There was a saying that when a nation was on the verge of collapse, monsters would appear. What these so-called "monsters" really looked like was hard to say, but at the very least, the situation now was definitely not normal.
For the career politicians gathered here, the most terrifying thing was probably watching a scene they had known so well suddenly become unrecognizable.
How had our country come to this? What would become of it? If the conference room hadn't been so small, with only a dozen or so people present, someone would surely have started sobbing.
And so, in the tense atmosphere, the defense commissioner—who had been left speechless by the scolding—felt even greater pressure. It was as if everyone's silence signified their agreement with the vice president's words.
The elderly head of the nation's military and political affairs had turned even paler. Cold sweat beaded across his wrinkled forehead. He pointed a trembling finger at Vice President Yero, yet couldn't utter a word.
In the end, it was the president who broke the silence with a fair-minded remark delivered in a matter-of-fact tone. "Vice President, a man may be killed, but he must not be humiliated."
He was probably trying to break up the argument. But the elderly Maxwell seemed to have taken a final, fatal blow. His expression changed several times in an instant. He pressed a hand to his chest, then toppled straight backward.
Chaos erupted at once. Even the vice president, the culprit behind it all, stood frozen, at a loss.
He really had been crushed by the pressure of reality and had started giving up. That was why he had gone so far in mocking the old commissioner. But he had never wanted to see this happen.
If he had really angered old Mr.