Chapter 376
2-in-1-chapter
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If the record was anything to go by, the answer was no.
Aurora might capture a village and move on, only for the rebels to launch a counterattack and force the government troops to collapse. Then Aurora would have to retake the village all over again.
And if just one clever commander among the insurgents realized that Aurora PMC's strength was stretched thin, they could avoid direct engagements altogether—focusing instead on destroying the weaker government forces.
Under those conditions, Leo and his company would never succeed in fully clearing out the insurgency.
Even if, hypothetically, Leo were to help the President wipe out both the insurgents and the Shining Group—completing the unification of the country—if the elites continued to govern as they always had, then fresh rebellions would inevitably arise again and again.
Leo's refusal to give an immediate answer clearly disappointed the President. His expression darkened with frustration.
"I... I understand. Then let's delay the matter for now."
"Mm."
For the rest of the ride, the atmosphere in the vehicle was heavy with silence.
Neither Leo nor the President said another word.
Suddenly, the limousine came to a violent stop.
Both men lurched forward from the abrupt braking.
"Dammit! What the hell is going on?!"
The President, already irritable from Leo's refusal, erupted in anger. The unexpected stop made him feel even more humiliated, as though he'd lost the facade of control.
The driver, visibly trembling, spoke after communicating with the lead vehicle in the convoy, which carried members of the Presidential Guard.
"Your Excellency… there are refugees blocking the road ahead."
"Refugees, just…" the President began, but abruptly fell silent.
Under normal circumstances, he would have simply ordered the guards to remove them—like kicking aside stray animals in the road.
Just as the President was about to issue the command, a sudden thought struck him.
He remembered that he wasn't the only one inside the limousine.
Over the past year, the President had heard of what Aurora PMC had been doing in eastern Bolivia.
Though he and the elite class didn't agree with their methods—believing it was no different from tossing piles of cash into the sea—they had come to understand what kind of people made up Aurora PMC through those very actions.
Call it hypocrisy or misguided idealism.
Regardless, if he issued the usual order—telling the guards to clear the road by force—he risked offending Leo, who was sitting in the same vehicle.
With this in mind, the President reconsidered, then said:
"I think I'll go see for myself."
A few of the guards immediately responded, "Your Excellency, it's dangerous."
"What danger could there be? This is the capital. Everyone around us is one of my citizens."
He said it with righteous conviction, as if justice itself radiated from him.
And yet, when it came time to step out, he hesitated.
Only after the Presidential Guard formed a protective circle at the door did he finally exit the vehicle.
As he walked, six soldiers stayed close, maintaining a tight hexagonal formation around him.
Seeing the President step out, Leo followed. From the Hummer behind them, Takemura Goro also disembarked the moment he saw Leo move, quickly catching up.
The two of them trailed behind the President until they reached the lead Hummer at the front of the convoy.
There, they saw a man—clearly a refugee, judging by his tattered clothing—being beaten by several members of the Presidential Guard who had just exited the vehicle.
He was curled up, covering his head, screaming in pain, yet not daring to fight back.
The guards struck him with rifle butts and kicked him repeatedly, laughing loudly as they did so. Their faces were full of joy, as though bullying this man were some sort of achievement to be proud of.
The President, upon seeing this scene, felt a chill run down his spine.
Internally, he cursed his men for being brainless pigs. He quickly glanced at Leo, then shouted:
"Stop that! Immediately!"
The soldiers obeyed only after realizing the President had spoken.
The man they had beaten was now covered in blood, his body a patchwork of bruises and gashes.
The President walked over and looked at him, then asked the soldiers:
"What happened here?"
One soldier straightened sharply, standing at attention with his legs together, chest out, and stomach pulled in, then responded loudly and clearly:
"Your Excellency! Apologies! I'll dispose of him immediately!"
He had assumed the President was angry because they hadn't removed the refugee quickly enough to clear the road.
He hadn't noticed the President's face turn pale at his words, nor the fire beginning to burn in his eyes.
If not for the public setting—if not for the presence of Leo and Takemura—if not for the need to maintain appearances and avoid being seen as a tyrant…
The President might have shot the soldier on the spot for his stupidity.
He stole another glance at Leo, relieved to see that he hadn't shown any sign of anger or displeasure.
That gave him room to breathe.
After all, he was asking for something from Leo right now. Displeasing him was the last thing he could afford.
Seeing that Leo remained calm, the President turned back to the soldier and, with a harsher tone, demanded:
"I asked you—what happened here? Answer me, soldier! Who gave the order to beat this man like that?!"
The soldier who had spoken earlier was stunned.
The President had never spoken like this before.
Not toward refugees. Not even toward ordinary citizens of the capital. He had never treated them as real people.
Why was he suddenly acting so concerned?
He couldn't understand it…
But the order had been given, so the soldier answered honestly:
"Your Excellency, the man said both his daughters are sick."
"If they're sick, then take them to a hospital. This is the capital. There are hospitals. Why come here to block the road instead?"
"Your… Your Excellency," the man on the ground spoke weakly. He coughed up a mouthful of blood and said haltingly, "Please… please help me. My wife… she's already dead. All I have left are my two daughters. We gave up everything to escape. I don't have a single cent left."
"Please… I beg you, Mr. President. I can't lose my daughters."
The President softened his expression.
He had planned to crouch down and take the man's hand—something that would make his act seem more genuine.
But as he bent forward, the stench of sweat mixed with the iron tang of blood hit his nose.
He glanced at the man's hand, caked with blood and filth, and immediately pulled back.
He stood up again.
Perhaps realizing how bad it would look to tower over the man from above, the President turned to the soldiers nearby who were still awaiting orders.
He said:
"If he was in trouble and had to block the road for help, how could you beat him like this? Haven't I taught you anything?"
"He said he needed a doctor, right? Then take his daughters to the best hospital in the city. Don't worry about the cost—the Presidential Palace will cover everything."
"Uh…"
At those words, not only were the soldiers who had just beaten the man stunned—even the guards escorting the President were at a loss.
This wasn't the President they knew.
The man they worked for—the one supported by the elites—had never cared about civilians. Certainly not enough to pay for one's hospital bill.
Why the sudden change?
"What are you standing around for? Didn't you hear me? Do as I said!"
The President's second outburst snapped the soldiers out of their daze.
They lifted the man onto the Hummer.
None of them knew what was going on, but the President had spoken. That was all that mattered.
In this country, laws were just scraps of paper—tools crafted by the privileged to protect their rule.
If anything ever felt inconvenient, they rewrote the rules.
A presidential decree held more weight than any statute.
So when he gave the order, no one dared to question it. The soldiers immediately started the Hummer and drove in the direction of the man's home.
The surrounding civilians stood frozen, stunned.
In their minds, the refugee should have already been dragged off, discarded like trash.
How could he now be receiving an escort from the Presidential Guard?
How was it possible that his daughters were being sent to a hospital… for free… with the bill covered by the state?
It didn't make sense.
They couldn't understand what was happening—but that didn't stop them from realizing one thing: this was an opportunity.
Suddenly, the crowd surged forward.
Civilians surrounded the President, all talking over each other.
The guards standing around him immediately raised their weapons, shouting for everyone to keep their distance.