I'm The King of Business & Technology in the Modern World-Chapter 111: The Reckoning

May 10, 2022.

The sun had barely risen over Metro Manila when Matthew Borja made his decision.

He wasn't going to stay silent.

The election was over. Regina Velasco had lost. The country had, once again, chosen a name over merit, a dynasty over competence, corruption over progress.

And Matthew was done pretending that the Philippines could change.

He had watched the results unfold in real time, had seen the tide shift unnaturally, had witnessed people celebrate as if they had won some great battle—when in reality, they had just handed the keys to the country's future to a legacy of thieves.

Now, he was going to tell them exactly what he thought.

Sentinel Systems HQ – Press Room.

A long table stretched across the stage, but Matthew was the only one sitting behind it. No advisors. No corporate executives. No legal team.

This wasn't about Sentinel Systems.

This was personal.

Cameras flashed, reporters whispered among themselves, and news stations had already begun their live broadcasts. Everyone was waiting to hear what Matthew Borja, the billionaire tech mogul, the most powerful private citizen in the country, had to say about the election.

Matthew adjusted the mic in front of him, exhaled, then spoke.

Matthew Borja's Post-Election Address

"Let me start by saying congratulations.

Congratulations, Philippines.

You have done it again."

His voice was calm. Controlled. But the venom in his words was undeniable.

"You have once again proven to the world that you are a nation incapable of learning from your own mistakes. You have once again chosen a corrupt, incompetent, unqualified politician to lead you. You have once again handed your future over to a man whose only qualification is his last name."

The reporters stiffened. The room grew tense.

"But I'm not surprised. I should have expected this. I should have expected that after decades of electing thieves, murderers, and criminals into office, you would do it again.

Because that's who you are.

You cry about poverty. You complain about unemployment. You whine about the rising prices of goods, about how your children have no future, about how you struggle to put food on the table.

And yet, when given the chance to elect a leader who could actually fix these problems, you chose the very people responsible for your suffering."

The silence in the room was suffocating.

"You call me elitist? You call me out of touch? You call me a billionaire who doesn't understand the struggles of the common Filipino? Fine. Let's talk about that.

Let's talk about the fact that I pay more taxes in a year than most of your beloved politicians have paid in their entire careers. Let's talk about the fact that my company employs tens of thousands of Filipinos, providing jobs that actually pay a livable wage. Let's talk about the fact that I built something from nothing while these politicians have spent decades doing nothing but steal from you.

And yet, I'm the villain?"

Matthew leaned forward, his gaze burning through the cameras.

"You want to know why you're poor? It's not because of me. It's not because of foreigners. It's not because of 'elitists.'

You are poor because you keep electing people who make sure you stay that way.

You are poor because you choose leaders who steal from you, who keep you desperate, who make sure you are too busy trying to survive to even think about demanding real change."

A few murmurs rippled through the press. Some reporters lowered their heads, unable to meet his gaze.

"You call yourselves fighters. Survivors. Resilient. No. You are complacent. You are obedient. You are cowards.

You are so afraid of real change that you would rather cling to the devil you know than take a chance on a leader who actually gives a damn about you.

And now? You will pay the price for it."

Matthew exhaled, his jaw tightening.

"Do you think Emilio Vargas is going to help you? Do you think he cares about your struggles? About your hunger? About your lack of education? About your joblessness?

No.

He cares about power. He cares about protecting his dynasty. He cares about keeping the same system alive that has kept you in chains for generations.

And you let him. You welcomed him with open arms. You begged him to rule over you."

His voice darkened, filled with a bitterness that bordered on contempt.

"You don't deserve Regina Velasco.

You don't deserve someone who actually wanted to change this country.

You deserve exactly what's coming to you.

Higher taxes. Economic decline. Stagnation. Corruption.

When your children remain jobless. When your wages remain low. When the prices of basic goods continue to rise. When foreign investors pull out. When your hospitals continue to decay. When your roads remain broken.

Don't cry. Don't protest. Don't beg for help.

You voted for this.

You chose this.

So own it."

The room was dead silent.

No one dared speak.

Matthew let the silence hang, then delivered his final words.

"I built my empire without the help of this government. Without handouts. Without political connections.

And I will continue to thrive, no matter who sits in Malacañang.

Because unlike you, I don't rely on politicians to fix my problems.

So good luck, Philippines.

Enjoy the next six years.

You earned it."

The Fallout

The press conference went viral within minutes.

News outlets called it "the most brutal condemnation of the Filipino electorate in modern history."

Social media exploded with reactions.

Some praised him:

"He's right. The truth hurts, but he's right."

"Finally, someone had the guts to say it."

"Filipinos need to hear this. We never learn."

Others attacked him:

"Who the hell does he think he is?"

"Rich guy blaming the poor. Typical."

"He should just leave the country if he hates us so much!"

Politicians scrambled to respond.

Senator Rodrigo Valera called the speech "an insult to democracy."

Vargas' team dismissed it as "elitist arrogance."

Even Regina Velasco, despite her loss, issued a statement saying:

"I understand Matthew's frustration, but we must continue fighting for change—not give up on our people."

Matthew didn't care.

As he sat back in his office, watching the chaos unfold, he felt nothing.

No regret. No guilt. No sadness.

Just cold acceptance.

They had chosen this.

Visit freewёbnoνel.com for the best novel reading experience.

Now, they would have to live with it.