Building a Conglomerate in Another World Chapter 223: Race Against Time

President Matthew Hesh sat in the Oval Office, his fingers drumming lightly on the polished mahogany desk. The air was thick with tension as he waited for the arrival of xican Ambassador Eduardo Velásquez. Outside, the distant hum of the city mixed with the chants of angry protestors demanding war. The pressure was mounting, but Matthew refused to act on emotion.

He needed the truth.

The clock struck noon when Collins entered the room. "Mr. President, the xican Ambassador has arrived."

Matthew stood, adjusting his suit. "Bring him in."

Collins nodded and stepped aside, allowing Eduardo Velásquez to enter. The ambassador was a tall, distinguished man in his late fifties, his graying hair slicked back, his posture composed yet weary. His sharp, intelligent eyes studied the room before finally settling on the President.

"Señor Presidente," Velásquez greeted formally, his voice calm but asured. "I appreciate you taking the ti to et with despite the current… tensions."

Matthew gestured to the chair in front of his desk. "Please, have a seat, Ambassador."

Velásquez obliged, setting his hat on his lap. "I must say, I was surprised by your invitation, considering your Congress is already discussing a declaration of war."

Matthew’s jaw tightened. "I want to get to the bottom of this before anyone makes a decision we can’t take back." He leaned forward. "Fort McKinley. Over forty Arathian soldiers dead. All evidence points to xican involvent."

Velásquez’s expression remained neutral. "Evidence, you say?"

Matthew nodded. "xican weapons were found at the scene. Military docunts, insignias, all pointing to your governnt."

Velásquez exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "Señor Presidente, let be perfectly clear: xico had no involvent in this attack."

Matthew studied him carefully. "Then explain the evidence."

The ambassador sat up straighter. "I cannot explain sothing my country did not do. But I can tell you with absolute certainty that there were no xican soldiers operating near your border. Our military forces are stationed miles away from the Arathian border. We lack the strength to provoke a war with your nation, and we certainly wouldn’t be foolish enough to start one."

Matthew didn’t break eye contact. "Then how do you explain the presence of your weapons?"

Velásquez’s lips pressed into a thin line. "How do I know they are truly ours? Anyone can plant weapons, fabricate docunts. Do you have any living witnesses who can confirm that they saw actual xican soldiers attacking the fort?"

Matthew’s silence was enough of an answer.

Velásquez nodded knowingly. "Exactly. You don’t." He leaned forward. "Mr. President, this incident—this trap—has been carefully designed to force your hand. Soone in your governnt wants this war, and they are willing to manipulate your people, your Congress, even you, to get it."

Matthew exhaled sharply. "I was thinking the sa thing."

Velásquez’s eyes darkened. "Then you must understand the danger of acting too quickly. If you attack xico, you will not just be fighting us. Other nations will take notice. Our allies in South Arica will not stand idly by. Neither will Spain, despite their loss to you. Even Britain and France may intervene if they suspect Arathia is growing too bold."

Matthew rubbed his temples. "Damn it."

This wasn’t just about xico anymore. This was about the future of Arathia. If he declared war based on shaky evidence, he would be leading the nation down a path of no return—one of endless conquest, of expansion through deception.

And n like Bradford would be there every step of the way, whispering in Congress’s ear, pushing for more.

Matthew straightened his back. "Ambassador Velásquez, I believe you. But belief isn’t enough. I need proof that xico wasn’t involved. Sothing concrete to take back to my governnt."

Velásquez nodded solemnly. "I understand. And I will do my best to provide it. I will send word to xico City imdiately and request an official statent from our President." He paused before adding, "But will your Congress wait for that, Mr. President?"

Matthew sighed. "I’ll make them wait."

The mont Velásquez entered the White House, William Bradford knew. He sat behind his desk, fingers tapping rhythmically against the wood, his sharp eyes studying the latest headlines.

"Arathian Blood Spilled—xico Must Pay!"

"President Hesh Stalls While xico Laughs at Us!"

"Weak Leadership in a Ti of Crisis!"

Bradford smirked. The newspapers had done their job well. The people were furious, demanding action.

And yet, Hesh was hesitating.

"Of course he is," Bradford muttered to himself. "The fool still thinks this is about justice."

He exhaled sharply and leaned back in his chair. It was ti to accelerate the plan. Hesh could stall all he wanted, but soon, he’d have no choice but to act.

Bradford stood, grabbing his coat. "Ti to pay Congress a visit."

Back in the White House – Oval Office.

Collins entered just as Velásquez stood to leave. "Mr. President, urgent ssage from Congress."

Matthew raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"

Collins hesitated. "They’ve scheduled a vote for a declaration of war against xico."

Matthew felt the blood drain from his face. "Already?"

Collins nodded grimly. "Bradford’s allies are moving fast. They’re rallying senators as we speak. If you don’t act soon, they’ll force your hand."

Matthew turned to Velásquez, his expression unreadable. "Get proof, Ambassador. And do it quickly."

Velásquez gave a curt nod. "I will, Mr. President. For both our nations."

As the ambassador left, Matthew clenched his fists.

Bradford had pushed the pieces into place.

Now, it was a race against ti. Either Matthew stopped the war, or Arathia would march forward into an era of conquest—and there would be no turning back.

Collins shifted uncomfortably, his voice low. "Sir, we may not have much ti. Bradford is already eting with key senators. If they push the vote through, it won’t matter what we do."

Matthew rubbed his temples, frustration boiling beneath the surface. "Damn it, Collins. I need more than just a gut feeling to stop this. If I veto the declaration, I need proof to back it up."

Collins hesitated before replying. "Sir… if Bradford has gone this far, do you think he’s going to let us find proof?"

Matthew’s jaw tightened. "Then we find it before he buries it." He turned back to Collins. "Get Alden and Sinclair in here. We’re not done fighting this war—not yet."