The Almighty Dominance (by Sunshine) novel Chapter 377

The State of Colombia, under Governor Pablo Falcao, was in a live conference with six other state governors.

“Four new governors in just one year—Vancouver, Los Angeles, Chicago, and Paris… unbelievable,” Pablo muttered, his voice thick with contempt.

“They must have been handpicked by the king himself,” he added, leaning forward.

“We, the old guard, can’t just sit here and let that boy do whatever he wants. If we don’t act now, we’ll be replaced too.”

“We can’t let that stupid, brainless king—who spends his days chasing women—lead this country into ruin!”

One of the governors raised an eyebrow. “Pablo, don’t you think the new king is better than the old one?”

“He’s too young to be our king—and far too foolish!” Pablo snapped.

His palm slammed against the table with a crack that echoed through the call. “If he stops us from making weapons, where the hell will our profits come from?”

“Oh, come on, Pablo. We’re the weakest country out there. Any weapon we make means nothing to the others.”

“Honestly, I think the king made a wise move—shutting down weapon production and focusing on farming,” one governor said.

“That’s because your Vinland State only has farms!” Pablo roared, his face flushing with anger.

“Can’t you see? He’s turning this proud nation into a weak, weaponless, coward’s land!”

“I’m done with this conversation,” the Vinland governor shot back before cutting his camera feed and leaving the meeting.

“Get out, you coward!” Pablo barked after him. Then he glared at the others.

“And what about you? Are you with me or not? Our king is a coward. He’s weak and he will lead this country to ruin!”

Pablo began cursing loudly, rallying the others to his side—when something happened.

The five remaining governors saw it first: a man suddenly appeared behind Pablo, landing lightly as if he had dropped from the air.

“So, Pablo,” the man said, voice calm yet deadly, “you want to rebel against your king?”

Pablo’s blood turned to ice. He twisted around and his face went pale.

“I heard everything,” the man continued, stepping closer.

“And I’ll give you one chance. Take one hit from my palm. If you can stand after it, you’ll be king.”

Alex stood there—King Alexander Leonhart himself.

“What… what are you doing here?” Pablo’s voice cracked.

“I have eyes and ears everywhere,” Alex said coldly.

“When I make a decision, do you think I don’t know who will use it to fan rebellion? Do you take me for a fool?”

“I… I…” Pablo had always believed the young king had strength but no cunning.

But now, seeing Alex here—knowing he had set a trap and sprung it personally—shattered that belief.

“You here to kill me?” Pablo asked.

“No,” Alex replied. “I’m giving you the chance to take my place, under the old law.”

“Only the most powerful in the country can be king. I defeated the old king with my power. If you want the throne, defeat me the same way.”

Alex closed the distance, stopping barely a meter from Pablo. His eyes were cold, unblinking.

“Don’t make others fight and bleed for you. Take one of my strikes yourself. If you survive, the throne is yours—today.”

Sweat streamed down Pablo’s face. He had wanted rebellion through armies and politics, not a duel of raw power. Still, pride forced him to answer.

“If I block one of your attacks, I’ll be king?”

“No,” Alex said, his voice like steel. “If you survive one of my attacks, you’re king.”

Pablo barked out a laugh. “I’m a superhuman too. You think you can kill me with one hit? You are really stupid!”

“Here I come.” Alex’s voice was final, like the slam of a coffin lid.

In a blur, his palm shot forward.

The impact was like a thunderclap from the heavens—air shattered, the ground trembled.

Pablo was blasted backward with such force that the wall behind him vanished in an instant, reduced to dust and flying debris.

Stone and wood exploded outward, leaving a gaping hole that opened straight to the outside.

The live connection cut.

Within hours, the news erupted across the country: Governor Pablo Falcao of Colombia had openly defied the king’s orders and conspired to lead a rebellion.

The military moved swiftly, capturing Pablo and every member of his family. They were sentenced to death.

One state governor sat watching the broadcast, his hand trembling.

For a year after the young king’s rise, nothing had happened—so certain states began to speak louder, mock him openly, belittle him month after month.

But the loudest voice among them had just been silenced.

“He’s been watching us the whole time,” the governor whispered. “Waiting for the right moment… just for a reason. He’s smart. He’s hunting us.”

“Secretary!” the governor barked into the phone.

“Yes, Governor?” a man answered, stepping in.

“Everything we’ve been preparing to drag the king’s name down—erase it now. All of it. Every line, every plan. From now on, we follow him.”

“Are you sure, Governor? We’ve worked hard for a year—”

“Do what I told you! Now!”

“Yes…”

The governor wiped sweat from his forehead—then his phone buzzed with a message.

“Good move, Governor. You just missed your death sentence.”

A cold weight dropped into his stomach. This was supposed to be his secure line.

He grabbed another phone and called his closest ally, his voice shaking.

“You told me the king was an idiot—strong but brainless. Always chasing women, ignoring the government. How the hell does he know everything about us?”

On the other end, the man sighed heavily. “Because the king told me to spread that image of him… to you and everyone else.”

And in that moment, the governor realized the truth: for a year, they thought they were hunters… but they’d been prey, watched by the real hunter all along.