[Slokais]

Abraham Wallace’s office in Presidential House was far from glamorous, just a few years earlier he had a corner office in the Queensway Tower in San Fernando. He used to be able to see the ocean on a clear day, and now all he got was a half peak of an inner courtyard. Yet, the power in this office was greater than anything he had before. President Weasley had been an old family friend of his, so when the time came Abraham quietly slipped his name into conversations. In 2023, he had been named as "Advisor for Judicial Affairs”, an alternative to the much more important Minister of Interior Affairs which was appointed by the Prime Minister. Yet it had granted him access to a select club which had knowledge of all that had gone on. Free thinkers, those who realized the current established state wouldn’t last. A friend had invited him to an event shortly after his appointment. Held in the hills of Northrock Ward, much had been discussed. He saw the vision, this country was never supposed to even stay together in the first place.

“Mr Wallace,” his secretary said holding papers in her hand
“Yes” Abraham said
“Here are the documents,” she said, handing over a stack of papers.
“Which paper?”
“Between 3rd and 4th” she said
“Thank you, give me 5 minutes”
“Yes, Mr Wallace” she said, closing the door behind her.

After a minute or so, Abraham grabbed the flash drive between the papers and put it into his computer. Inside was a collection of files. First was a blank pdf document, titled “Do_What_You_Must”. The second file was an image of a DNA collection website, on it was the family tree and background for one “Luis Islador Estvez”. Most of the other names were unknown except for one “Joseph H.R Chavez”. The third file was a Department of Corrections file for Luis Estevez who was currently being held in Santa Fe Provincial Penitentiary. The last file was a rap song, which Abrahm didn’t even bother listening to. He knew what we needed, he pulled out the flash drive and placed it under the stack, making sure to place papers in the exact spot it had been just a few minutes prior. Abraham nodded, the signal for the cameras to be turned back on. He then flipped through the papers he had been given which were the same dull reports of various judicial affairs.

As his driver pulled into the parking garage of Evergreen Manor, a luxury apartment in the Midtown ward of New Liverpool, Abraham got a phone call.
“This is Abraham,” he said
“Sir, I have a few questions about your financial choices,” his financial advisor asked
“Go ahead”
“Unless you know something I don’t. There is no point in buying an obscure music label that hasn’t had a top hit in almost a decade. Have you been hacked?”
“I have done some talent scouting; they're about to have a massive single on their hands.” Abraham said with confidence
“I didn’t think you would have interest in that kind of music, sir.” his advisor said.
“I have kids, Manuel,” Abraham said as he stepped into the elevator of his building.



Luis Islador Salavdor Estevez, also known as “Lil ISJ” was a prolific name within the S-rap scene in San Jose. Specifically, the “Jalancalle” sub-genre known for its heavy bass and associations with criminal organizations. Yet at the height of his popularity, ISJ was caught in a murder-for-hire plot against a local politician. The resulting SIB and San Jose Police investigation found Estevez was involved with the Generación Baru, a multi-national drug empire. As a result, he was sentenced to 20 years in prison in 2010, yet due to a personal connection with Pablo Salsantes, a prominent Conservative MSL, his sentence was commuted by President Weasley. A shift from the hardline “lock’em all up” attitude that had been given out in the past, yet it still went ahead. In their release, the Presidential House declared that “Estevez is one of a few prisoners who have been rehabilitated the right way through the power of faith.” Most likely a reference to a 2023 song where he declared, “ISJ, I’m a genius, it stands for In-service of Jesus.” Either way, Luis was now walking out of prison a free man. For most people, the story would end here, yet for Luis, his unknown family connections would bring him right into the spotlight.

Luis had been locked away in what had been nicknamed “The Pit”, a modern prison built inside thick colonial-era walls. Conditions had been horrid, although Luis had used his fame to get by. Sometimes he would sing a few songs, write a few bars in exchange for a couple extra packets of Bihun noodles. Regardless, Luis had been an unknown on the outside. His manager had taken all of the profits and run, his girlfriend had another child without him, and Lil ISJ had been forgotten. Yet, there was somehow a fancy limo parked out front for him. Luis opened the back door. Inside, Pablo Salsantes and another older-looking man were already helping themselves to a bottle of rice wine.
“Free as a bird,” Salsantes said
“Thank you. Sir” Luis said, bowing as he held out his hand
Luis then turned to the other man
“Who’s this, orang?”
“Abraham Wallace, businessman, friend to the President herself”
“Damn, Señorita Presidenta?”
“I’m not sure I would call her that, but yes,” Abrahim said, his voice hinting at his high-society background
“Mr. Wallace paid for this car and has some news to share with you,” Salsantes said as he knocked on the window to signal the driver.

As the car moved along the San Fernando River, Mr Wallace began his pitch.
“As you may be aware, your manager took your money and brought your masters.”
“Yeah, the stupid anjian,” Luis mused
“Well, I don’t know what way to put this, but your dad’s cousin is Joseph Chavez.”
“El Presidente, damn. Would have voted if I could”
Salsantes looked disappointed at that statement.
“Well, would it be cool if he knew about your relationship and let you rot?”
“Well…No..but”
“I have purchased your masters, Mr Estevez”
“You don’t look like a Jalancalle orang?”
“I don’t understand those last two words, but yes. What matters is that it could be yours again if you just sign this contact here” Wallace said as he pulled a paper from his briefcase.
“You’re not the devil right?” Luis laughing
“No, I’m a man of God”
“Good, what do you need me to do?”
“Make a new song, we already have a whole team lined up”
“That’s it, you should have led with that orang” Luis said laughing as he poured himself some of Valleres Vintage which was in a mini-fridge in the backseat.
“We are happy to have you out. We are going to a hotel now. Anything you want, call me” Salsantes said as they turned onto a highway.