The morning after AquaPure set up its people-first hub, Rafael woke to a call from Maria. Her voice was sharp, clipped.
"Customs just blocked our trucks at the city border. They're saying the paperwork's incomplete."
Rafael sat up in his cot, heart sinking. "We filed everything."
"Exactly," Maria replied. "This isn't about papers. It's about him."
By noon, the retaliation was in full swing. City inspectors suddenly appeared at the warehouse, demanding to "review fire safety compliance." A health officer tried to shut down the water testing station over "unsanitary procedures." Even the electric company claimed AquaPure had "unpaid fees" and cut power for three hours before a furious Rosa chased them off with a broom.
Jericho spat on the pavement. "Bastards. They're squeezing us. If this keeps up, we can't ship anything out of Cotabato."
The Codex pulsed cold lines of text across Rafael's vision:"Analysis: Coordinated political sabotage. Origin: Local executive authority. Countermeasures: Leverage public support, document harassment, secure alternate supply routes, expose corruption."
That evening, Rafael gathered his crew around a lantern-lit table in the warehouse. The mood was tense, the workers whispering nervously.
"We knew this was coming," Rafael said. His voice was low but steady. "HydraCorp fought us with money. Now, politicians fight us with paper and stamps. But their weapon is also their weakness."
Maria frowned. "Meaning?"
"We document everything," Rafael replied. "Every bribe hint, every false inspection, every delay. We show the people. We already won their trust—now we use it."
Rosa leaned forward, eyes blazing. "You're saying fight him in the open? Like we did HydraCorp?"
"Exactly." Rafael nodded. "We don't bend, we don't pay. We drag him into the light."
The counterattack began the next day. Journalists were invited to "observe" the sudden wave of inspections. Rosa streamed live on social media as officials awkwardly demanded fees without receipts. Jericho filmed crates of filters sitting untouched at the checkpoint while mothers lined up outside, waiting for clean water.
Within hours, hashtags spread: #LetCotabatoDrink and #CleanWaterBlocked.
At the barangay market, vendors muttered angrily at city hall. "Why stop the filters? Our children need them." By nightfall, angry crowds gathered outside the mayor's office, demanding answers.
Inside his office, the mayor slammed a newspaper on his desk, face twisted with rage. "That rat is turning my own people against me."
One of his aides whispered nervously, "Should we… call the syndicates?"
The mayor's jaw clenched. "Not yet. If I can't crush him with papers, then maybe I'll have to burn him with fire."
Back at the warehouse, the Codex pulsed a chilling warning:"Threat escalation predicted: 91%. Sabotage or violent strike likely within 72 hours."
Rafael stared at the message, his fists tightening. HydraCorp's shadow war had prepared him for this—but this time, it wasn't a multinational giant. It was his own government turning the screws.
He looked at his weary but loyal team. "If they come with shadows and fire, then we meet them the same way we always have—head-on. No fear."
Maria glanced at him, worry flickering in her eyes. "This won't just be about business anymore. This is survival."
Rafael nodded grimly. "Then we survive. And we show Cotabato that no one—not even their mayor—owns AquaPure."
The night outside was quiet, but everyone in the warehouse felt it: the storm was coming.