Miguel had seen enough of politics to know that honesty was never enough.
Villanueva was clean, but clean politicians were often buried under mountains of lies, framed scandals, or sudden "accidents." If he was to survive — much less rise — the Ghost Army would have to work not with guns but with information.
The Political Influence Module pulsed with new data streams. Ghost hackers now tapped into bank records, media control rooms, and social networks. It was a battlefield as real as the streets of Manila, only quieter.
Villanueva's biggest rival in Congress was Senator Arturo Salcedo, a dynasty-backed warlord dressed in a suit. Publicly, he was the face of "economic reform." Privately, he was laundering billions in drug and smuggling money. His clan controlled Cavite like a private kingdom.
Salcedo had been preparing to run for higher office — possibly the Senate presidency, maybe even the vice presidency. To get there, he needed Villanueva silenced.
For Miguel, that made him the perfect first target.
Miguel summoned Echo One and Delta Lead to the FOB briefing room. The map showed a red circle over Cavite.
"Salcedo controls logistics from the port," Miguel said. "He moves cash, drugs, weapons through dummy corporations. On the surface, it looks clean. But the money trail is sloppy. He thinks no one is watching. We're watching."
The plan was simple: expose Salcedo in a way Villanueva could claim publicly without dirtying his hands.
Bravo Squad infiltrated warehouses at midnight, planting covert cameras and siphoning digital ledgers. Ghost hackers cracked offshore accounts tied to shell companies. Within seventy-two hours, they had the proof: a billion-peso laundering network.
Miguel smiled grimly. "Salcedo built a glass house. Time to throw a stone."
As expected, Salcedo's camp launched an early strike against Villanueva. Tabloids and trolls accused the congressman of "secret ties" to a leftist insurgent group. Hashtags trended overnight, memes flooded feeds, and reporters hounded him outside the Batasan complex.
But Miguel was already two steps ahead. The Ghost Army flooded the same networks with counter-leaks: bank records, shipping manifests, photos of Salcedo's men moving crates at the Cavite docks.
Then came the real blow. One morning, every major news network received an anonymous encrypted file dump: "SALCEDO DOSSIER Evidence of Corruption."
It was surgical. Receipts of drug shipments, videos of cash exchanges, signed authorizations by Salcedo himself.
By evening, the senator was on every headline — from kingmaker to criminal in a single day.
When Villanueva faced the press the next day, Miguel watched the live broadcast from the FOB. The congressman stood straighter than before, his voice firm but calm.
"I warned before that corruption is eating this country alive. Now you see proof. We cannot let dynasties enrich themselves while ordinary Filipinos suffer."
The reporters swarmed him, firing questions. Villanueva didn't flinch. He had the truth at his back, and he wielded it like a weapon.
For the first time, he wasn't just an idealist crying in the wilderness. He was a man with real weight.
Miguel leaned back in his chair, satisfied. This was how victories looked in politics — not explosions in the night, but reputations burning under daylight.
Salcedo denied everything, of course, calling it a smear orchestrated by "foreign enemies." But the evidence was overwhelming. Investigations opened, allies began to distance themselves, and whispers of disqualification spread.
Villanueva's name, meanwhile, surged in the surveys. For the first time, he broke into the top ten reformist politicians to watch.
The System pulsed again:
[Task Update: Political ally strengthened.]
[Reward Granted: Media Manipulation Network. You may now influence trending topics and news cycles at scale.]
Miguel shut off the screen, mind already racing.
This was just the beginning. One rival down, countless more to go. Villanueva's rise would draw enemies sharper, richer, deadlier.
But Miguel welcomed it. The Ghost Army was no longer just soldiers in shadows. It was a machine touching politics, perception, power itself.
That night, Villanueva texted from an unknown number. Miguel read the message twice before letting it fade.
"Whoever you are — I don't know if I should thank you or fear you. But I see now: change is possible."
Miguel typed no reply. He simply looked at the glowing map of the Philippines and whispered to himself:
"Change is coming. Whether the country is ready or not."