Chapter 911: Aid and the Failure of the First Popular Movement

Inside the Presidential Palace, Diego stood by the window looking at the groups of soldiers on the square. His expression hadn't improved much just because the riot had stopped.

Any dictator is, in essence, a creature who loves face.

Because they possess relatively absolute power, no one dares to offend them.

Their threshold for being offended becomes very, very low.

It's like a person who doesn't like being joked with. Maybe you just tell a joke, but to him, it's enough to make him angry to the point of losing his mind!

Diego didn't like being joked with either, especially in this face-slapping way.

What would people think?

What would the other member states of the Yalan League think?

There was no need to doubt. The entire Yalan League knew about it by now, because the president of the Jede Republic had just made a special call to ask him what on earth had happened, and whether he needed his help.

This made his face burn red hot!

He was already no match for the Jede Republic, in any aspect, but at least he could still maintain his dignity as a ruler.

Now, he couldn't even maintain his dignity as a ruler. Someone had actually attempted a riot, in Zhuolan, making a mess of his capital.

The thought of those people laughing at him now made his head ache.

He held his temple and took a painkiller.

He didn't know that his headache was because of high blood pressure.

His size gave him severe diabetes and high blood pressure. These conditions were already at a critical point. With just a little stimulation, they might erupt completely.

"Kill!"

"Kill them hard!"

"Make this bunch of pariahs regret what they've done!"

He turned to look at everyone here, the voice squeezing through his teeth carried a chill like a winter rain.

The Minister of Defense asked in a low voice, "It's said that tens of thousands have poured into the city. Kill them all?"

Diego was grinding his teeth in hatred. "Kill them all!"

This was clearly not the right choice. To wantonly kill the rioters at this time might trigger more unpredictable consequences.

"I hear there are more than a hundred thousand refugees outside the city, and even more are converging here."

"We need to be cautious. Killing is simple. The soldiers can solve it just by opening fire. But the series of impacts brought by killing will be very difficult to control."

"Those refugees outside the city will be completely plunged into despair."

The Minister of Defense was an old man in his sixties, his hair somewhat gray, but he was very energetic.

With sufficient food, chicken, fish, meat, and eggs to eat, and enjoying the best medical services in the country, he was of course very energetic.

Wealth and power determine everything, including health and mental state.

His build formed a sharp contrast with Diego. Diego's expression as he looked at him was not very happy either, because his ideas had been blocked.

Perhaps sensing Diego's unkind gaze, the Minister of Defense said with a smile, "Unless you want to force those people outside to go to extremes."

He placed one hand on the desk in front of him, playing with the pen in his hand, and then leaned back. This was a defensive posture.

"Rapa has a population of twelve million. Zhuolan has less than one million."

"Maybe they have concealed some of the population, and there are always some people who come here to try their luck or something. Even if there are one million, more than one million people here."

"What we have to face is the remaining ten million plus population!"

"If these people also start to make trouble, Diego, do you think we can kill them all?"

This question made many ministers nod one after another. This sentence had hit the key point.

Killing is easy, but the consequences of killing are not so easy to solve.

It couldn't be seen if Diego's small, dark face had turned red with anger, but he was definitely angry now.

He walked back and forth a few steps. "Then what do you say we should do?"

"Let them go?"

The Minister of Defense knew that Diego had made a concession. He was not a stubborn person either, and didn't insist that Diego must listen to his ideas.

They had worked with Diego for so many years and had long since figured out this little dark fatty's personality and temper.

As long as you didn't have to go against him, with their status, position, and ability, they could still persuade Diego.

"We definitely have to kill a part of them. They have created so many tragedies and have made a mess of the city."

"But we can only kill a batch of the leaders, kill those who are found with grain or wealth on them."

"We have a reason to execute them. They have wealth on them that doesn't belong to them."

"But for those who don't have much wealth or food on them, we shouldn't make a move on them."

"And this part of the crowd is mainly composed of the elderly, women, and children."

"To some extent, they are also the hope of others."

"To keep them is much better than to kill them!"

"If you have a wife and children to support, and also the elderly to take care of, you won't do something recklessly."

"What we are discussing now is how to make this country stable, not to make it worse!"

Diego looked at him for a while, then returned to the conference table and sat down. He said, a little sullenly, "Then what do you say we should do?"

The ministers looked at each other, and a smile appeared on their faces.

For many people, Diego was a complete bastard of a president, irascible, and bad-tempered, but for them, he was not actually too bad of a guy.

"We first need to publicly execute the leaders I just mentioned..."

While they were in a meeting, the president of the Jede Republic was also chatting with two of Jede's ministers.

The Minister of Agriculture, and the Minister of Foreign Affairs.

The great president of the Jede Republic was a "man in his prime" in his fifties.

To say so might be a bit of an exaggeration. For this world, let alone fifty, people over forty were all considered old.

However, in the political world, one's fifties were precisely one's prime.

Energy, experience, thinking ability, all aspects were at their peak. It was the most prosperous time.

The great president of the Jede Republic had studied abroad in the Federation. He had received the Federation's education, and had also lived there for a period of time.

It was not until his second job had been fired, that is, at the age of twenty-six, that he had returned to the Jede Republic to inherit his family business.

In the blink of an eye, so many years had passed. The education and everything he had received in the Federation had all become the foundation for the Jede Republic to begin to become strong.

In fact, to a certain extent, he was not at all like a traditional ruler of Yalan.

Some said that he was digging his own foundation, for example, by letting more commoners enter government departments, or by his promotion of capital's expansion and growth.

The Jede Republic becoming the most powerful country in Yalan was the iron-clad proof that he was not a reckless president.

Including the promotion of the establishment of the Yalan League, it was also his decision.

"...Now there are more than a hundred thousand people staying outside the city of Zhuolan. As for what Diego is going to do next, no one knows."

The Minister of Foreign Affairs briefly introduced what had happened to the Minister of Agriculture. The Minister of Agriculture had only heard some of it and was not aware of many of the details.

At this time, when he heard these details, there was also a look of shock on his face, and also some... annoyance.

"Diego is a fool!" he said, emphasizing his tone. "There wasn't enough grain in the first place. Why did he have to sell it to the federal people?"

"Just because the federal people offered some more money?"

"This stupid pig!"

Under the influence of the great president, people were well aware that the Federation was not a friendly neighbor, so the high-level of the entire Jede Republic was very resistant to having too much contact with the federal people.

But now the Federation was too powerful. It wouldn't work if they didn't have contact, so they could only, as much as possible, maneuver.

The federal government, and some of the private enterprises, had all sent them orders, wanting to buy their grain.

However, the great president had not sold a single grain of wheat. On the contrary, he had imported some grain.

This year, not only would the Jede Republic not be short of grain, but on the contrary, there would be some surplus.

Rapa was a typical negative example, but they did not find it strange. With the greed and stupidity of Diego and those ruling groups, they might not not make such a decision.

In fact, it wasn't just Rapa that was selling grain. There were also other countries that were selling. After all, the price the Federation was giving was too high!

After the Minister of Agriculture had cursed for a while, the president finally asked, "How much grain can we take out now?"

"Without affecting our own grain consumption."

The Minister of Agriculture seemed to have realized something. He quickly calculated, "About 5 million tons of wheat and wheat flour."

After the president had heard this, he nodded. "If we take out 500,000 tons, it shouldn't have any impact on the country, right?"

The Minister of Agriculture shook his head. "We don't have this pressure," he said, and after a pause of two seconds, he couldn't help but ask, "Do we have to support them?"

"Maybe they will turn around and sell it after they get the grain!"

The great president smiled and waved his hand. "Don't worry. This is not a free gift to him, but is being sold to him."

"The Yalan League has just been established. If it falls into chaos now, it's not a good thing for us."

"There is clearly the shadow of the federal people behind this. I'm not sure what the federal people really want to do, what they are plotting in Rapa."

"But I know one thing!"

"As long as it's what the federal people want to do, if we don't let them do it, it's a good thing for us."

"Don't let them succeed!"

The great president's tone was very firm. It was clear that he would not allow others to change his plan. Then he looked at the Minister of Foreign Affairs. "You go and get in touch with Diego about this. I really don't want to deal with this fool."

"I'm afraid I'll be stupid-fied by him!"

As he spoke, he couldn't help but laugh, and the two ministers also laughed.

As he laughed, he suppressed his laughter. "Rapa is in a lot of trouble now, but for us, it might also be an opportunity."

"Instead of letting Diego give those important resources to the Federation, and send the talents to the Federation, it's better to have them hand them over to us!"

The Minister of Foreign Affairs shook his head. "He won't agree easily."

The great president didn't care at all. "Then give them a price they can't refuse!"

"This batch of grain, even a part of it, you see how to negotiate, and if there are any things and talents that we need."

"If there are, while the grain is being sent over, bring these things back."

The Minister of Foreign Affairs naturally would not object, nor did he have any opinion. He knew that this decision was correct.

However, he still had to remind his great president. "If you do this, it might make the federal people unhappy."

The president pursed his lips and spread his hands. "Who cares?"

"Only when we become stronger will they have the ability to resist the risks."

Soon the discussion of the three had ended. The two ministers had left, but the great president did not relax much because of this.

He knew very well that the federal people had already made a move. Time had become more important, and also more urgent, for him!

These damn federal people!

The next morning, in the city square of Zhuolan, a large batch of rioters had been brought here to be publicly executed.

Early in the morning, someone had been riding a bicycle in the city to make an announcement, and there were also some loudspeakers.

Public execution has always been an important means for the ruling class to deter the lower class. When people see with their own eyes that their own kind, because they have done something wrong, are being killed in front of them, they will have a kind of fear.

A fear of doing things that are not allowed, a fear of the ruling class.

This propaganda had played a great role. Early in the morning, it had attracted many citizens to come and watch.

The Rapa's Minister of Justice, through a loudspeaker, had read out the crimes of these people. The citizens who had come to watch the public execution had no sympathy for them.

Because in the chaos of yesterday for a few hours, the ones who were most seriously injured were these civilians and the middle class.

The rich, the privileged class, the ruling class, were not affected at all.

This was a failed "protest," because it had not played the role it should have.

In the crowd, Pedro looked at all this happening and sighed silently.

It was originally a good thing. With a little guidance, perhaps it could have brought some changes to this country.

But these greedy fools, who were dominated by their desires, had, on the contrary, made a mess of a great opening!

With the Minister of Justice finishing reading the crimes of these people, the execution officially began.

Diego and his ministers had made a certain degree of compromise on this matter. He had agreed to kill fewer people, but had requested that they not be shot or hanged. That would be too cheap for these people.

So today's execution was to adopt a more primitive method—beheading!

One by one, the rioters were sent to the guillotine, and the rolling heads rolled all over the ground.

Every time the blade of the guillotine came down, a neat shout would sound from the square, and the smell of blood rushed into the sky.

In the sky, crows and Yalan giant-winged birds (a type of vulture) were circling. The smell of blood had attracted them from the surroundings.

On the ground, some of the citizens who had fallen into a mass frenzy were venting their emotions. The executioners who were standing on the execution platform and waving the whips in their hands, and the birds in the sky that represented bad luck, had formed a grotesque but harmonious picture!

There were many reporters at the scene. They were faithfully recording everything that was happening here, and then would send it to the Federation, to let the federal people realize the barbarity of the people here!