As the Secretary of Defense, Pat was used to being feared.
Few dared raise their voice to him—except maybe a few opposition party figures who had nothing left to lose.
But for a street racer like Leon to openly insult him?
That was unthinkable.
Pat's face darkened with fury.
"You dare insult the Secretary of Defense? Are you out of your mind!?"
Leon sneered, eyes sharp with contempt.
"Idiot. You're blocking my race. I'd curse the President himself if he stood in my way."
Freedom of speech had always been a double-edged sword in the Eagle Empire.
The people could insult their leaders, mock their policies, even print entire columns tearing them apart—
and the President could only grind his teeth in silence.
That was the world Leon lived in: unfiltered, reckless, and brutally honest.
And to Pat, it was unbearable.
Each word from Leon stabbed like a blade.
His temper boiled over.
"You arrogant little bastard! Believe it or not, I could have your whole damn family disappeared!"
His neck turned red, veins bulging, fury distorting his face.
Leon didn't even flinch.
He raised a middle finger.
"Try me, tough guy."
He slammed the accelerator twice—
the Diomas Nilo roared like a living beast.
The sound alone was thunderous, shaking the ground, echoing through the forest like an approaching storm.
Pat stumbled back several steps, heart hammering, the color draining from his face.
His aides caught him before he fell, but he looked pale and humiliated.
Leon tilted his head, smirking.
"Pathetic. And this is the man running your country's defense?"
His eyes were full of scorn.
"Guess the President's running out of competent people."
Pat's complexion shifted from red to white in seconds—like a man performing a live mask change.
He was the nation's highest-ranking military official, accustomed to obedience and flattery.
No one had ever spoken to him like that.
It burned.
"You… you dare insult me?!" he stammered. "Arrest him! Seize the car!"
The command echoed—
and from the dark treeline, dozens of soldiers emerged in black tactical gear.
Assault rifles up. Red laser dots filled the night air like a swarm of fireflies.
So that was the plan—an ambush, waiting for him to stop.
Leon's expression hardened.
"So that's how it is."
He could take on ten times that number. The Diomas' defense systems made small arms nearly useless.
Then came a deeper rumble overhead.
"Whup-whup-whup-whup—"
A massive CH-53K Super Stallion helicopter rose above the forest, its rotors chopping the air.
Eighty-eight thousand pounds of military engineering—America's heaviest lifter.
It could haul tanks, artillery, or entire vehicles.
From its belly descended a magnetic grabber, glowing faintly blue.
An electromagnetic field—capable of ripping any steel object off the ground.
Leon's jaw clenched.
"An electromagnetic trap… shameless."
He knew that if the Nilo got caught, it would be like hanging a tiger by the tail. No escape.
"Those bastards don't even care if they destroy my car," he growled.
He slammed the throttle.
The tires screeched, the Diomas roared—
and in an instant, the hypercar shot forward like lightning.
Straight toward Pat.
Pat froze.
His instincts screamed run.
"No! No, no, no!"
He dove aside just as the car flashed past.
The air pressure alone nearly tore his coat off.
Inside the Nilo, Leon's voice was cold.
"Activate laser cutters. Target: helicopter."
Twin beams of searing red light erupted from the car's front array, slicing upward in an instant.
They carved straight through the Super Stallion's rotors, cutting all the way to its frame.
The earth itself scorched and split.
Soldiers stumbled back, faces pale as smoke rose from the burning soil.
The helicopter shuddered.
Then—
BOOM!
It tore apart midair, the front section spinning uncontrollably before plowing into the forest.
Trees shattered like matchsticks; explosions echoed across the valley.
The helicopter tail followed, smashing through everything in its path—
crushing the hidden sniper teams that had been lying in wait.
The ground erupted into chaos—
mud, fire, broken branches, and silence.
When the debris settled, an entire kilometer of forest lay flattened.
Pat collapsed to the ground, trembling, his glasses cracked.
The reflection of the burning wreck danced in his eyes.
He couldn't breathe.
This wasn't rebellion.
It was war.
Leon sat in the driver's seat, face calm but voice like steel.
"You wanted a meeting," he muttered. "Now you've got my answer."
Pat's lips quivered as he watched the flames devour his men and the shattered remains of the helicopter.
The reality hit him all at once:
If Leon ever turned his wrath toward the White House, nothing could stop him.
His heart sank into his chest like a stone.
It's over.
~~----------------------
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