Chapter 84: Manila City

Chapter 84: Chapter 84: Manila CityThe Bytebull private jet, sleek and modern with a subtle bullhorn logo, taxied to a VIP section of Ninoy Aquino International Airport. The Manila heat hit Richard like a wave as he stepped out, Feliciano "Ciano" Dela Cruz right behind him. Waiting on the tarmac was a polished black government sedan and Mr. Alejandro Reyes, a mid-level official from the Department of Trade and Industry, dressed in a crisp barong tagalog. Beside him, the driver stood at attention.

Mr. Reyes had seen photos of Richard, but the real thing was something else. Richard was taller, more imposing, his posture perfect, his movements precise. And his eyes—those striking cyan blue eyes—were unlike anything Reyes had ever seen. They seemed to pierce right through you. The driver, usually stoic, couldn’t help but stare a second too long.

Dios mio, he’s... striking. Those photos do him no justice. He looks less like a tech nerd and more like... something else entirely. A movie star? No, more intense.

Mr. Reyes extended a slightly trembling hand. "Mr. Richard Santamo, welcome to Manila. Hope your flight was comfortable?"

Richard’s voice was calm and resonant, his handshake firm. "Mr. Reyes. Thanks. The flight was great. Am I holding up the President’s schedule?"

His new perception allowed him to see the faint, nervous aura around Reyes, the slightly accelerated heartbeat.

"Not at all, sir! President Aquino’s meeting is set for 1:00 PM at Malacañang Palace. We have plenty of time. Maybe grab some lunch before we head over? The President suggested you might appreciate a less formal meal after your journey."

As they walked towards the sedan, Richard noticed movement from the jet’s windows. The flight attendants, who had been professional throughout the flight, were now clustered, waving enthusiastically. Richard, sensing their genuine excitement (a mix of awe and girlish delight, clearly visible as colorful energetic signatures to his PER-enhanced sight), offered a brief, polite smile and a slight nod.

The smile hit them like a jolt. A collective, audible squeal erupted, followed by a flurry of excited, hushed arguments, hands gesturing wildly. "He smiled at me!" "No, me!"

Inside the cool, air-conditioned car, Mr. Reyes settled beside Richard, Ciano taking the front passenger seat. The driver navigated smoothly away from the tarmac.

Mr. Reyes chuckled. "It seems your reputation precedes you, Mr. Santamo. And not just in the tech world. I didn’t realize you were quite so popular with the ladies."



Richard’s tone was light and self-deprecating. "Hardly, Mr. Reyes. I suspect they’re just easily impressed by shiny new things." He added with a slight smirk, "I’m more of a walking, talking teasing comedian than a heartthrob. Just trying to stay humble."

Ciano, without turning, his voice dry as desert sand, said, "Sir, with utmost respect, pimps would take early retirement and enter a monastery if they saw your current... market appeal."

The driver snorted, trying to stifle a laugh. Mr. Reyes chuckled heartily. Richard just shook his head, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips.

The cityscape of Manila unfolded outside the tinted windows—a chaotic yet vibrant mix of old and new. Gleaming skyscrapers, some bearing the Bytebull logo or affiliated tech park insignias, rose alongside centuries-old churches and sprawling, densely packed neighborhoods. Richard’s PER-enhanced vision picked up the thrum of countless lives, the complex interplay of energies.

Richard shifted the topic, his tone becoming more analytical. "Mr. Reyes, regarding the President’s agenda... The decision to push for the Bataan Nuclear Power Plant’s reopening. It’s a bold move, especially considering the historical context and the Aquino family’s political legacy with the Marcoses, who initiated it."

Mr. Reyes leaned forward slightly, his voice lowering. "It is indeed, Mr. Santamo. President Aquino is walking a political tightrope. Reviving Bataan is multi-pronged. Firstly, energy independence is a critical national security concern, as you know.

Secondly, it’s a legacy project, something tangible to define his presidency. Thirdly, yes, it’s an olive branch, or perhaps a calculated appeal, to the Marcos loyalist bloc and the Ilocano vote. He needs to broaden his support if he’s eyeing a constitutionally permitted (or maneuvered) second term in 2016."

Richard said, "A complex gamble. The political winds seem... turbulent. He’ll face formidable challengers, I imagine."

Mr. Reyes smiled wryly. "Turbulent, indeed. And you, Mr. Santamo, are one of the major factors stirring those winds. Bytebull isn’t just a company; it’s a national asset. The economic upswing, the jobs, the technological leap... it’s unprecedented. Every political aspirant wants to be seen as the candidate who can best partner with Bytebull, who can ensure this ’golden age’ continues. Frankly, many would want you to pick their side for 2016."


Richard paused, observing the official’s earnest energy. "And how much difference would my ’picking a side’ truly make in the grand scheme of Philippine politics?"

Mr. Reyes said, "More than you might think. An endorsement, even a perceived one, from Richard Santamo? That’s media gold. Access to your resources, your global network... it’s invaluable. You could subtly influence policy discussions, advocate for initiatives that benefit national R&D, streamline regulations for tech advancement... Of course," (his voice dropped, a hint of practiced cynicism) "there’s always the ’grease’ for the bureaucratic wheels. Entrenched interests, Mr. Santamo. Even the most well-intentioned President needs allies, and sometimes, those allies need... encouragement."

Richard absorbed this, his cyan eyes unreadable. He saw the web of connections, the flow of influence, the darker undercurrents of power, all as tangible energy patterns to his enhanced senses.

"A pragmatic view. In your assessment, Mr. Reyes, who are the frontrunners shaping up to be? Who do you see as having the momentum?"

Mr. Reyes said, a confident glint in his eye, "If you want an honest, off-the-record opinion? Keep an eye on Rodrigo Duterte from Davao."



Richard was genuinely curious, his internal database on current political figures updating. "Mayor Duterte? A city mayor for the presidency? That’s a significant leap. What’s his platform, his national appeal beyond Davao?"

Mr. Reyes said, "His appeal is his simplicity, his iron fist. ’Tapang at Malasakit’ – Courage and Compassion. He’s cultivated an image as a decisive, no-nonsense crime fighter. In a country weary of corruption and inefficiency, that message resonates, especially with the masses. He’s a dark horse, but a powerful one. People are craving a strong hand."

Richard filed this. Duterte’s energy signature, as described by Reyes, would be... potent, perhaps chaotic.

"And the more established names? Bongbong Marcos, for instance?"

Mr. Reyes frowned, choosing his words carefully. "Senator Marcos carries a powerful name, undeniably. And there’s a persistent nostalgia for his father’s era among certain segments. However, Bongbong himself... he lacks the decisive aura of his father, or the raw populism of Duterte. He’s seen as more of a traditional politician, still needing to define a compelling vision that steps out of his father’s long shadow. The ’Tallano gold’ myths and the family’s history are both a boon and a burden for him."

Tallano gold... interesting that Reyes brings it up. If he knew that it is not a myth, he would easily go crazy, but I’m not the type to go after gold and stuff. I’m looking for one of those knowledge crystals. I definitely need to arrange that visit to the Marcoses.

Mr. Reyes’s tone shifted back to broader appreciation. "But these are just speculations for the future, sir. The present, under President Aquino, and largely thanks to Bytebull, is demonstrably brighter. You’ve seen the infrastructure projects? The new tech hubs? The reverse brain drain we’re starting to witness? It’s a new dawn. The President often says that Bytebull has given the Philippines a new kind of sovereignty – technological sovereignty."

Mr. Reyes continued, "And this strength projects outwards. The increased defense budget isn’t just a response to China’s assertiveness in the West Philippine Sea. It’s also a reflection of our renewed standing. Our deepened cooperation with the USA, facilitated by shared interests in technological security – much of which your company pioneers – gives us more leverage, more security. Bytebull has, in essence, made the Philippines a more critical global player."

Richard nodded slowly, looking out the window, in University Campus visible in the distance, a beacon of modernity. He felt the weight of that statement, the vast responsibility.

Much Later

Mr. Reyes gestured expansively as they passed a row of upscale international restaurants in Manila City. "So, Mr. Santamo, for lunch? We have Michelin-star establishments, private dining... whatever suits your preference before we head to the Palace."

Richard considered for a moment, a flicker of an old memory crossing his mind. He thought of his mother, of simpler times. "Actually, Mr. Reyes... I’ve been craving some Mang Inasal. The unli-rice, the chicken oil... It’s been far too long."

Mr. Reyes, momentarily surprised, then broke into a warm grin. "Mang Inasal! An excellent, down-to-earth choice, sir! A man of the people. Classic! Driver, you know the best branch nearby."

The black sedan pulled up to a vibrant, bustling Mang Inasal branch. The aroma of grilled chicken and garlic rice hung heavy in the air. As Richard stepped out, his height and unique aura immediately drew attention. Heads turned. Conversations stuttered. Smartphones, ubiquitous even here, were quickly raised, flashes occasionally going off. A group of teenagers by the entrance gasped, one girl nearly dropping her halo-halo.

"Who is that? Is he a celebrity?" one teenager whispered loudly.



"OMG, It’s Richard from ByteCon. his eyes are so blue! He’s way hotter in personal." another exclaimed.

Richard grimaced slightly as he navigated the stares, muttering to Ciano, "It’s like walking through a field of tripwires. I never quite anticipated this level of... public scrutiny for a software developer."

Ciano, his eyes calmly scanning the surroundings, ever watchful, replied, "Sir, with your current public image and... distinct visual characteristics, you’ve transcended ’software developer.’ You are, for better or worse, a public figure. A ’celebrity,’ as they say."

Richard sighed. "Even though I like to flex in the mirror. It’s quite embarrassing when there are people looking."

Ciano offered a barely perceptible smile.

The restaurant was packed, noisy, and alive with the clatter of plates and cheerful chatter. The driver, resourceful and quick, secured a recently vacated table near a window. Mr. Reyes, eager to please, headed to the counter, navigating the queue with practiced ease. Richard slid onto a plastic-molded bench, Ciano opposite him. His gaze swept across the familiar yellow and green décor. The energy of the place was a chaotic, warm, and vibrant hum to his senses.

Richard’s voice was softer now, a wistful note creeping in. "It feels like a lifetime ago... but it was probably only two years. Mom and I used to come to a branch just like this one in Laguna at least once a week." He gestured vaguely with his hand. "We’d bring our own rice pot we already cooked."

A faint smile played on his lips. "Their unlimited rice was a lifesaver, but you’d have to wait forever for a refill, and half the time it was either too dry or too mushy. Mom always said, ’Why gamble with perfection when you can bring your own?’"

His eyes drifted to a corner table, packed with lively college students, their backpacks slung over chairs, books and notebooks piled high. Amidst their plates of chicken inasal and bowls of sinigang, sat not one, but three small, steaming rice cookers, extension cords snaking discreetly to a wall outlet.

Richard chuckled softly, a genuine, unguarded sound as he nudged Ciano with his elbow. "Hey, look at that. The next generation. They’ve upgraded the strategy."

One of the students, a young man with bright, intelligent eyes, caught Richard looking. He saw the direction of Richard’s gaze towards their rice cookers, then Richard’s amused expression. A wide grin spread across the student’s face. He gave Richard a knowing thumbs-up and gestured proudly to their setup. His friends, noticing the exchange, also looked over, smiling and chuckling when they realized what amused the famous tech billionaire.

Richard returned the thumbs-up, a shared sense of understanding passing between them—a silent acknowledgment of a uniquely Filipino approach to maximizing a good deal. For a moment, he wasn’t Richard Santamo, Bytebull founder and global influencer; he was just another guy who appreciated a perfectly cooked, truly unlimited supply of rice.