiled.

"That's true," Qin Lang nodded, "The good fortune of the Russians is coming to an end. ”

The only question is, when. He added mentally.

Qin Lang knew very well that he could not predict the specific changes in this war. The results of the Battle of Guam and Kolchak's results were not found in the history he knew. Makarov also did not die. These were expected changes, the result of the butterfly effect, but he didn't know what the next change would be, and he didn't want to predict it.

Last time he had been wrong about his prediction - he told O'Connor that the battle at sea would be dull for a while, and that he could turn his gaze to the land and see what was going on on the ground, but the situation was exactly the opposite, and nothing happened on the land battlefield, but a series of good things were played out at sea.

It made him a little uncomfortable. Although he left room for the unexpected, and no one doubted his predictive abilities, he still felt uncomfortable.

Psychological effects, perhaps, are a kind of obsessive-compulsive disorder. After all, he could always guess the outcome correctly after all these years, and no matter how much he reminded himself, he would still become proud, paranoid, and convinced that he was definitely right - very slightly, only a little, but it could still affect his mood.

So now, he's a little resistant to the predictions. Besides, in this world, no one can guess the exact outcome.

There are many possible scenarios. Maybe the Russians will sink the warships of the Combined Fleet again, maybe Makarov still ran into mines, maybe the detachment in Vladivostok will be captured by Hikonojo Uemura, maybe the Japanese Army will suffer a heavy blow in Arthur......

Qin Lang's speculation suddenly stopped, and then turned into serious analysis and inference.

Instinctive reaction, or rather, the old mistake is repeated.

knew what the reason was, and knew how to solve it, but Qin Lang still continued to think about that problem.

Is it possible that the Japanese Army will be hit hard at Arthur? Nogi Noshinori was dead, and the defeat of the Combined Fleet had apparently struck a nerve in Tokyo, forcing it to double its forces to attack the base of the First Pacific Fleet -- Admiral Michikan Nozu's Third Army had landed in Dalian, just three days earlier, and then, yesterday, the main force of Admiral Okuhoko's Second Army had also been transferred back -- the two armies, plus the six battleships of the First Fleet, the Japanese had absolute superiority, and perhaps it was time to consider whether the Russians would surrender immediately, and nothing else.

At least theoretically, this time, luck will not help the Russians.

"Oh,!" Qin Lang sighed.

"How?"

Qin Lang didn't answer, but asked rhetorically: "How long do you think the Russian army in Lushun Fortress can hold out?" ”

"I don't know." O'Connor replied, crisply, without thinking about it at all. His eyes told Qin Lang that he had left him with the hope of answering questions.

Qin Lang smiled bitterly in his heart. "Anatoly commanded the Arthur Fortress. Lieutenant General Stessel is an arrogant and timid fellow, and frankly, I fear that he will give up resistance. He said, going around in circles as usual, "Of course, Makarov can stop him, but ......"

"What's the point?" O'Connor took out his pocket watch and glanced at it, "I still have something to do, Qin, you arranged it, I have to have a secret meeting with representatives of the Japanese government to discuss new arms deal contracts......"

"Yes, and to sell them our new toy, the blaster, I remember that...... Hell, it's time for our conversation to end. O'Connor's words reminded Qin Lang. He looked at his watch, then stood up, quickly packing up his desk.

Whatever else is left to say, it's too late now.

His movements confused O'Connor. "What's going on? Are you in a hurry? ”

"I'm sorry, Sean," Qin Lang replied, speaking as fast as he moved, "but I'm about to attend an important meeting, and there are seven more meetings waiting for me today." ”

"What!" O'Connor felt he had misheard.

Eight meetings, and all today! He had never seen Qin Lang arrange his work like this: usually, unless he had something particularly urgent, he would only arrange three or four meetings in a day, and then spend the extra time on the activities he liked. But today, apparently, there were no particularly urgent events that could disrupt his schedule, and there would not have been so many urgent events that he needed to solve in a single day.

O'Connor began to be curious. "What meetings are you going to?"

"Four are on my schedule, and the other four are on Rachel's place." Qin Lang replied and put the last document in the safe.

"Instead of Rachel?"

"Yes. I'm going to one of them, a conference of the Hommel Foods Company, to discuss its advertising plan for its new products. Qin Lang said, and then complained half-truthfully: "You know, I don't like this kind of meeting at all. ”

But he had to attend this meeting. Qin Lang knew. For the past few years, Khomel Foods has only one product, which is the canned luncheon meat that he developed himself. For a company, this is not a good sign. While canned luncheon meat has been selling well, and Americans love this cheap food made from pork skins, minced meat, and offal, there comes a time when they get tired of it, and food companies have to prepare for it.

And those guys who don't eat pork, Jews and Muslims, how can a qualified business let them go?

And now, now that the food company has come up with a new product and is about to start producing and selling it, he must attend that meeting.

And then there's the next one, the regular meeting of Tri-Cell Bank. It was an important plan, but it was also a nuisance—it had expanded to four states, and with nearly seven hundred outlets at the bottom, it would never be easy to manage. Fortunately, the bank had a great managing director, and Rachel's assistant had all the material in order, otherwise he wouldn't have had time to discuss with O'Connor what was happening in the Far East and Europe.

And now small talk.

Qin Lang shrugged his shoulders again and walked towards the office door.

O'Connor immediately followed. "What's new?"

"Canned beef luncheon, and I've heard that food companies are developing canned lamb and chicken."

"Sounds pretty good." O'Connor was a little insincere: even after all these years, he still had a psychological shadow about canned luncheon meat, and even the thought of it was unappetizing. Without a moment's delay, he quickly jumped away from the topic. "Where's Rachel, though?"

"Los Angeles." Qin Lang replied, "Someone invited her to watch the opera. ”

"Anyone?" O'Connor repeated the word, then again in an emphatic tone.

"What are you thinking?" Qin Lang blinked, "Maybe I should remind you that Yi Shui is with her." ”

"What the hell is going on?"

He still didn't answer positively. "If someone investigates the whereabouts of the Russian minister to the United States, then he will find out that this gentleman is also in Los Angeles."

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PS: I'm very depressed (to be continued, if you want to know what will happen next, please log in to the www.qidian.com, more chapters, support the author, support genuine reading!) (To be continued.) )