Starting from South America, speeding through the world

Chapter 30 Assassination
That night.

The Castro Alves Theatre was brightly lit.

A huge banner hangs directly above the glass wall.

The reception hall was bustling with people.

Volunteers wearing dark blue campaign shirts busily distributed leaflets in the crowd, their demeanor composed and their smiles confident.

Miguel stood on the side of the backstage area, looking down and adjusting his cuffs.

There were less than fifteen minutes left before the speech was scheduled to begin.

The cold pistol pressed tightly against my skin.

He felt a long-lost peace.

soon.

The lights in the audience dimmed, and the noisy conversations gradually subsided.

Several spotlights then shone, and the host's impassioned opening remarks echoed throughout the venue.

"Ladies and gentlemen, let us welcome today's protagonist—Rodriguez Hoffman!"

In an instant, thunderous applause erupted, and the entire theater burst into enthusiastic cheers.

People stood up, waving flags and excitedly shouting his name.

The backstage door opened, and Miguel looked up as the man walked onto the stage.

Rodriguez wore a dark blue suit, his tie was straight, and he had a calm smile on his face.

He rested one hand on the podium and gestured to the audience with the other, waiting for the celebration to subside.

"Tonight, standing here looking at you, I feel incredibly proud."

"Whether you're a self-made entrepreneur, a hardworking middle-class family, or a hopeful young person, we've gathered here because of the same belief—"

"Change must happen!"

He paused for a moment, his expression becoming even more solemn.

"The past few years have not been easy for many people."

"Economic recession, soaring prices, rising unemployment."

"And what about the ruling party? Instead of solving the problems, they try every means to cover up the reality."

"They said they wanted to make the country more equitable."

"But their fairness lies in making your sweat compensate for the government's incompetence, and in using your savings to support an inefficient and greedy system!"

Miguel walked out from backstage.

Rodriguez's voice became clearer.

"They tell you that if you believe hard work should be rewarded, then you are arrogant."

"They tell you that if you complain about the heavy tax burden, then you are selfish."

“They tell you that if you ask for a safer community, then you are intolerant.”

Miguel walked calmly along the staff passageway.

They went unnoticed along the way.

It seemed as if there was a harmless shadow beneath the dark blue shirt.

"The Labour Party promised everything, but what has it delivered?"

"Higher crime rates, more corrupt bureaucrats, fewer job opportunities, and a higher cost of living!"

"But when reality is presented to you, they will tell you that this is nothing but a necessary evil, an unavoidable chaos."

"Look at our city, look at our streets!"

"Who is creating wealth? It's you!"

"And who is silently bearing the brunt of their failures? It's you again!"

"And when you question them, they try to silence you."

“They mocked, slandered, and even feared your voices.”

"why?"

"Because they know who the true masters of this country are!"

Miguel finally saw Rodriguez.

Strangely, his heart rate did not increase.

I gently gripped the gun handle at my waist; the polymer fabric, through which the gun was held, fit snugly against my palm.

True fairness is not about forcing equality, but about giving everyone the opportunity to change their destiny through hard work.

“2 Thessalonians 3:10 clearly states that if anyone is not willing to work, he should not eat.”

Rodriguez's eyes burned with passion, his body leaned forward involuntarily, and his face flushed with excitement.

"Therefore, we must bring back faith, return to responsibility, and bring back the free market, the rule of law, and justice!"

“The land God gave us, we must bring it back to life, we must make those who truly—” *Bang!*

Gunfire rang out.

A moment later, Rodriguez suddenly sensed that something was wrong.

Looking down, I noticed a wound on my side.

Blood soaked through his shirt and trickled down his suit buttons.

The crowd was still cheering, the applause and slogans drowning out everything else, so much so that no one noticed the sudden change.

Miguel strode onto the stage.

"boom!"

A second shot rang out.

This time, Rodriguez's body suddenly leaned backward.

A blood-red flower slowly bloomed on her chest.

The air solidified instantly.

The celebrations in the audience came to an abrupt end.

Immediately afterwards, loud screams erupted from the crowd, and people scattered and fled.

A raging fire burned within Miguel, searing his internal organs and consuming the last vestiges of his reason.

All the anger, pain, and hatred of the past five years burst forth from his flesh and blood, urging him to say something quickly.

Miguel approached Rodriguez, his eyes bloodshot and his body trembling: "For my deceased family."

He repeated it softly, over and over, but as if that wasn't enough, he suddenly looked up and roared at the audience:
"This beast is your hero?!"

"He was an executioner, a murderer! — And you were too! And you were too!"

"He built your future with his blood-stained hands! Look at his current state!! Look at him!!"

The roar was like thunder, tearing apart the magnificent golden dome.

Zhou Yi stared at the chaos beneath his feet, sighed heavily, and silently told himself to put away his weapon.

That's fucking unlucky.

Such a simple plan, yet there's still room for error.

At this point, the flustered security personnel finally managed to subdue the young gunman.

Miguel was pinned to the ground, his arms twisted behind his back.

His fingertips were still stained with his enemy's blood, and his pistol lay not far away.

The backstage area was mostly empty, as the staff were all drawn to Rodriguez's body and crowded around it.

Seeing that the time was right, Zhou Yi got up and left the lighting control mezzanine, walking out along the wall.

However, just as he was about to push open the door to the logistics passage, a man's voice sounded behind him.

"Sir! Sir! Please wait a moment!"

Zhou Yi paused in his grip on the doorknob.

Footsteps approached from afar.

Turning around, he saw a man in a theater uniform jogging towards him, his brows furrowed and his tone urgent.

"Sir, please show your work ID to verify your identity."

Zhou Yi's gaze swept across the end of the corridor, confirming that the chaos continued and no one had noticed what was happening here.

"Sir? Sir? Please cooperate with my inspection; this is for safety reasons."

The man continued to press, his attitude gradually hardening, and a scrutinizing glint appeared in his eyes.

Zhou Yi spoke, his tone tinged with helplessness.

Why do you people always force me to do dishonorable things?

The man was taken aback, not understanding why he would suddenly say such a thing.

“Us? Sir—”

The next second, Zhou Yi was already close.

With her left arm around the man's chin and her right hand gripping the back of his neck, she twisted him sharply to the side the instant he lost his balance.

"Crack!"

The sound of joints dislocating rang out.

The man's pupils dilated, a barely audible gasp escaped his throat, and his whole body went limp.

Zhou Yi sighed again, supporting the body as it slid quietly to the floor.

He then straightened his cuffs, left the passageway, and blended into the crowd evacuating in a panic.

(End of this chapter)