Los Santos, White House — What began as a heated debate over crippling tax rates exploded into one of the most dramatic political showdowns in recent memory. At exactly 18h00, top CEOs, managers, and business leaders gathered for the highly anticipated Executive Dialog, a meeting intended to address the city’s 30% corporate tax rate. Instead, the evening descended into chaos, accusations, violence, and a shocking hostage crisis that has left the entire nation reeling.
The meeting started cautiously, with many business leaders hesitant to speak. But that silence was shattered when Itachi Makhedama, a well-known and outspoken figure in the corporate world, rose to his feet.
With a commanding voice, Makhedama declared:
“We are the backbone of this city. Yet we are being choked by these taxes. Enough is enough — we demand change!”
His words electrified the room, sparking cheers and support from fellow company owners. The air grew thick with tension as murmurs turned to chants, and chants soon erupted into outright demands.
The President, visibly unshaken, stood his ground and defended the government’s tax policies. He pointed to the immense costs of running the city, particularly in maintaining a reliable health sector.
“Do you want a city without doctors? Do you want to return to the days when ambulances sat idle and citizens died in the streets?” he asked sternly.
“The Minister of Health earns R100,000 per hour, and unless we pay competitive salaries, we lose the medics that keep this city alive. These taxes are not theft — they are survival.”
The President offered a concession, proposing to lower the corporate tax rate from 30% to 20%, but refused to go any lower.
Business owners were far from satisfied. They argued that the government already bled them dry through countless other streams:
Medical expenses: R50,000 per week
Toll gates and speeding fines: frequent and costly
Job tax and property tax: steadily rising burdens
In a furious outcry, one CEO shouted:
“Why must we carry the city on our shoulders while others line their pockets? Where does all this money go?”
The most explosive moment came when accusations were hurled at the Mayor himself. Allegations surfaced that, immediately after a round of weekly taxes, the Mayor had purchased a mechanical company worth R4 billion.
“This is corruption at the highest level!” a business leader bellowed. “You steal from us and call it governance!”
The already tense atmosphere snapped. Shouting turned to shoving, and shoving escalated into armed chaos. Within minutes, the White House — the very seat of power — was engulfed in violence.
Chairs were overturned.
Windows shattered.
Armed guards clashed with furious business leaders.
In the melee, the President attempted to flee but was captured and held hostage by the enraged executives. Demands were clear:
“Lower the tax to 13% or you will not walk out of here alive!”
Outside, chaos spread across the city. Fires were lit in protest, gunshots echoed in the distance, and strikes broke out as rumors of the President’s capture spread like wildfire. For thirty minutes, Los Santos teetered on the brink of civil war.
In a daring operation, the armed forces launched a counter-assault and managed to free the President from captivity. The siege ended in blood, smoke, and broken glass, but the nation’s leader survived.
By the end of the night, one outcome was certain:
Corporate tax reduced from 30% to 20%.
The President, exhausted but resolute, addressed the city after his rescue:
“You may threaten me. You may even try to silence me. But this city will not bow to chaos. We govern for the people — not for the powerful few.”
Though the streets are calm once again, the memory of the White House Siege will not fade easily. The corporate world has tasted defiance, and the government has been forced into compromise.
The question now looms:
Will this fragile truce hold?
Or is the city heading toward an even darker confrontation?
For now, the President remains in office, the business leaders have returned to their companies, and the city of Los Santos holds its breath.