Returning to Dominate The World With My Knowledge System
Chapter 94: President’s Resignation

Chapter 94: Chapter 94: President’s Resignation

"What do you mean by this?!" the President barked, slamming his fist against the heavy table that separated him from the five-man delegation standing before him.

The room was silent except for the low hum of the air conditioner. The curtains were drawn, but even so, muffled chants could be heard in the distance. Outside, the people were still on the streets.

It has been two weeks since the nationwide protest started.

The protest had not died down. If anything, it had grown more fierce and more unified. Roads were blocked. Airports shut down. Businesses frozen and closed up. A country completely paralyzed by its own people.

The economy was on the brink of crippling and it was then that Tyler decided that it was time to make his move. He asked the finance minister and the military chiefs to mobilise themselves, as he gave them orders.

He told them to get the signatures of past military chiefs, past leaders and the powerful member of the national assembly.

And that was how they got to the present.

The President’s bloodshot eyes scanned the paper again, trying to believe it wasn’t real.

At the top was a single sentence:

A Joint Appeal for Peaceful Resignation.

Beneath it, rows of names. Signatures of former military generals, two ex-presidents, several national assembly power brokers, traditional rulers, and even influential business elites.

Many were people he had once trusted. Others were enemies he thought were already too old or too irrelevant to matter.

"What do you mean by this?" he repeated, voice lower, but shaking with barely controlled fury.

General Kanza, the eldest among the delegation and former Chief of Defense Staff, spoke calmly. "We mean exactly what the letter says. It is time, Mr. President."

The President laughed bitterly. "Is that so? And if I don’t? What then? A coup?"

The Finance Minister—who stood to the left of General Kanza—answered, "You don’t need to be forced out. You still have a chance to leave with dignity. But that window is closing."

The President’s jaw twitched. "You dare—?"

"Sir," interrupted one of the younger generals, "the armed forces have already pulled back. None of the commands will respond if you order a crackdown."

Silence.

"You’re lying," the President said.

"No, sir," the general replied. "They’ve seen the meeting footage. They’ve seen what’s been leaked. They’re tired."

The President turned to glare at him. "You think the people out there want Silvanus? A rebel?"

"They want change," said the Finance Minister. "And Silvanus isn’t acting alone. He has backing, and not just from us."

"Is this about the boy?" the President growled. "The one who embarrassed Kalume during that meeting?"

The room remained still.

The President’s lips curled into a snarl. "So you’re all being manipulated by a child."

"No," General Kanza said firmly. "We’re being reminded. That this country doesn’t belong to any one man. That it’s time we stop pretending otherwise."

The President stood up slowly, stepping away from the table and toward the window.

He looked out over the capital. From the State House he could still see faint trails of smoke in the distance. Not fire—just dust and movement. The rhythm of an angry population.

"And what happens if I say no?" he asked softly.

"Then," said the youngest general, "we will walk out of this room, and within the hour, the news of your refusal will be made public."

The President turned sharply.

"You think I care about bad press?"

"No," the general said. "But we’ll also release the rest of the documents. The international transfers. The hospital embezzlement. The land seizures. The mistress wiretaps. And the leaked internal memos you never thought would surface."

The President froze.

The Finance Minister stepped forward. "Sir, you’re not leaving office because of pressure. You’re leaving because the truth finally caught up with you."

"You think they’ll remember me for anything if I go like this?"

"They won’t remember you at all," General Kanza said coldly. "And that’s the best outcome you can ask for."

The President stared at them all. Five men who should’ve stood behind him. Instead, they stood shoulder to shoulder against him.

His hand slowly curled into a fist, but he did not strike. He simply turned and walked back to his seat. He sat down heavily, the letter still in front of him.

Minutes passed.

Then, with a breath that seemed to take all the strength in his lungs, he whispered, "What do you want me to say?"

"Announce your resignation tomorrow morning. Make it public. Say it was your decision, and that you want peace," the Finance Minister replied.

The President’s lips twitched. "And then what? I vanish into exile?"

"You’ll be granted full immunity," General Kanza said. "And escorted to a neutral location of your choice. The international community will back the transition if it’s bloodless."

"And Silvanus?"

"He’ll take temporary charge, with the Assembly forming a transitional council," the Finance Minister replied.

The President looked down at the letter again. His eyes skimmed over the names.

He was done.

He had fought the war. Lost the country. And now, he was being offered a graceful exit. Not mercy. Not honor. Just a way out.

"You bastards," he whispered.

"Maybe," Kanza replied. "But you made us."

The President slowly picked up the pen from beside the letter.

His hand trembled as he signed his name at the bottom.

...

News of the resignation broke across the country before dawn.

Every radio station. Every news broadcast. Every public forum.

A tired, drawn face filled the screen.

"I, the President of the Federal Republic of Gumua, hereby tender my resignation..."

He read the statement word for word.

No ad-libs. No final declarations.

Just an old man conceding to the tide of history.

...

Outside, the streets erupted in cheers.

People screamed, cried, danced. Fireworks burst in some districts. They were all happy that they had finally achieved what they all had wanted for a long time.

But it wasn’t over. There was still the question of what came next.

...

Back in the penthouse, Tyler watched the address finish on the TV.

After it was done, he simply switched off the TV and leaned back in his chair.

David walked in with a glass of water. "He did it."

"He had no choice," Tyler said.

David nodded, then asked, "So what now?"

"We will wait till Silvanus take control and we begin the next phase," Tyler replied.

He stood and walked to the window again. Below him, the city was changing. The cheers rose like a heartbeat. It was slow, strong and alive.