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Chapter 388c
🕑 Added 2025-09-21 21:53:45 +0000 UTCChapter 388c
2-in-1-chapter
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“But that’s their opinion—not mine. I don’t see you that way. I believe you genuinely care about the people, that deep down, you truly want to help them live better, more dignified lives.”
“Your ideals are admirable. But have you considered—assuming Aurora PMC can easily defeat the insurgents and drive the Shining Group out of Bolivia—when you gain full control of this country, what will you rely on to improve the lives of its people?”
“Please, don’t interrupt me. Just hear me out.”
“Bolivia was once part of the Inca Empire, later becoming a colony of Spain. In the early 19th century, it declared independence.”
“It was named after the liberator Simón Bolívar—first called the Republic of Bolívar, later changed to the Republic of Bolivia.”
“After its founding, it briefly united with Peru to form the Peru–Bolivian Confederation, but that union collapsed within a few years. Later, it lost a war to Chile and forfeited its coastline, becoming a landlocked nation.”
“Then it went to war with Paraguay and lost even more territory, followed by decades of frequent military coups and political instability that continue to this day.”
“As you may know, although Bolivia is rich in natural resources, it remains one of the poorest countries in Latin America.”
“Only 3% of the nation’s land is arable. Domestic food production meets just one-third of the population’s needs. The rest is imported.”
“How do you plan to change such a poor country after taking office? You can’t possibly rely entirely on exporting natural resources, can you? Bolivia’s natural resources are abundant, yes—but leaning solely on their export is nothing more than drinking poison to quench your thirst. It’s unsustainable, a clear case of draining the pond to catch fish.”
Gustavo spoke endlessly, clearly having done his homework before coming. He had noticed that Leo was different from President Antón—he wasn’t the typical kind of Latin American leader who treated the country like a personal piggy bank. Leo resembled someone more like Allende.
So Gustavo shifted his approach, trying to appeal from a different angle.
It looked as though he was deeply concerned about Bolivia’s future, and Leo’s—but in truth, he only cared about himself and completing the task his employer from the Shining Group had given him.
Leo gave a cold sneer.
“So after all that talk, what you’re really trying to say is: only by continuing to develop coca leaves can Bolivia be saved. That’s the only way the country can be rebuilt. Isn’t that right, Mr. Gustavo?”
Now that it had come to this, Gustavo no longer bothered to hide it.
“That’s right. Whether it’s agriculture or industry, neither can truly elevate Bolivia’s economy. And it’s not just Bolivia—this is the shared reality across South America.”
“Europe only began to rise during the Age of Exploration. The United States wasn’t even founded until the 18th century. South American nations gained independence late, and our development was slow. No matter how hard we try, we’re never going to overtake others on the tracks they already dominate.”
“But thankfully, we have our own track—the one that suits us best: Shining.”
“Sure, the US and European countries are developed and advanced. But their people are lazy, indulgent—and they’re addicted to Shining. Not just junkies—even the so-called elites are constantly inhaling the stuff.”
“South America and the Golden Triangle are the two most important regions for raw Shining cultivation. If we want to grow economically, this is the only realistic path.”
“My employer asked me to relay a message: he’s willing to support you as the country’s next president. He can offer you even more support than what was given during President Antón’s administration. The only condition is…”
“He hopes you’ll allow him to retain his current territories and not interfere with our ongoing Shining trade.”
“Of course, we would only sell Shining to Europe and the United States—it would never circulate within Bolivia. And Bolivia would still profit from the trade. I really don’t see any reason why you’d refuse. Don’t you agree?”
Leo’s expression didn’t change. There was no reading what he was thinking.
He simply said, “So your employer’s rich, huh?”
Gustavo thought Leo was finally wavering, so he jumped on it.
“Very rich. Extremely. Whatever share he offers you, I guarantee it’ll be more than satisfactory.”
Perfect.
Leo smiled.
He had originally planned to leave the Shining Group for later.
But if they were sitting on that much money…
Then there was no need to wait.
They’d be the first to go.
“Mr. Gustavo, your proposal is… interesting. But I do have a small question. I hope you can help clarify it for me.”
Gustavo beamed.
To him, Leo was already in the bag.
Just another Antón 2.0.
“Please, Mr. Leo. Ask anything. I’ll be completely honest.”
“Oh, it’s not that big of a deal. The question is quite simple actually. Since your employer is so rich, and the entire Shining Group is so well-funded, why is it that he’s only offering part of that wealth to support me—why not all of it?”
Gustavo stared at Leo, confusion and suspicion flickering across his face.
He immediately sensed the shift in the air.
“Mr. Leo, I’m not sure I understand your meaning.”
“What I mean is: if I kill all of you, then everything you own becomes mine anyway.”
The moment the last word fell, Leo vanished from in front of Gustavo’s eyes.
Gustavo instinctively tried to turn and flee the room, but before he could even move a foot, a surge of agony pulsed through the neural slot at the back of his neck.
From his cervical spine downward, all strength drained from his body like a receding tide.
He collapsed onto the ground like a sack of wet sludge.
“Takemura,” Leo called out.
From outside the meeting room, Takemura Gorō immediately stepped in—he’d been waiting just beyond the door the entire time.
“Crack his ICE. Check what’s inside his neural link. Then use his implants to call his boss. Tell them everything went smoothly—that I’ve agreed to work with them. That’ll buy us some time.”
Takemura nodded seriously, then pulled a black personal interface cable from his wrist and plugged it into the port at the back of Gustavo’s neck.
Gustavo’s eyes were wide with terror as he watched Takemura work.
But with a signal jammer clipped directly to his neural slot, installed by Leo just moments ago, Gustavo was powerless.
There was nothing he could do—only stare helplessly as Takemura operated.
Then everything went dark. Takemura severed his sensory output from the neural link, plunging him into unconsciousness.
Outwardly, Takemura looked like nothing more than muscle.
But in truth, he was also a seasoned electronic warfare specialist.
He wasn’t on Lucy’s level when it came to hacking—but compared to the average netrunner, his skills were leagues above.
Still, he soon stopped what he was doing and unplugged the cable.
It wasn’t out of mercy.
It was because Gustavo’s neural link was protected by multiple layers of failsafe mechanisms.
These weren’t just high-grade ICE designed to defend against intrusion.
The real danger wasn’t the ICE.
It was the deeply buried subroutine hidden within the neural link.
At first glance, it looked like a harmless background utility—something like a digital housekeeping app meant to clean junk files, manage cache, or scan for viruses.
But it was actually the last line of defense.
If all prior layers of ICE were breached, this subroutine would immediately activate—destroying the neural link in less than a second.
Takemura was well-versed in electronic warfare, but he wasn’t among the top-tier netrunners.
And he knew full well: the intel inside Gustavo’s head was worth more than Gustavo’s life.
So once he identified the subroutine for what it was, he didn’t dare push further. He reported the situation to Leo.
He had assumed the neural link would just be equipped with commercial-grade ICE.
He hadn’t expected a self-destruct mechanism.
But Leo didn’t believe for a second that Gustavo had installed it willingly.
