President of Maliro walked back behind the desk and sat down again. He rested both hands lightly on the tabletop and looked at the Peng Joe people. "I'm right here!"
"Since I was little, my father told me that every one of us carried our own responsibilities on our shoulders."
"They belong to us. We cannot run from them, nor should we!"
"I know going to Peng Joe would let me avoid some terrible things, but that is precisely what I need to face. I want to stay with my people. I'm not going anywhere!"
"If the Federation wants to destroy this country and break the people's backs, then I hope they kill me first!"
"I will welcome death with open arms!"
The President of Maliro was no fool. He had received an excellent education in the Federation, and he knew exactly what would happen if he went to Peng Joe.
He would not die, but he would become a puppet for the rest of his life, a mere symbol.
He was afraid of death, too, but people needed to stand for something.
He thought of his father. When the Federation had raised the butcher's knife, had he hesitated as well?
Had he also been tempted—for example, by the chance to survive safely? Yet in the end, he had chosen to meet death gladly. It was not because he had been foolish; he had merely hoped to awaken the sleeping hearts of the people through his actions!
If the life of one president was not enough to weigh heavily enough upon people to wake them—
Then what about two?
His attitude was firm. He was not making excuses to demand greater benefits, and the Peng Joe diplomat could see that.
In fact, he also knew perfectly well that the President's