"Mr. Tuka, this should be the township office, right?"

Looking at the red and white four-story building in front of him, Mr. Bokron asked uncertainly.

Mailang Township is very prosperous.

As the governing office of Tianyuan District, the naturalized population here alone exceeds 1,000, almost reaching the total population of the remaining two townships or nine villages. There are people coming and going on the streets, and Mr. Bokron is dazzled.

Mr. Tuka nodded and pointed to the rows of houses and said: "The street is the chapel, the district hall is in the middle, and the township office is at the end of the street. This is the most convenient notation for this street."

"In the middle is the district hall? That white building with a blue roof?"

"Yes, did you see the flag on the top of the building? It is the regional flag of Tianyuan District. It seems that you can only see it here and in the city hall."

Mr. Bokron suddenly realized, but he was full of doubts after he knew it.

"Why is the district office not as big as the township office?"

"It's not because of the villagers' meeting." Mr. Tuka pouted, "I told you that the meeting will announce the donations of each household to the village, right?"

Mr. Bokron nodded.

"At that time, the lawyer used Mailang Township to give me an example. Their village meeting was on the 20th of next month, but the time was announced two months ago. Mr. Ferrero, the rich man in Mailang Township, issued a gold coin and one ticket. The election subsidy also invested 3,000 gold coins for the township fund to rush to build a building."

"Three...three thousand?" Mr. Bokron couldn't imagine the large sum of money, and asked dumbfounded, "Isn't he going to win?"

"Not necessarily." Mr. Tuka stomped the slate floor under his feet. "This stone street and the fountain square we just passed by were donated by another rich man, Mr. Olas, and his election subsidy was also a gold coin. One sheet."

"Competing for financial resources..."

"After all, the election law supports it."

Mr. Bokron swallowed: "Mr. Tuka, that election subsidy, if someone breaks the promise..."

"It's impossible for this to happen." Tuka smiled. "The lawyer told me that the person who announced the subsidy must hand over the money equivalent to the unanimous vote to the preparatory committee one week before the election, and the scrutineer will distribute it on the spot. No Candidates who submit or submit insufficient numbers will be made public, so that they almost lose the possibility of being elected."

"It's so thoughtful." Birkelon said with envy, "No wonder you have to rush to call a meeting before the rich move in."

"Yeah." Tuka sighed helplessly. "Compared with the rich, our promise is too weak."

Burkron suddenly thought of something: "Mr. Tuka, before I came, I heard from the village chief of Arhan that Farm No. 3 has been sold. If the rich man moved into the village before our meeting..."

"The village meeting has been determined, and the people who moved in later cannot be changed. But he can propose subsidies, he can make donations in a few days, or he can run for the committee or even the chairman."

"If he is elected chairman, will he deny the village agreement we drafted?"

"The chairman of the committee can't restrict the villagers' speech, and there is only one vote when voting. As long as we are united, he can't change anything." Tuka clenched his fists as if to cheer himself up, "As long as we are united, when we vote on winning or losing , We always have the final say."

Boclone stopped talking.

Unity is a false proposition, because if the poor are really united, the rich will not win the election at all, let alone be chairman of the committee.

He suddenly remembered what Alhan had said when he suggested that they hire a lawyer.

[I know what you want, but you don’t say it well, only a lawyer can put your demands away and let the village go in the direction you want].

At that time, Boclone was only able to express himself for Arhan because he was worried that their group of farmers were not good at expressing it. Now when he recalled it, he realized that the meaning in his words was completely different. It is very likely that Arhan had seen it now, and even in the future. I saw it.

He suddenly felt troubled by gains and losses.

Six gold coins may be nothing to the rich, but to the poor who have only experienced leaving their homes and rely on immigration subsidies from the Drake Chamber of Commerce to feed their children, it is a lot of money. One... just in case...

"Mr. Tula, the lawyer can really keep what we want, right?"

"I don't know." Tula's voice was low, "but if you do, you will at least have a chance. If you don't do it...what are we leaving home for?"

For a better life!

Bokron didn't say this sentence, but through his eyes, Tula had confirmed his answer.

Tula patted him **** the shoulder and laughed: "Go, go to a lawyer."

Bokron nodded his head: "Mr. Tula, where is the lawyer?"

"There are two lawyers in Mailang Township. One of them is near the Fountain Square, but the fees are very high. Simple consultation costs 20 or 30 gold, and we can't afford to hire them."

"The other person's office is in the township office. The charge is very cheap, only one-tenth of the previous person's, and the reputation of the two parties is almost the same, at least not as big as the price difference."

This kind of weird thing, Boclone has heard it strange these days.

He smiled clearly: "I understand that the lawyer must have been arranged by the Drake Chamber of Commerce for those of us who are poor. Just like those good deeds, he mainly receives subsidies from the Chamber of Commerce, right?"

"This..." Turka scratched his head embarrassedly, "It seems there is a slight difference."

"difference?"

"According to Mr. Lawyer's own statement, his job is an accountant at the township office, a professional financial professional with accounting qualifications. As for the problem of low fees for lawyers, part-time is not the main reason, and more importantly, he does not seem to have obtained a legal professional. Qualifications..."

Bokron's mind suddenly couldn't turn a bit: "Unqualified means..."

"It means that the court has never recognized him as a lawyer."

"puff!"

...

The fake lawyer is a real accountant. The work of the township office adds an extremely important sense of credibility to this barefoot doctor-like identity. More importantly, besides him, the residents of Elk Grove simply cannot afford to hire a second legal consultant. .

For a variety of reasons, Boclone quickly chose trust in his heart.

The two registered in the foyer of the township office and entered the small building to find a lawyer. Halfway through, a large group of Indians filed out of a large conference room.

I don't know if it was an illusion, Boclon felt the solemn and tense atmosphere.

The Indians walking in front wore black crests and painted oil on their faces. They looked gloomy and kept away from strangers.

The Indians walking behind exudes a familiar atmosphere of civilized society. A group of people guards the very tall youth in the middle, and keeps a subtle distance of three or four steps from the black feathers of the front team. It is not so much to see off. It's better to say it is escort.

Tula hurriedly pulled Bokron to one side, lowered his head, and watched the two groups of horses pass by.

The crowd is walking away...

At the moment when the large group was about to turn out of sight, Bokron suddenly heard the soft voices and whispers coming from the wind.

"Oldman, if Kurobabe stubbornly choose war, would we..."

"You don't need to do anything. The crude assassination will only make the natives of Florida share the same hatred." Zhuo Ge shook his head slightly, "As for the infantile declaration of war by Kurobabe, I will report it to the president immediately~lightnovelpub.net ~For this group of good-tempered neighbors, as far as I know, he and Manager Xavier have always had a plan."

"Yes……"

The intermittent voice finally dissipated here, and only Tula and Bockron were left in the bright corridor, shrinking on the side of the corridor, looking at each other.

Burkron looked at his companion in horror: "Mr. Tula, Indians...War?"

"Calm down, Mr. Bokron, calm down!"

Tula swallowed heavily.

"The two groups of Indians may have just chosen the town hall to negotiate, just as they chose to negotiate in Paris during the War of Independence a few years ago..."

"Furthermore, Miami and the Indian Plains are separated by the wide Miami River. Their war should not burn us..."

"And...and..." He dropped his shoulders dejectedly, "I think...we need to listen to Manager Arhan's opinion. Go back after finishing the draft, **** it, this is big news..."