ผู้มีอำนาจ Mga Nobela at Kwento

I know it. And power truly belongs to those who seize it for themselves. "Show me."

⸻ Not power. But choice.

I replied. “And he followed it,” the man said. “Yes,” I said. “That doesn’t define authority,” he said. “No,” I replied. “But it proves something.” “What exactly,” he asked. “That it’s already happening,” I said. He studied me for a moment, then said, “Power alone doesn’t make that happen.” “I know,” I said. “Then what does,” he asked. “Alignment,” I said. The word settled between us, heavy and undeniable. He didn’t like it.

There was a pause as their confidence cracked slightly. “This situation,” he said carefully. I leaned back in my chair. “There is no situation,” I replied. Another man leaned forward slightly. He was older with sharp eyes. “We know it’s you.” I rested my arms lightly on the table. “Then prove it.” But there was silence because they couldn’t. And that? That was the power. Power is not just money, it not just influence but control. The ability to act without leaving a trace. The ability to move pieces on the board while everyone else struggled to understand the game.

(*OK) “Now I’m going to ask you something. Who do you think holds the most power in a country?” Ryu asked. His question sounded like a random one with no clear direction. However, Kyoko responded. Ryu hadn’t been making small talk. “The President, Emperor, Prime Minister, King, Sultan.” Kyoko listed all the options, but Ryu shook his head. “Wrong. The answer is money. A lot of money. The person who has the most money holds the power. No matter the country, the answer will always be the same,” Ryu said with a smile, somewhat satisfied to see Kyoko’s subtle reaction of amazement.

Joseph was suddenly hovering, Coming by the house like he had every right to. Since when did he have that authority? And who gave him the freedom to move around here like he owned the place? As if on cue, the doorknob twisted, and I instinctively knew who it was before I even turned. “Can we talk?” His voice was even casual as always. I turned slowly, my gaze sweeping over him. He was, objectively, a fine man tall, well-dressed, exuding the kind of presence that turned heads. “What are we talking about now?” I asked, crossing my arms. “Are you here to ask again if I saw the face of the person who drugged me? Because the answer is still no or perhaps you wanna get me to get along with your da

He looked majestic, untouchable, like a god surveying his creation. “Do you know what power really is, Riah?” he asked, still looking at the horizon. “Most think it is money, armies, titles. They are wrong. Those are just tools. Power is knowing exactly who you are, exactly what you want, and having the absolute will to take it, keep it, defend it—no matter the cost.” He turned to face me then, his expression severe, eyes glowing in the dim light.

The people here are different, without power you can't do anything, no, in fact even if you do have power, if it isn't enough, you're just trash. In this case, what can I do? What should I do?

For the most part, nothing beat telling uniformed officers and their prim and proper fleets what to do. “When I say people,” ze said, “I mean normal people. Anyone else I’ve ever interacted with were… people of power.” “You say that like no-one in the Republic has power,” Freya replied. “Not like that. It’s a different kind of power, I guess. Not like a personal power kind of thing. But a kind of powerful influence. The kind that pulls other people along with it.” “Kings and queens. Like that?” “Yeah. Emperors and admirals and ministers.”

But by remaining silent, those around him leave him alone in his little martyrdom. “You know, sometimes you hear about situations where someone in power forces his subordinates to do things they don't want to do by various forms of pressure” said Mońka and took a drag on his cigarette. “I don't consider these people to be weak but... powerless. Powerlessness is not that person's weakness, it's the community that doesn't give them support by taking the weapons out of their hands. You know what I mean?”