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Chapter 374c
🕑 Added 2025-09-06 15:05:01 +0000 UTCChapter 374c
2-in-1-chapter
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Rather than simply walking away from the region, Leo claimed it outright.
This had always been part of his broader strategy.
If the goal was to crush corporate colonialism, then one had to amass power that could rival the megacorps—and in the world of 2077, the only force capable of matching corporate influence was that of a nation.
Besides, this wasn’t territory seized from government forces. It had been taken from anti-government militants.
If Aurora PMC did nothing and merely holed up in its own small operational zone, the eastern region of Bolivia would have remained in the hands of the rebels regardless. It would never have fallen into the government’s control under any circumstance.
Given that reality, Leo reasoned, it was better for the territory to be controlled by Aurora PMC—a formal ally of the government—than by insurgents openly hostile to the state.
It was unclear whether the President of Bolivia had come to the same conclusion, but from beginning to end, he never asked Leo to relinquish control of the eastern territories. Even though it was obvious that the rebels had been driven out, the President said nothing, as if tacitly acknowledging that Aurora PMC had inherited the region.
While Aurora PMC was thriving, the government forces had experienced the opposite over the past year—their situation had only worsened.
Half of the "Basilisk" armored vehicles and "Scorpion-Tail Lion" heavy combat drones that Leo had helped procure for them were destroyed in combat; the other half had been captured by the insurgents.
To say that the government troops were hopeless would have been generous.
At first, Mitch and the others couldn’t understand why—no matter how much they trained the soldiers—once real bullets started flying, the government troops fell apart.
They had fought the anti-government forces themselves and knew those rebels could be ruthless, but that cruelty was mostly reserved for civilians. The moment their opponents had weapons and resisted, the rebels would often collapse like a troop of frightened monkeys.
But after Leo personally traveled to the front line to observe a battle between government troops and insurgents, the reason for their incompetence became clear.
Simply put, the government troops lacked conviction. They had no belief in what they were fighting for—and no incentive either.
In Asian and European nations, military service is commonly viewed as a duty to the nation—something few would question.
But in Bolivia, enlisting in the military was seen purely as a job—a way to earn a salary. And even that salary was often delayed or withheld entirely.
Unpaid wages were devastating to morale.
Beyond that, Leo discovered another major issue: the deep divide between officers and enlisted personnel in the Bolivian military.
With corps like Arasaka or Militech, officers typically stayed back from the front not out of cowardice, but to preserve the command structure—a necessary precaution.
At Aurora PMC, officers fought side by side with the troops. They wore custom-engineered Falchion exoskeleton armor tailored by Leo himself—gear so resilient that stray bullets or even glancing explosive rounds posed little threat. As long as they weren’t being directly targeted by heavy weapons, they’d survive.
Aurora’s officers didn’t shout “You go!”—they led with “Follow me!” That was why their soldiers were willing to charge alongside them.
But the officers of the Bolivian military stayed in the rear—not for strategic reasons, but because they feared for their own lives.
They came from elite backgrounds, while the enlisted men were mostly poor and uneducated. The officers, many of whom had studied at foreign military academies, looked down on their rank-and-file soldiers, most of whom couldn’t even read.
So when battles broke out, government officers didn’t even go to the front-line command posts. They stayed safe in the rear, directing operations by map and radio.
This method of command inevitably resulted in missed opportunities—and these officers showed no regard for the lives of their soldiers, often ordering reckless frontal assaults. Their tactics were as thoughtless as the Japanese military's notorious "banzai charges" in the Showa era.
When leaders treated their troops as expendable, it was no wonder the rank-and-file responded with apathy and foot-dragging.
Once combat started, the soldiers would blindly fire from behind cover, barely aiming, and when ordered to advance, they would stall and crawl forward at a snail’s pace. If the tide turned against them even slightly, they fled faster than rabbits.
They would even abandon Basilisk armored vehicles, not because they were disabled, but because the vehicles were too conspicuous to escape in. By leaving them behind, they hoped to distract the enemy and slip away.
Top to bottom, the Bolivian government military was a mess. With so many flaws stacked on top of one another, it was a miracle they hadn’t collapsed entirely.
No surprise, then, that the national situation remained unstable and the government forces were constantly on the back foot.
…............
......
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Two weeks later, just outside the capital, La Paz.
A stretch limousine and four modified Humvees sat parked along the roadside.
Around them stood a team of armed men in black suits, eyes alert, hands on their weapons—an unmistakable perimeter.
This was the Presidential Guard—the last shred of pride for the Bolivian military.
They were not to be compared with the rest of the government’s forces. They operated on a completely different level.
Inside the limousine, the President sat checking his watch repeatedly, his expression tense and impatient.
He was waiting for someone.
At last, an armored SUV appeared in the distance.
It approached steadily, then stopped a hundred meters short of the convoy.
Leo and Goro Takemura stepped out of the vehicle.
The moment the President saw Leo, his anxious expression melted away, replaced by excitement and relief.
He rushed out of the car, brushing past his own guards in his eagerness, laughing as he walked toward Leo.
“Leo, my friend! Hahaha!”
“Mr. President. It's good to see you.”
A few days earlier, Leo had received a direct call from the President, inviting him to the capital on urgent matters.
Saul and the others had objected strongly to Leo going in person. At the very least, they insisted he should bring several combat squads as backup.
They feared that the President might use the invitation as a pretext to detain Leo in La Paz and pressure Aurora PMC into handing over eastern Bolivia.
But Leo disagreed.
The government’s position was already precarious. In addition to Aurora PMC, two other forces were active in the region—the anti-government rebels and the Shimmer Group.
Under those circumstances, the President had no reason to provoke him.
After all, government forces still relied on Aurora PMC for training and equipment.
Unless the President had taken leave of his senses, he wouldn’t risk crossing them.
So Leo had rejected the proposal to bring backup squads.
In the end, he brought only one person—Goro Takemura.
After a few polite greetings, the President gestured toward the limousine and said, “Come, let’s ride together.”
Leo didn’t hesitate. “Let’s go, Goro.”
But just as Leo was about to step into the car with Takemura, the President suddenly interjected.
“Please wait a moment, Leo. My car is a bit cramped. I’m afraid there’s not enough room for your bodyguard. Would you mind having him ride in one of the other vehicles?”
Takemura said nothing. He simply looked to Leo for instruction.
He no longer wore Arasaka’s standard cyberware. Viktor had replaced all of it with a different but equally advanced set of implants.
Takemura, in his prime, had returned.
If Leo had refused, Takemura would have acted in an instant.
It would have taken only 0.1 seconds for him to subdue the president.
And naturally, eliminating the entire Presidential Guard wouldn’t have posed any difficulty either.
In his eyes, this so-called final façade of the government forces was no different from a flock of chickens or a pack of stray dogs—utterly worthless.
But Leo merely gave a slight smile.
“It’s fine, Takemura. Ride with them.”
If they were dealing with an ordinary person with no combat capability, Leo might have considered the risk to his own safety.
But Leo was no ordinary person.
Moreover, he had just silently activated his tactical goggles and scanned both the president and the extended limo.
The president did have combat-grade cyberware, but nothing that surpassed Leo’s own systems.
As for the limo, it was just a standard armored luxury vehicle, nothing special.
There was nothing to be concerned about.
Seeing Leo say this, Takemura said nothing more—he simply nodded, then obediently walked to the other vehicle and got in.
After Leo and the president entered the car, there were four other people already inside: a driver and four bodyguards.
Even with that many occupants, the interior of the limo remained spacious.
Leo didn’t bother to comment on that.
“Your bodyguard appears to be extremely capable,” the president said. “Mr. Leo, would you consider transferring him to me? I’m willing to trade a gold mine in exchange.”
