Elo contemplated the Prime Minister’s words carefully.

What he needed wasn’t platitudes or reassurance but a candid exchange that struck at the core of the issues.

However, as the Prime Minister’s speech concluded, Elo couldn’t conceal the disappointment in his heart.

If a perfect score were 100, the Prime Minister’s words and demeanor would earn no more than a 70 in his estimation—while his personal passing mark was 80.

After a moment of silence, Elo raised his head, his tone calm but tinged with skepticism:

"If you were me, would you accept these words?"

The Prime Minister was slightly taken aback and was about to speak, but Elo raised his hand to stop him.

Elo sighed softly and shook his head. "Forget it."

This sentence seemed as much directed at the Prime Minister as it was at himself.

He rose and walked to the window, gazing at the night sky outside the open frame.

The gentle night breeze brushed against his cheeks as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, as if trying to use its coolness to calm the troubles in his heart.

The Prime Minister’s hands instinctively tightened. He understood deeply that this conversation could not end here.

His gaze rested on Elo, filled with unwavering determination and sincerity.

"Your Excellency, may I hear your true thoughts?

If you have any troubles, we can work together to find a solution.

You don’t need to bear these burdens alone, especially since they stem from us in the first place."

He paused briefly, choosing his words carefully, his tone growing more earnest:

"I understand your distrust of politicians and your aversion to politics.

But at this moment, I humbly ask you not to see me as a politician, but as an ordinary person, just like you."

Hearing this, Elo slowly turned back toward the Prime Minister, his gaze falling upon him once more.

He did not see an ordinary person but a passionate and sincere politician, whose steadfast gaze carried a force that could not be ignored.

That fervor, sincerity, and resolve left Elo with no escape, as if the very air in the room had grown heavier.

He didn’t want to talk to him anymore, yet he couldn’t escape it.

After quietly sighing in his heart, he eventually broke the silence and asked, “What do you think politics is?”

The Prime Minister, of course, had his own answer, but he understood that Elo wasn’t seeking his response; he was offering an opportunity to express his own views.

“Please, go ahead.”

Elo’s gaze drifted slightly toward the window. He took a moment to gather his thoughts, trying to articulate his response as precisely as possible.

“I think politics is about people—a person, a group of people, countless people.

So, when hearts and minds change, politics changes with them.

Therefore, your systems and laws, no matter how perfect they are, are meaningless because it is still humans who enforce them.

How long has it been since the Soviet Union collapsed? And why did it happen?

At its core, the root cause lies in the shift of people’s hearts.”

After saying this, Elo shook his head slightly, as though regretting mentioning the collapse of the Soviet Union.

“I’m not here to discuss the Soviet Union. What I want to say is this: people are politics.

That’s why no matter how many promises you make to me right now, no matter how good they sound, they are meaningless.

Because you can only represent the ten thousand survivors of this moment—not all the people of the future, and certainly not your descendants.”

He paused briefly, as if to give the Prime Minister time to absorb his words, then continued:

“You may think this is overthinking, but I’m telling you: it’s not.

I don’t know how long my lifespan will be, but I feel it could be ten thousand years, or even longer.

And how long has human history lasted?

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

In those ten thousand years, how many people will be born, grow, and pass away?

In those ten thousand years, how many dynasties will rise, and how many empires will turn to dust?

How many nations will raise the banner of ideals, only to collapse in the end?

How many children are forced to bear responsibilities they should not have, all because of their parents' dying wishes?”

He paused, fixing his gaze on the Prime Minister.

“And how long can your promises last? Ten years? A hundred?

In the face of the vast expanse of time, these promises are no more than footprints on the sand, destined to be washed away by the tide.

This isn’t skepticism toward you but reverence for both human nature and time itself.

Over ten thousand years, the only thing that endures is not systems, not laws, and not promises—it’s the human heart.

If the hearts of the people are lost, politics will ultimately become empty rhetoric.

And over ten thousand years, who can guarantee that the hearts of people will never change?”

The Prime Minister's gaze froze slightly, as if struck by Eilo's words.

His Adam's apple moved gently, but no sound came out, as if all language seemed powerless in this moment.

Elonoticed the Prime Minister's reaction, his gaze shifting slightly.

He changed his tone, his voice carrying a hint of heaviness and complexity, and said, looking directly at the Prime Minister:

"But I know this: you are you, and your descendants are your descendants—these are two separate matters.

I also understand that what you can offer me are only these promises, because they are all you can give."

Hearing Eilo's shift in tone, the Prime Minister's eyes revealed a trace of surprise.

he keenly realized that Eilo's next words would bring them the answer they most needed.

"I deeply understand that now is not the time to worry about future matters.

When those things happen, we will find ways to handle them.

In fact, when the people no longer need me, I can leave.

Power and status are not what I desire.

By then, those willing to follow me, I will take with me;

those who choose to stay, we will part ways amicably.

There will be no wives losing their husbands, no children losing their fathers, no bloodshed, no sacrifices, and no civil war.

We will bid each other farewell joyfully and wish one another a bright and beautiful future.

Isn’t that a wonderful outcome? Why worry so much about what’s yet to come?

I am not a fool. I understand all of this."

The Prime Minister's Adam's apple moved slightly again. He tried to conceal his inner emotions, but the feelings revealed in his brows and eyes betrayed him.

He knew all too well what Eilo's words meant. They signified this:

The Human Federation had gained almost everything.

This "everything" was Eilo's recognition, his promise—the foundation for the continuation of human civilization.

And most precious among it all was Eilo's willingness to provide a path to peace for everyone, in his own way.

He couldn't help but speak, his voice low and filled with a trace of heartfelt emotion:

"If you already understand, then why do you still worry..."

Before he could finish, the Prime Minister abruptly stopped speaking.

His gaze changed instantly, for he realized the answer to his own question.

That answer did not come from Elo from something the Prime Minister himself had said earlier.

Those words, like an echo of self-reflection, struck the softest part of his heart.

Elo cast his gaze out the window, the night breeze gently brushing against his face.

His voice carried a tone of helplessness and self-deprecation, mixed with profound suppression and exhaustion:

"I know many principles, but so what? What good does it really do to know them?"

He paused, his tone growing even heavier:

"Everyone understands the importance of world peace, and everyone knows the significance of eliminating poverty and hunger.

But why is this world still filled with war? Why are nearly 750 million people still suffering from hunger?

Is it because we don’t want to make this world a better place?

Of course not. Countless people have worked hard for this, and their efforts are by no means meaningless, nor are they without value.

Then why is it like this? Because we are imperfect. We are complex human beings, not moral saints."

At this point, Elo stopped, turning his gaze to the Prime Minister. His eyes reflected a mix of complexity and helplessness:

"I’m no different. I’m not a hero, nor a great man, and certainly not a savior. I am simply a person.

As you know, I lack social skills, I have no friends, my habits are terrible, and I’m not particularly humorous.

I’m even lazy, lustful, petty, selfish, with my head filled with unrealistic, laughable fantasies.

But that’s who I am—a plain and complex human being."

The Prime Minister listened quietly. He could have chosen to respond, to offer comforting words to Elo, urging him not to be so harsh on himself.

But in the end, he chose silence.

He knew that anything he said at this moment would seem powerless and would only provoke Elo's aversion.

The only thing he could do was to remember these words and respond with the actions of the Human Federation government in the days to come.

Elo let out a deep breath, as though releasing the weight within his heart.

His voice was calm yet carried a hint of resolve:

"The things you want me to do, I will do, because none of us has a choice.

But I want you to understand this:

I am a person—a person with selfishness, with positions, and with my own interests.

And there's one more thing you must be clear about:

Over the past thirty years, my character and values have undergone multiple changes.

And in the long future ahead, I cannot predict what I will become.

Perhaps, as you hope, I will become a great figure, a leader;

But I might also fall into depravity, becoming a tyrant who exploits the people, or even a debauched and incompetent monarch.

For now, you enjoy the benefits I bring;

Then, when I become a villain, you must also bear that risk."

Elo paused briefly, his tone firm and imbued with unshakable determination:

"I will never, and dare not, entrust my fate into your hands.

Your promises, systems, and laws appear to me as pale and powerless, completely devoid of value.

As for the will of the people, when people's thoughts change, so does their will.

The will of the people is like smoke—fickle and elusive, impossible to grasp or rely upon.

I know how to protect myself.

Over the past thirty years, human civilization has taught me a brutal principle—political power grows out of the barrel of a gun.

If reality weren’t so merciless, I too would wish for all this to remain only in history books.

But reality will not give me a second chance, and I dare not entrust the lives of myself and my family to such an extravagant hope.

That said, don’t misunderstand me—I have never thought of relying on you, the Federation's army, to ensure my safety.

Armies are also made up of people, and throughout the history of human civilization, whether in the West or the East, examples of military coups are countless.

If I were to entrust my life and fate to the army, that would be the height of foolishness."

A trace of sharpness flashed through Elo's gaze, and his voice, like a blade, pierced straight into the heart:

"Remember, what I rely on is true power, true wealth, and true force—the Transcendent.

If you truly regard my family as weak and easy to bully, like Louis XVI or the last Tsar.

then I don’t mind personally reminding you—who the real boss is here!"