Chapter 977: The Eagle

All of his assets in the Federation have been frozen.

Not a single cent was left for Diego.

Of course, those real estate holdings and such—villas, for example—are still there, but they have also been frozen. They are currently in a state where they cannot be traded, and entry is not permitted.

In other words, even if he were to go to the Federation now, things would likely be extremely dire.

His final retreat has been completely blocked off by the Federation in one fell swoop.

This left him both furious and in great pain. He sat there, eyes widened as much as possible, head tilted slightly, staring straight ahead.

His gaze seemed to pierce through the void, seeing those people he hated, those who had caused all of this!

The President of the Federation, the senators in Congress, and that damn Lanse!

Fuck!

He slammed his fist onto the table with great force. The desktop let out a loud "Bang!", and his knuckles turned red!

He slowly placed the receiver back onto the phone base. He knew that no matter who he called now, it wouldn't solve the problem.

If anyone ever tells him again that Federation banks are the safest in the world, he will shove their head into their own asshole!

Fuck!

He cursed again, and immediately his breathing began to quicken. That bad feeling appeared once more—dizzy, with his focus drifting.

It was as if a demon were hiding in his brain, growing larger, wanting to destroy his head and crawl out from within!

After letting out a painful scream, the world before his eyes turned dim. He saw himself collapse to the floor, unconscious.

When he opened his eyes next, two hours had already passed.

After seeing President Diego wake up, the Ravila family's private doctor gave the butler a few instructions and took his leave.

Diego lay in bed, turning his head to look at the butler at the door.

After seeing the doctor off, the butler returned. "Master, you fainted again just now."

Diego patted his head in pain. "This damn... high blood."

The butler did not correct his incorrect description, merely repeating what the doctor had said upon leaving: "The doctor said it is best if you do not get angry easily right now. Anger is the primary trigger for your rising blood pressure."

"This issue must be taken seriously. If you continue to get angry and faint, it will have a great impact on your lifespan."

Diego was silent for a moment, then said helplessly, "You saw it."

"How could I not be angry in this situation?"

"Tens of millions of Federation Sol in wealth, my houses, stocks, bonds—they are all frozen now."

"They are forcing me, do you know that?"

Diego stared at the butler with wide eyes. Although he had tried his best to keep his eyes wide open, he still looked like he was squinting.

The butler bowed slightly and said nothing; he could neither answer nor resolve this problem.

Diego had no intention of making him answer. He looked back at the ceiling, as if speaking to himself: "The moment I mentioned leaving Lapa, they froze my accounts. Do you know what this means?"

The butler could only play dumb on such matters. "Master, I don't quite understand."

Diego chuckled twice. "It's not that you don't understand; it's that you understand but don't dare to say it."

"This means someone within the family has defected to the Federation. Otherwise, they wouldn't be so sensitive. I said it just yesterday, and today they blocked my retreat."

"They want me to stay in Lapa!"

He sighed as he spoke.

In the past, he didn't have much of a concept of "great powers." When chatting with heads of state from other countries, especially the President of the Republic of Jiede, the other party would always reveal an unease about the Federation's rapid development in their words.

The heads of the eleven Yalan nations would sometimes sit down to chat. The Republic of Jiede was developing very quickly, and it was inevitable that some heads of state hoped to learn something from them.

Diego had also visited the Republic of Jiede and chatted face-to-face with their President.

At the time, he couldn't feel the other party's sense of urgency; he even suspected the President of the Republic of Jiede had a persecution complex.

In Diego's view, there was nothing bad about the Federation's rapid development; on the contrary, he could enjoy more things.

All of the Federation's products suited his tastes, leaving him with no reason to hope for the Federation's development to slow down.

Movies, operas, various small appliances.

In Diego's manor, one could hardly see anything locally produced; it was all imported from the Federation.

Now, he understood.

He understood why the President of the Republic of Jiede would show such an uneasy expression when talking about the Federation: because the Federation was too strong.

It was like an unfair boxing match, with Diego and the Federation in the ring, red and blue sides.

Now Diego wanted to kneel and admit defeat; he couldn't afford to play anymore.

But the Federation was forcefully propping him up, not letting him kneel, not even letting him surrender, wanting him to finish the entire match.

They wanted to beat him to death, in the ring.

And what he wanted most right now was to live.

To live.

Everyone is living, and will continue to live, but some people might not be able to survive.

As for living freely, or anything else, it wasn't even visible in his life.

This feeling of not even being able to control one's own life felt truly terrible.

As the ruler of a country, he had never had such an experience or feeling. He seemed to understand why those at the bottom would risk their lives against him, against this country.

He waved his hand, and the butler bowed slightly before leaving.

After lying there thinking for a while, Diego called Lanse.

"This is Lanse."

After hearing Lanse's familiar yet annoying voice from the receiver, Diego's eyebrows instinctively shot up.

But they quickly relaxed again.

"I want to talk to you, meet and talk, just you and me."

Lanse considered it for a while but did not agree immediately. "I... I might not have time these next few days."

Diego didn't listen to his lies. "Lanse, I know, you have time."

"The Federation called me just now and said my accounts were frozen. I have an instinctive feeling that this matter might have a direct connection to you."

Lanse laughed. "That is slander, Mr. President."

"Although you are communicating with me, you cannot slander me because of it."

He paused. "What do you want to say to me?"

After a brief silence, President Diego said, "Let's talk about the future."

"If you are worried, you can pick a location yourself, and I will come to keep the appointment. This is my greatest sincerity!"

This was indeed a very sincere approach. After all, he was the president of a country, and his safety was linked to the country's future development and trajectory.

That he could take the initiative to go to a place appointed by Lanse meant he was handing his safety over to Lanse and trusting him completely.

Lanse considered it for a while. "How about this, let's go to the golf course."

There was a golf course in the suburbs of Zhuolan, covering a large area with twenty-two fairways and three building complexes.

Such a standard was considered quite high, even in the Federation.

The total number of people in all of Lapa who could play golf might not even reach a thousand, but just so these thousand people had a good place to play golf without needing to take a ship to the Federation, they had built such a massive golf course in the tropical region.

Sometimes, the extravagance of the ruling class is something those at the bottom cannot even imagine.

This was still something those at the bottom could see—they could only see the gate of the golf course, not what was inside.

Because it was not open to the public, nor were the poor allowed to enter.

Diego did not hesitate and agreed directly.

Lanse arranged for people to clear the golf course first, and then he waited there for Diego's arrival.

It had to be said, the fairways here were maintained very well. He heard from the course manager beside him that they spent over 400,000 Federation Sol on golf course maintenance every year.

Lanse had previously looked at some data regarding Lapa; the funds they used to help the poor were only about 100,000 Federation Sol.

This was very Lapa, and very bureaucratic. Not long after, Diego arrived, leaning on a walking stick.

Although he was leaning on the stick, his walk was still lopsided. Just the short distance made him covered in sweat, especially on his forehead.

By the time he walked up close, Lanse had just swung a club. This was a par-five fairway with a very broad view.

The crisp sound of the club hitting the golf ball was very pleasant. Regardless of whether the shot was good or not, Diego took the initiative to say, "Good shot!"

He walked over, swaying, while wiping sweat with a handkerchief.

Lanse handed the club to the manager, who trotted toward where the ball landed. Only Lanse and his people remained, along with President Diego, his butler, and two guards.

Diego raised his hand in a gesture, and the two bodyguards behind him quickly left his side, standing a bit further away, leaving space for him and Lanse to talk.

Lanse nodded as well, and his two bodyguards also moved away, but Ma Duoer remained by his side.

As the two walked toward where the ball landed, Diego said, "They called me today and said all my accounts and assets were frozen."

Lanse was not surprised, because this was what he had asked Tang Mu to do, but he wouldn't show it, let alone admit it. "What terrible news!"

He even "lamented" it, which made Diego so angry he couldn't help but laugh. "You really are a despicable person!"

Lanse tucked his chin in slightly. "This is actually a compliment, a compliment to success, Mr. President."

Listening to Lanse's shameless statement, Diego suddenly felt he was still too "naive."

He shook his head and continued, "Actually, you—you all should know that I indeed had the idea of giving up this place and leaving. Isn't this what you wanted?"

There was some confusion on his face. Wasn't the Federation tossing and turning just to get Lapa?

Now that he was leaving, why wouldn't they let him go?

Seeing the confusion in Diego's eyes, Lanse didn't mind explaining it for him.

"First of all, Mr. President, you must understand one thing."

"The federal government is the federal government, and I am me. We are not one and the same, and there is no direct connection."

"The federal government has never interfered in the internal affairs of other countries, nor would it do so. Therefore, your accusation is wrong and unfounded."

Diego was silent. He realized more clearly that it wasn't just Lanse who was shameless, but the federal government as well.

And the President of the Federation, and everyone in the Federation's upper class—they were all shameless, despicable, and vile people!

Using "son of a bitch" to describe them was an insult to the word bitch!

The two were still walking forward. Lanse gave Diego time to understand these words, then continued, "Not letting you leave is because your work is not yet finished."

"Mr. President, look, the civil war has not been resolved, the people have not been redeemed, and the uprising has not succeeded."

"As the biggest villain in the eyes of most of Lapa's people, you, Diego Ravila, represent chaos and evil. How could you just leave so unexpectedly?"

Diego walked with great difficulty on the lawn, constantly wiping sweat. It was too hot.

In the tropics, this damn August was like an oven, very unfriendly to a fat man. He was already soaked through.

He took a bottle of iced juice from the butler and took a big gulp, which finally made him feel a bit more comfortable.

"What exactly do you want me to do to be satisfied?"

Lanse turned his head to look at him, smiling but not smiling. "Just as I said above, your work is not yet finished."

"Civil war."

Diego didn't quite understand. "Can you speak more clearly? What do I need to do to satisfy you all?"

Lanse curled his lips. "We actually don't want you to do anything special, just hope you continue to be yourself."

"A dictatorial tyrant. You must strive and fight with the goal of eliminating all rebel armies. Understand?"

Diego couldn't help but let out a low growl. "But you are always supporting those anti-government armed forces. It is impossible for me to eliminate them!"

Lanse shook his head in denial. "No, you can."

"A person only has one life. Once they die, they won't live again."

"When these people who clearly stand up against you are all dead, there won't be any new rebel armies appearing. By that day, your work will be finished."

As they spoke, they had arrived at the spot where the golf ball landed. Lanse took the golf club from the manager, looked at the golf ball on the ground, and said, "Some weeds."

Actually, there were only two weeds growing out of the lawn, just blocking the path of the golf ball.

If not handled, it might affect the direction and path of the golf ball. From a sufficient distance, even a slight deviation would eventually produce a relatively large deviation.

The course manager immediately knelt on the ground, butt in the air, carefully pulling out the grass, then poked the lawn with a sparse rake-like tool, and then patted it firm with his hand.

Only then did he place the golf ball back where it was supposed to be.

Diego watched the course manager crawl up from the ground with a fawning smile, looking at the grass stains left on the pant legs and elbows of his expensive suit. He didn't know what expression to show.

"Mr. Lanse, it's ready now."

Lanse nodded, then stood by the golf ball, swung twice, and then pulled hard. With a "Bang!", the golf ball flew out again.

Lanse threw the golf club to the manager, who immediately took off running toward where the ball landed.

Only then did Lanse turn to look at Diego. "Look, he knows to chase after the ball. Why don't you?"

"Maybe you didn't know where the ball was before, but now?"

"Do you know?"

Diego greeted Lanse's ancestors for eighteen generations in his heart. He nodded with a cold face. "I think I understand."

He knew what Lanse meant, but not entirely.

Lanse raised his hand again, signaling for them all to move further away.

He and Diego walked side by side, Diego half a step behind him, toward the course manager who was waving his arms in the distance.

"Actually, I don't really think you truly understand."

"So I will explain it more thoroughly to you now."

"If you leave, then these rebel armies will soon decide a winner, which is very unfavorable for us."

Lanse pursed his lips. "You know, people who have gained what they wanted through war—once they stand up, it's very hard for them to kneel down again."

"What we want is a stable Lapa that is convenient for us to rule, not... a Lapa where many people are fighting against us."

"So you have to consume them, using the government army."

"Understand?"

"Actually, you don't need to do anything special right now. Just continue to maintain the policies left behind by Fernandez."

"We will balance the rest ourselves."

"If you can't hold on, we will give you some support, provided it hasn't reached the level we approve of."

"If they are being beaten by you to the point where they can't hold on, then we will give them some support."

"So just as I said, actually you don't need to do anything."

Diego looked at Lanse, the anger in his eyes completely gone. He just looked at him. "Don't you consider how others view what you are doing?"

Even though he was a dictator, a tyrant, he still felt the Federation was going too far.

Lanse turned his head to look at him. "Who cares?"

"And even if someone cares, do they have evidence?"

"Mr. President, reckless accusations without evidence also come with a price."

"And this price is something ordinary people cannot bear."

Seeing they were getting closer and closer to the green, Diego gritted his teeth and asked the question he most wanted to know: "How do you plan to deal with me?"

Lanse shook his head and said, "You will have the curtain call a tyrant deserves!"

After saying this, he walked smiling toward the course manager, took the putter from his hand, aimed at the hole, and gave it a light push.

The golf ball rolled for a while and entered the hole.

(End of chapter) ===== CHAPTER 978 =====