"The situation isn’t quite as we imagined..."
In the Conservative Party office building, not too far from the President’s Mansion, mbers of the Conservative Party Committee are also watching the vote counting process.
The Conservative Party’s Senate candidate, dubbed "the dumbest candidate in thirty years," sits quietly in his chair, watching the screen, the excitent in his eyes betraying his calm expression.
Politics is sotis cruel because you know it doesn’t benefit you, yet you must act for a higher group’s interest, not your own.
Being called the dumbest candidate in thirty years isn’t pleasant, but it’s his job.
Only by accepting this role and playing the clown in front of dia and society can he secure his seat.
Soone once said, as long as you have ideals and persistence, you can have the power to change this country!
But look at Congress now, how many non-partisan mbers are there?
Five in total, and always five, not more, not less.
Their existence isn’t about ideals becoming reality but rely a reflection of the Federation’s demand for "fairness."
Their main role is to vote against when everyone votes for.
To vote for when everyone votes against.
When agreent and opposition create a "confrontation," they abstain.
Yes, this is their job, and it’s not free at all.
Their existence is precisely to show the Federation’s loose political environnt and lack of strict barriers between social classes.
Just everyone knows, securing a position in Congress relies heavily on party support, with the Federation’s two major parties being the strongest. As for the Socialist Party?
Sotis their existence or non-existence doesn’t add much value or aning to society, perhaps when they’re present, people believe politics is also free and fair.
Maybe...
Following the higher-ups, the Conservative Party will fully support this dumbest candidate to secure his Senator position, as long as he holds this position, annually hundreds of thousands to millions in dividends will be credited to his account.
So what if he’s dumb? At least he has more money than ninety-five percent of people in the Federation!
Yet, he never thought he’d have a chance at getting that position, as soone dood to lose from the start.
Even though he knows it’s impossible, at this mont, his heart still races.
He feigns restraint, latter indifference.
He sits in the corner, his hand supporting his chin, eyes fixated on the TV screen showing the vote counters’ hands, as if a miracle has begun to show its brilliance.
The chairman of the Conservative Party Committee frowned, stood up, left the eting room, and went to his office.
He picked up the phone, dialed a number, exchanged a few trivial words, then hung up.
Upon returning to the eting room, he sat back down, "I asked, no surprises will happen, nor is there a surprise to happen."
The room returned to its quiet atmosphere, with eyes tightly glued to the small TV screen, as if it held a rare human-world treasure.
When the vote counters announced the results, with the Progressive Party securing another state, strangely, the Conservatives in the eting room breathed a sigh of relief.
Such an outco exceeded their expectations, initially believing isolationism’s failure would push the Conservatives to the social opposite, but surprisingly, things seem alright now.
"Progressive Party just two states away from securing victory..."
At this mont, the Progressive Party finally showed a winning trend, relaxing the chairman’s facial muscles, making his expression more gentle, less tense than before.
The thirty-year rare dumb candidate beside him felt a bit lost, turned his head to glance at fellow colleagues, and seeing their relieved smiles due to "no surprises" bred so discontent, quickly hiding the slight dissatisfaction in his eyes.
He’s only destined to be a Senator; he knows this well, as no one would truly fund his presidential run, nor would the committee approve.
That fleeting mont of excitent was like a dream, a dream with forgotten deeds, leaving just trace marks, lancholic traces.
The whole nation seed silenced by the tense battle.
At this point, nothing done will matter anymore,
not only politicians anxiously awaiting election results, but the President’s backers are also eagerly awaiting.
They invested billions in Mr. President, if he loses now, it ans everyone’s investnt will go down the drain.
Mr. President will leave politics entirely, as no capitalist would invest a penny in him again.
Every election is a gamble. In previous years, without a tacit agreent, the capitalists behind both presidential candidates often gambled by throwing in hundreds of millions, even billions, of funds.
The winner, in four years, can recover costs and even start making profits, and in another four years, they can multiply their returns.
The loser can only lick their wounds and wait for the next opportunity.
In the dull and uneasy silence, the Progressive Party secured another state.
The President’s expression in the eting room of the President’s Mansion softened a lot. He high-fived or hugged each staff mber around him just like before.
With his hands clasped under his chin, he appeared to be a devout believer. Before becoming President, when he was Vice President, he often appeared in church.
He frequently appeared in public with a priest or a shepherd, and in people’s eyes, he seed to be a qualified believer.
But only he knew that he didn’t believe in the Lord at all. All his behavior was just to gain enough votes from believers; he needed these people on his side.
At the sa ti, the awkward position of the Vice President made it impossible for him to stay in the President’s Mansion like a fool.
The Federation’s political atmosphere is actually quite "harmonious," where the winner becos the President, and the loser becos the Vice President.
However, traditionally the Vice President doesn’t work in the President’s Mansion; it would be too stifling.
After years of being a fool, an idiot, a believer, and silently putting in so much effort, it was ti for payback.
At this mont, he firmly believed that there were gods in this world and prayed that they wouldn’t tornt him anymore and would end this election soon!
Never before had he so earnestly and spontaneously prayed, nor had he ever awaited the Lord’s response so devoutly.
Perhaps his piety moved the Lord, or maybe the Lord felt that a presidential believer would better spread His faith in this country, so the Lord responded to him.
The stalemate didn’t continue, and the Progressive Party candidate, the President, directly secured the election result with at least a three-vote lead.
Although the counting continued, Progressive Party officials nationwide started celebrating.
The Progressive Party’s presidential victory was great news for all politicians within the Progressive Party system.
This ant they would have more generous budgets, easier approval for their policies, quicker promotions, and more support from capitalists.
The President punched the air a few tis. He began hugging each staffer, not even sparing the cleaning staff.
Embraces and a simple "thank you" were enough to express his excitent at this mont.
Everyone in the eting room breathed a sigh of relief, and then the phone rang. The President was sowhat surprised but not entirely unexpected.
He picked up the phone, answered a few tis, and then put it down, "Chairman Fei Qi of the committee called to congratulate on my election victory..."
What followed were calls from all over the country, even the world.
Governors, the Senate, heads of various departnts, and even Emperor Gafura made a pretense of calling to congratulate the President.
So found that it was almost impossible to get through to the President’s Mansion by phone that day; any call would et a busy tone because everyone wanted to leave a deep impression on the President.
By the ti everything was handled, it was already past six in the evening.
Everyone had been busy for a whole day and could finally relax a little.
Lynch stood next to the President, and after expressing his thoughts, the President paused for a mont before smiling.
He patted Lynch on the arm, "You always have a comprehensive view..." he said, walking to the front of the crowd and clapping his hands, drawing everyone’s attention.
"Mr. Lynch just told he already booked the third-floor hall of Bupen Grand Hotel, and the chefs have sent a sumptuous dinner there, waiting for us."
He specifically pointed out, "Of course, this is not a celebration ceremony, just a dinner. Sincere thanks to Mr. Lynch’s generosity; I agreed on everyone’s behalf."
"You can call your family, or co with us; the bus is on its way..."
Mr. Truman glanced at Lynch, who was quietly standing beside the President, thinking that if it were ancient tis, Lynch would surely be a flatterer and a petty person!
Lynch sensed his gaze and instinctively looked back at him.
They exchanged glances briefly, nodded, and smiled at each other.
As for what they were thinking inside, only they knew.
Amidst the cheers of the staff, the President and everyone boarded the vehicle heading towards the hotel.
All major television stations reported the election results, and Congress was urgently verifying the final outco.
The Conservative Party, which liked to jump out and pick on the Progressive Party in the past, seed to have accepted the fairness and legitimacy of the election this ti, not questioning any vote fraud, and everything was particularly harmonious...
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