"I can understand your thinking. In fact, you're the most professional foreigner I've ever met. The privileged class of this country has already abandoned the capital and left, yet you're still thinking about leading us into battle."
"But there's no need to fight anymore. You should hurry and run for your life, too. If you're too late and get surrounded by the rebels, you won't be able to get out either. Those rebels won't care whether you're part of the Bolivian government."
"So please clear the way, sir. We just want to go home, take our families, and leave. We'll get as far away as we can."
Second Lieutenant Abbas's words earned the agreement and support of the other soldiers.
"Exactly. The president and the elite have all run away. What's the point of staying behind and fighting?"
"This country is completely finished. There's no hope."
"I hope the wealthy district can hold out a little longer and buy us more time to escape."
"Don't worry. There are so many good things in the wealthy district that once those rebels go in, they'll be dazzled. They won't even know what to loot first."
"Ah, when you get right down to it, the things in the wealthy district should have belonged to us in the first place—to the Bolivian people. They were plundered from us by the rich, and now they've fallen into the rebels' hands. Just thinking about it makes me feel so bitter."
"What good is being bitter? Who told us to be at the bottom? The lower classes are always oppressed and exploited by the upper classes. It's the same in every country. New America is so powerful, but isn't it still a society where people prey on one another? The poor are the same everywhere."
Everyone wore