Chapter 2251 - 3: His Kindness

Chapter 2251: Chapter 3: His Kindness

"Hmph~ In 1990, the Detroit Pistons played the Portland Trail Blazers in the Finals. Before Game 3, a bunch of Pistons fans went to the hotel where the Blazers players were staying to make trouble, trying to mess with them. A group of Chinese people with clubs showed up at the same place and beat those fans senseless, and after that nobody dared go back to harass them. Leading the charge were these two guys."

Gan Wenshan had some prejudice against the Feng Brothers, because he knew that back then, the ones who threatened and drove off his first love were definitely these two. The brothers were the most loyal and reliable subordinates in the family, and at the same time the coldest and most brutal. They came from the military, had been tempered by cruel wars, and were indifferent to life and death. Years of prosperous living in America not only failed to corrupt or soften them, it actually made the two brothers even more vicious. Growing up, Gan Wenshan had heard many stories about them. In Vegas they managed a loyal violent organization, whose members were mostly firefighters who lost their jobs after 9/11.

"That was arranged by External Security." Gan Wenyi said. Although she hadn’t been born yet at the time, you could always dig up some information about certain things. In America, urban legends and gossip about Gan Guoyang were practically a field of study in themselves, all kinds of versions bubbling up endlessly, detailed and vivid.

"Forget that stuff! I heard Michael Jackson is here! He’s going to perform!"

"Oh my God!"

Everyone, young and old, poured out of the private room to go outside and see Michael Jackson. Even the always composed Gan Wenyi quickened her pace, afraid she’d fall behind and not get a clear look at Jackson’s face.

"I’ve heard for ages that your dad has a great relationship with Michael Jackson."

"More than just great. When I was little I went to Dream Manor every year to play."

"Really? Don’t tell me..."

"You mean, does he like children? Rumors. But to be honest, I can’t entirely guarantee anything. At least he never did anything to me. He’s a very nice person, just not firm or tough enough. My guess is he’s in trouble again. Every time he comes to my dad, it’s because he’s hit a rough patch."

Gan Wenshan went out together with everyone. In the plaza outside, Michael Jackson made a dazzling entrance, just like at a concert.

It was still the signature sunglasses, the shining beige jacket and the white diamond-studded glove. Whenever he appeared in public he was always that different from everyone else, yet it somehow felt perfectly natural.

Almost everyone present was a fan of his. Surrounded by the crowd, he had no choice but to take the microphone and, on the stage that had already been set up for him, sing "Billy King." A helicopter appeared in the sky—it was a local TV station’s crew, broadcasting live from the scene. That was Michael Jackson’s influence, turning a restaurant’s opening ceremony into his own concert.

At that moment, on the second floor, Gan Wenjiang entered a small office. This was where Gan Guoyang received guests.

Generally speaking, when Gan Guoyang met with people, he would have Gan Guohui with him. He discussed everything: big things like acquisitions and investments involving hundreds of millions of US Dollars, and small things like finding a job for the cousin’s husband’s younger brother of some employee’s relative. Gan Guoyang concerned himself with every detail—that was his way of doing things. He had Superman-level energy, astonishing memory, and processing capacity, and he liked to fill up his daily life by putting all of that to use.

This time, Gan Guoyang had also brought in Gan Wenjiang. Although he was still very young, Gan Guoyang wanted him to be more involved in managing family affairs.

The subprime crisis of 2008 had more than doubled Gan Guoyang’s assets. Now his entire business empire was so huge it was almost suffering from indigestion, and he was urgently in need of promoting people he could trust. Just like when he played ball, Gan Guoyang firmly believed that those who shared his bloodline were the ones most worth trusting. It was just that Gan Wenshan had chosen to play ball, so naturally he wanted to put more effort into grooming this nephew.

When he entered, there was already a middle-aged man sitting in the room, his hair gray, his face somewhat gaunt and withered.

He was wearing a light green work uniform and kept covering his mouth to cough. Gan Guoyang first gestured for Gan Wenjiang to sit off to the side, then turned to the middle-aged man and said gently, "Kane, why didn’t you come to me sooner? You know that every 9/11 hero will be well taken care of here. I’ve read your hospital report—your condition isn’t great. You need proper treatment."

The middle-aged man coughed twice more and said, "I thought the government wouldn’t abandon us... And Vegas is too far. I’ve always been in New York. I thought..."

His name was Kane Miller. After the 9/11 attacks in 2001, he and his comrades rushed into the wreckage of the World Trade Center to carry out rescue operations. Because they weren’t equipped with adequate protective gear, the mixture of asbestos, heavy metals, toxic dust, and searing smoke in the ruins left him with severe long-term aftereffects.

America’s authorities only issued compensation to rescuers who died on the scene or were severely injured, ignoring the invisible damage caused by toxic dust. Several years after the rescue ended, Kane developed asthma, lung function impairment, chronic respiratory inflammation, and other conditions, and he suffered severe post-traumatic stress disorder. His body and mind were completely shattered. Having lost his ability to work, he spent years repeatedly applying to the 9/11 Victim Compensation Fund and various special relief programs to cover his medical costs and ease his family’s burden, only to be met again and again with rejection and bureaucratic buck-passing.

Because the authorities refused to pay for purely psychological trauma, his severe PTSD didn’t meet the compensation criteria. Meanwhile his physical illnesses were classified as long-latency post-disaster conditions, with onset years after the rescue. Officials used "no way to directly prove that the illnesses are exclusively linked to the 9/11 rescue" as a reason to question whether his injuries were related, and as time went on, the compensation funds grew smaller, public attention kept fading, and endless turf wars and buck-passing between federal and local governments left Kane, together with many colleagues and comrades, hovering on the brink of poverty and even death.

A significant number of them chose to go to Las Vegas to seek help from Gan Guoyang and received treatment and placement there, but many others didn’t want to leave New York and still believed the government would give them reasonable compensation, refusing to come to Vegas.

However, over the last two years, more and more people had come for help, because getting approval from the foundation was practically a distant dream—you might well die before the money was ever granted. With Gan Guoyang, not only could they immediately get medical treatment, they could also get a decent job. Security guard, cleaner, doorman—although all low-level positions, the management here was very humane, the pay quite good, and lodging free of charge. In other places this was simply unimaginable.

Of course, everything comes at a price. Sometimes they had to do work for the Group that went beyond their formal job description. The vast majority had no objections to this; their unfair treatment in the past had filled them with rage inside.

Kane Miller was the same. He had served in the military, in the Marine Corps. He had sworn loyalty to the country, only to be abandoned. He had lost not only his health and job, but also his family. Now he was alone, and all he wanted was to come to Vegas and keep living, to live on in a different way.

"We’ve got a lot of cases like yours here. Go downstairs and find a place to sit, and in a bit have a good meal. Eating properly is more important than anything. I’ll make arrangements for the rest. Oh, and I think Michael Jackson is here. Go listen to him sing—this is a rare opportunity."

Gan Guoyang heard Michael Jackson’s voice and knew his good friend had arrived. He was sure Michael also had something to ask of him—this guy had been in nonstop trouble these last two years.

Kane Miller hugged Gan Guoyang emotionally, gripping his hand tightly in thanks. Off to the side, Gan Guohui whispered to Gan Wenjiang, "In today’s world, having someone who’s willing to give his life for you is extremely, extremely rare. Because of that, you gain tremendous power—that’s something entirely different from ordinary employees or subordinates. That’s one of the reasons your uncle insists on meeting these ’small people’ in person and helping them... one reason among others."

"Among others? What else?"

"Also, he’s kind."

After Kane Miller left the room, Gan Guoyang said to Gan Wenjiang, "The procedures for placing 9/11 firefighters are already very well established. Let Ah Jiang handle this one."

Gan Wenjiang nodded. Gan Guoyang went on, "Michael’s started singing again. His level seems to have slipped a bit. Make him a stewed pear at lunchtime to clear his throat and moisten his lungs."