I'm The King of Business & Technology in the Modern World

Matthew Borja stepped out of the black SUV as it pulled up to the private entrance of Malacañang Palace. The air was thick with tension, and he could already feel the weight of the confrontation ahead. He had been summoned for a closed-door meeting with President-elect Emilio Vargas, a man who had spent weeks trying to crush him only to be forced into retreat. Now, they were face to face.

Angel and Lucas had insisted on coming with him, but Matthew refused. This was something he had to handle alone. He wasn't there to negotiate. He was there to make a point.

The guards led him through the hallway, past marble floors and ornate chandeliers, symbols of power that meant nothing to him. Finally, he was ushered into a private office where Vargas sat behind a polished mahogany desk, a fake smile plastered on his face.

"Matthew," Vargas greeted, gesturing to the seat across from him. "I appreciate you coming."

Matthew didn't sit. He didn't have the patience for pleasantries. "Cut the act, Vargas. We both know why I'm here."

The smile wavered for a split second before Vargas leaned back in his chair. "Alright, then. Let's get to it."

Matthew crossed his arms. "You tried to destroy me. You weaponized government agencies, froze assets, and manipulated the media to turn the people against me. And for what? Because I spoke the truth?"

Vargas sighed, rubbing his temples. "Matthew, it was never personal."

Matthew let out a dry laugh. "Bullshit. You wanted to make an example out of me, to remind every business leader in this country that they answer to you. But you underestimated me."

Vargas stayed silent, his jaw tightening.

"You lost," Matthew continued. "And you were forced to back down because the economy was crumbling. Not because you suddenly realized what you were doing was wrong, but because you had no choice."

Vargas took a deep breath. "What do you want, Matthew?"

Matthew stepped closer, his voice low and firm. "I want you to understand something. If you ever try that again—if you ever use your power to attack me, my company, or the business sector like that—I will respond in kind. And next time, I won't stop at an economic warning shot. I will make sure the damage is permanent."

Vargas' fingers tapped against his desk. "Are you threatening the Philippine government?"

Matthew smirked. "I'm stating a fact. I have the resources, the influence, and the money to pull this country apart if I have to. You saw what happened when I hinted at relocating Sentinel. Imagine what happens if I actually go through with it."

Vargas narrowed his eyes. "You'd hurt millions of Filipinos."

Matthew shook his head. "No, you would. Because it wouldn't be my decision—it would be yours. You created this mess, and you barely survived it. Next time, I won't be so patient."

Vargas let out a slow exhale, trying to regain his composure. "So, what now? We just pretend none of this happened?"

Matthew leaned forward. "No. You're about to take office. And I want you to do your damn job. Govern properly. Fix the corruption, the inefficiency, the bureaucracy. Actually make a difference instead of playing political games."

Vargas scoffed. "That's easy for you to say. You've never had to run a country."

Matthew's expression hardened. "Not yet."

Vargas stilled. "What does that mean?"

Matthew took a step back, his gaze unwavering. "It means if you fail—if you let this country rot under your leadership, if you continue letting corrupt officials bleed it dry—I will run against your party in the next election."

Silence filled the room.

Vargas laughed, but it was hollow. "You're serious."

"Dead serious."

Vargas shook his head, trying to mask his discomfort. "You think money wins elections?"

Matthew smiled. "No. But it helps. And right now, I have more of it than anyone in this country. I don't need to steal from the government, I don't need to cut backroom deals. I can fund my own campaign, hire the best strategists, and expose every single corrupt politician that has been feeding off this country for decades."

Vargas' face darkened. "You'd make yourself a target."

Matthew shrugged. "I already am."

Vargas clenched his jaw. "You really think you can change this country?"

"I know I can," Matthew said without hesitation. "Because I don't owe anyone favors. I don't need to protect the old political dynasties. I don't need to please the oligarchs. If I run, I will run to win. And if I win, I will tear down the system that's been strangling this country for generations."

Vargas remained quiet, his fingers gripping the arms of his chair.

Matthew turned to leave but paused at the door. "You have a choice, Vargas. Be the leader this country needs, or be the reason I take your place."

With that, he walked out, leaving the president-elect to sit in stunned silence.

As Matthew stepped outside, the sunlight felt sharper, the air crisper. He knew he had just made an enemy out of the most powerful man in the country. But he didn't care.

Because this wasn't just about business anymore.

It was about the future.

***

Matthew stepped into his SUV, the door closing behind him with a firm thud. As the vehicle pulled away from Malacañang, he remained silent, his thoughts sharp and unrelenting. The confrontation with Vargas had gone exactly as he planned—direct, uncompromising, and most importantly, undeniable.

Angel and Lucas were waiting for him at Sentinel HQ, their expressions expectant as he walked into the conference room.

"How did it go?" Angel asked, leaning forward.

Matthew set his phone on the table and took a seat. "Vargas knows I'm serious. I made it clear—if he screws this country over, I'll be coming for his job."

Lucas let out a low whistle. "You just declared war on the political establishment."

Matthew exhaled. "They declared war on me first."

Angel crossed her arms. "So what's the next step?"

Matthew met her gaze, unwavering. "We prepare. We expand Sentinel, we grow our influence, and we build a movement. If Vargas stumbles, I won't just be waiting in the wings—I'll be ready to take over."

A heavy silence filled the room.

For the first time, the possibility of Matthew Borja as a future leader wasn't just a threat.

It was a promise.

As the SUV cruised through the streets of Manila, Matthew leaned against the cool leather seat, staring out the window. The city moved on, oblivious to the war that had just begun between him and the political establishment. People rushed to their jobs, vendors lined the streets, and the traffic crawled at its usual frustrating pace. Life continued, even as the country teetered on the edge of something bigger.

He had thrown down the gauntlet.

Vargas had looked at him as if he were insane, but Matthew knew the truth—he wasn't the crazy one. What was truly insane was how this country had allowed itself to be ruled by the same corrupt hands for generations, never learning, never breaking free. The people suffered, but they kept voting for the same names, clinging to empty promises.

That was the real insanity.

He clenched his jaw, forcing himself to breathe. He wasn't angry—anger was useless without direction. He was determined. Focused.

This had never been his plan. He had built Sentinel to innovate, not to engage in political warfare. But when they came after him, when they used the full force of the government to try and destroy what he had built, they had forced his hand.

He had power. Real power.

Not the kind that came from inherited political influence, or from cutting under-the-table deals with oligarchs. His power came from something far more dangerous—independence. He didn't owe anyone favors. He didn't need approval from any senator or congressman to move forward with his plans. He wasn't tied down by legacy, by dynasties, by the corrupt network of backroom deals that had suffocated this country for decades.

And that made him the greatest threat the establishment had ever seen.

If he ran, he wouldn't need to beg for endorsements. He wouldn't have to play by their rules.

He could rewrite the rules entirely.

The thought sent a shiver through him. Not out of fear, but out of something else.

Anticipation.

He turned back toward the cityscape. There were millions of people out there—workers, students, business owners, families—all just trying to survive in a system designed to keep them struggling. How many of them even realized how rigged the game was? How many of them knew that no matter how hard they worked, the people at the top would never let them rise?

Matthew exhaled sharply.

Vargas thought this was over. He thought he had neutralized the threat.

But he hadn't seen anything yet.

The next few months would be critical. Matthew wouldn't just sit back and wait for Vargas to fail—he would make sure the public saw every misstep, every sign of corruption, every wasted peso that could have been used to improve their lives.

And while he does that, he will also focus on his ventures. It's high time that he dominates every industry in the Philippines.