Abar scoffed coldly and replied, "The Congress is dissatisfied with your policies in recent years. I'm here to ask you to step down and make way for someone better."
"Is the Congress dissatisfied with me, or are you dissatisfied with me?" asked Brandon.
Abar smirked coldly and said, "Please save your speech for the court."
Abar disrespected Brandon and told him his goal bluntly.
"Abar, you will be criticized by everyone if you do this, and you will not become the president. If anything happens, we can sit down and talk this out. If you have any conditions, you can just raise them as you please."
Brandon tried to ease the trouble by extending an olive branch.
Abar suddenly laughed loudly. He asked, "Do you think I'll fall for it like a child?"
Abar looked straight at Brandon sternly.
It was clear that Abar was well aware of the false promises Brandon was making.
"You'll be sent to court. I hope you think this through!" yelled Brandon sternly.
Vlad asked at that moment, "Why are you wasting time talking to him? Detain him already. Just kill him if he dares to resist."
Vlad did not care to be polite, nor did he respect anyone there.
Abar signaled the Faste elites with a wave, and they walked toward Brandon.
The others had spread towards all the exits of the banquet hall, and they were at gunpoint with Brandon's security team.
The attendees of the festival looked frightened, and they were sweating bullets.
It was too terrifying for them. They felt like any slip up would cause an intense gunfight. No one would care for their lives by then.
That was the first time they realized the status they were so proud of meant nothing more than a joke to those in power.
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