Chapter 1048: Broadcast

On both sides of the long staircase leading to the Presidential Palace were many reporters, mainly from the Federation and the Jede Republic. The constant flashing of cameras made everyone walking up the long flight of stairs appear exceptionally serious.

They were expressionless, gazing up at the archway of the Presidential Palace, their faces etched with a special, almost sacred look.

Pedro walked in the center of the crowd, neither leading nor lagging behind.

Yet, most eyes were fixed on him.

In the time since these groups began calling themselves the "rebel army," people had gained sufficient understanding. They knew Pedro possessed significant strength among them and currently acted as the primary commander.

Many outsiders speculated that once the Ravila family's rule was overthrown, Pedro might become the new Great President.

It was less easy to guess whether they would continue the previous hereditary system or move toward a civilized electoral system.

Regardless of their choice, Pedro was bound to hold an important position.

As he reached the top of the stairs, he almost instinctively turned sideways to look back.

Below the long staircase were the neat ranks of soldiers and the gazing eyes of others looking up at him.

In this moment, the emotional turbulence within him reached its peak, but he showed no sign of it. He merely turned back and continued walking into the Presidential Palace.

The feeling... he didn't know how to describe it. It was like a climber who, after enduring hardship and difficulty, finally reaches the mountain summit.

The treacherous peaks and strange rocks vanished, the view opened up—blue skies, white clouds, and a boundless world!

It was a joy that permeated him from the inside out!

He nodded to those who had waited for him for two or three seconds and entered the Presidential Palace with everyone else.

Diego stood in the grand hall of the Presidential Palace. He wore his expensive-looking, somewhat comical Presidential uniform, but he appeared lethargic, his face displaying decay, numbness, and an expression others couldn't quite decipher.

He just stood there, staring woodenly as these people walked in from outside. Immediately, his body began to tremble slightly. He realized the game was over.

This also meant his life had reached its end.

He licked his lips. As the owner of the building, he wanted to speak first, but Pedro did not give him the chance.

"President Diego, this must be the first time we've met so closely, face-to-face," Pedro stepped out of the crowd and walked right up to Diego.

"I actually wanted to meet you a long time ago, but at that time, I didn't have the qualification."

"So, I had to meet you in this manner today."

He was slightly taller than Diego and thus looked down at him from a commanding height.

Diego had lost a lot of weight recently. In just two months, he looked to have lost at least twenty or twenty-five kilograms.

In fact, losing weight wasn't as difficult as he had imagined, just like quitting smoking or quitting any addiction.

Inability to do so was merely a form of self-indulgence deep in one's heart.

He always emphasized the difficulty, emphasized his inability, when in fact, these things were not that hard.

The thinner Diego looked a little comical. His clothes were clearly more than one size too large. In a short time, the butler couldn't find suitable clothes for him, so he just gave him one that wasn't too bad.

Diego looked up at Pedro, his lips pressed together, a hint of mockery on his face. "You think you've won?"

He could sense the excitement hidden in Pedro's tone—a small worm climbing to the tip of a tree, believing it owned the entire prairie.

This world was far more complicated than he imagined!

Pedro frowned slightly. The flashes from the surrounding reporters were relentless, and he couldn't show too "complex" an emotion right now.

He quietly asked, "Do you have any other cards to play?"

"Your soldiers, your family, the people you relied on—they have fled with their assets and troops. You have lost all opportunity and ability to turn the tables."

Diego shook his head slightly. He extended his hand and shook hands with Pedro, the "dragon slayer." "We are all merely pieces on a chessboard. As long as you haven't jumped off the board, you will forever be manipulated, Pedro."

"I truly have no means left to act against you or your people, but someone else does."

"From the very beginning, everything was planned."

He seemed more rational, calmer, and smarter now.

Facing death, he had discarded the things that clouded his thinking, leaving behind only his simpler self and his purer capacity for thought.

Pedro knew what he was referring to, and felt a slight internal gloom. The pleasure he felt from "summiting" was rapidly fading. "On such a joyous day, you say such unpleasant things. You truly are a bastard, Diego."

Diego's face remained numb. "It doesn't matter, actually."

Pedro seemed to agree with this viewpoint. "Indeed."

With that, he let go of Diego's hand, stepped back, and then raised his hand. Eight soldiers came from behind and surrounded Diego. "It is all over, for you."

"Next is your trial, Diego."

Diego looked at him, a slight smile finally appearing on his face. He said in a very quiet voice, "No one can judge me, and neither can you."

Pedro shook his head and ordered the soldiers to take him away and confine him. Meanwhile, he and the other rebel leaders began touring the Presidential Palace.

This building held profound meaning and symbolism for them. As lower-class people who were barred even from hotels, they had endured the worst of this country and grown up in the most difficult circumstances.

Now that they had reached the summit, they felt a unique sense of being different. Everything felt new, bright, and intimately familiar.

Finally, they arrived at Diego's office, the Presidential Office.

Pedro's heart pounded. He walked over to Diego's enormous chair and patted the backrest.

The feel of the thick leather gave him, for the first time, a sense that the chair was worth a significant amount of money just from the touch.

He felt an urge to sit down. This position, at this moment, was intensely tempting to him!

Just as he seemed momentarily lost in thought, Ross walked over, his hand also resting on the thick leather backrest of the chair.

Pedro's eyes flickered slightly. He smiled and moved away from that position that held such temptation for him.

In truth, how could he not want to be the Great President himself?

Yet, he understood one thing very clearly: he didn't have the capability, nor did anyone else in this room have the capacity or the right.

Rule is established upon might.

The Ravila family, or the other Rapa tribal families, all possessed that power.

If any of the ministers were to sit here, they would be qualified because they held might and controlled the truth.

But... what about Pedro?

He had no distinguished background, no powerful backing. Even the money used to feed his soldiers right now came from Federal aid.

If he sat in this position, how would he balance these forces, and how would he continue to fund a vast army to maintain his authority?

The Ravila family and the other ministers had large territories and wealth accumulated over perhaps ten or more generations.

Funding an army was an easy matter for them, and these armies were loyal to them, not to anyone else.

Pedro had many urgent problems to solve. He simply could not become the Great President. If he insisted on doing so, he would likely be overthrown again in three months, or perhaps half a year.

So, despite the profound temptation of the position and the fact that people believed he was qualified, he refrained from taking it.

Ross also lingered near the President's chair for a while. He even made a motion to sit down, but ultimately resisted.

The others also couldn't help but come over to pat and touch the chair, but no one suggested sitting in it or simply sat down themselves.

Finally, they took a photo together in the Presidential Office, all standing in front of the Presidential desk with confident and radiant smiles.

Next came the tasks of taking over, including Pedro, on behalf of the entire rebel army, making a nationwide and even pan-Yalan broadcast via radio and telegraph: their righteous cause had triumphed!

"...After arduous and prolonged fighting, we have finally overthrown the rule of the tyrant dictator Diego. We will now form a provisional government in Zhuolan and welcome people from all sectors of society who have ideas to gather here, so we can collectively discuss the structure of the new nation."

"The Rapa Republic is not the country of any single person or faction; it belongs to all the Rapa people. Therefore, I hope everyone will actively participate in the discussion to create a country and government that belongs to us, the people!"

"Over the next few days, we will conduct a public trial of Diego and members of the Ravila family..."

Lance quietly listened to the voice coming from the radio until the broadcast ended.

He turned off the radio and walked over to the window, looking toward the city center.

With the entry of Pedro's troops into the city, the defeated soldiers were practically gone, having all fled. The city's security had stabilized once again.

However, many troops were deployed around the concession, but both sides were currently exercising restraint, showing no signs of friction.

"How long until your people reach their designated locations?" Lance turned to look at the others in the office.

The Minister of Foreign Affairs had subtly become the chief spokesperson for the group. He thought for a moment. "They will reach the outskirts of Zhuolan within the next few days. They should completely surround Zhuolan in five days at most."

"Five days!" Lance repeated the timeframe. He lowered his head and thought for a moment. "Let them enter, but ensure they remain as discreet as possible."

"We still need to use them to eliminate Diego during this time."

"Although we could dispose of Diego ourselves, I still want them to carry out this most crucial step."

In truth, most, if not almost all, Rapa people had no direct feelings toward the President. Whether Diego was a tyrant or a dictator made no real difference to them.

On the contrary, some Rapa people might foolishly believe the President represented legitimacy, and that those who killed him were rebels, having nothing to do with liberation or freedom.

Furthermore, Lance did not want to bear the reputation of killing a nation's president. This reputation would not only be unfavorable but could also trigger a series of clashes between the Federation and the local people.

The best solution, therefore, was to use Pedro and his men to solve these problems.

The other ministers in the room nodded. They, too, were reluctant to personally eliminate Pedro. After all, they were recently on the same side. While doing it wasn't impossible, it would make them feel uneasy.

Having someone else take the burden was naturally the best outcome.

The Minister of Foreign Affairs asked, "So what do we do next...?"

Lance shook his head. "You don't need to do anything. Just be mindful of your own safety, and watch them perform this grand drama."

Later that evening, Senator Cleveland called Lance.

"I hear the anti-government forces have captured Zhuolan. Has Diego fallen into their hands?"

Pedro's "victory broadcast" had reached the Federation. Senator Cleveland was quite concerned, as Lance's plan was 80 to 90 percent complete, and he wanted to know if everything was still under control.

"Yes, they met with Diego this morning and are preparing to quickly launch his trial."

"It is highly likely they will execute Diego immediately, either at the trial site or shortly after."

"As long as Diego is alive, the Ravila family and some of their staunch loyalists have the potential to reignite conflict."

"We have now completely cut off all aid to them. They want stability as soon as possible more than anyone, so everything is still on schedule!"

The Senator was very satisfied with the progress of the entire plan. He brought up another idea. "If necessary, I can dispatch a few warships. They can be used to threaten or deter them."

Lance considered this. "Is it appropriate for me to contact Admiral Wills (the new commander of the Gold Port Naval District) directly?"

"Yes, you can contact him directly. I will call him shortly..."