Chapter 264: Factional Struggles, Love, and Freedom

“Thank you so much for coming. It’s a relief,” the President said with a genuine smile. Some nearby assumed he had a good relationship with the Wadrick couple, which was true.

Mr. Wadrick appeared to be in his early forties, well-maintained, though he was actually fifty-one. His appearance and health were far younger than his age.

This was the benefit of wealth. The Wadricks enjoyed the best living conditions in the Federation.

They had personal nutritionists planning their meals, private fitness coaches maintaining their physical health, and the most advanced federal medical technology regularly checking and minimizing any health risks.

As someone once said, scientific progress was never truly for the common people. Throughout history, every technological advance served only a small elite.

The Wadrick family was part of that elite, which explained their youthful appearances, especially Mrs. Wadrick.

She was a dignified and elegant woman, dressed in a dark floor-length gown—graceful, poised, and beautiful. She resembled Severella about eighty percent, like a woman whose charm deepened with time, appearing no older than her early thirties.

“Though we may differ on some issues, our overall goals don’t conflict, so I will support you,” Mr. Wadrick stated plainly.

Big capitalists understood the value of international trade and capital exploitation. If the conservative President hadn’t blocked their access to global markets, fearing unpredictable political fallout, they would have already made their move internationally.

Now that the conservative dictator had been overthrown by these warriors, they were celebrating their victory atop his corpse.

But there were issues within the Progressive Party. The moderates and radicals were fiercely divided over who was right, a conflict that would affect the election two years from now.

The conservatives had no chance of returning. The Progressive Party would dominate for at least six years. The debate was whether policies should be more radical or moderate.

The radicals, mostly military officers, wanted to stand with the victorious nations, show the Federation’s military might, and gain international recognition through force.

The military had been stifled under conservative rule; now they saw a chance to act.

The moderates believed the newly integrated Baylor Federation should appear relatively harmless internationally. Though they would support the victors and help maintain peace, they shouldn’t be proactive in military ventures.

This division gave the radicals some advantage, thanks to strong support from top military officials.

These firebrands eagerly wanted to prove the Federation’s strength through military action, even talking about starting a new war.

Though reckless talk, it was a dangerous sign. If the Progressive Party’s presidential candidate lost in two years, the radicals might push their own candidate, which would be disastrous for the Federation.

Politics was like this: external enemies united everyone in deadly struggle. Once those enemies were gone, internal factions would split and fight until a new external threat forced unity again.

If Mr. Wadrick’s consortium supported the President’s reelection, it would greatly ease his pressure. This help came from two areas.

Votes—Wadrick’s consortium could deliver large numbers of votes, securing an early lead.

Funding—Every presidential campaign was a money-burning frenzy. The President’s posters had to flood every state, city, street, and even trash cans, featuring his gleaming, bright smile.

Why the shining teeth? Because the Federation’s largest dental care group, a major election supporter, had convinced the public to separate dental insurance from social insurance, creating a costly standalone plan.

Though this raised costs for most people, the public believed it meant better care. The state’s burden eased, the dental group profited hugely, and everyone thought they benefited—so no one objected.

In short, elections depended on capitalists. Without them, even a true politician was powerless.

With their support, even a clown, actor, or businessman could stand on the Federation’s brightest stage.

After a few whispered words, Lynch shook hands with the President and stepped aside as other important guests arrived.

People cleared a path for the Wadricks, who headed to the VIP lounge to rest and possibly change clothes. Mrs. Wadrick needed a more practical dress for the upcoming cocktail party—a privilege and burden of the elite.

Ordinary people didn’t need such effort to appear normal, but the elite risked rudeness if they didn’t.

Just as the Wadricks were about to leave, they paused, noticing Lynch and Severella standing nearby, her arm linked with his.

“Should I be surprised?” Mr. Wadrick smiled at his daughter but mainly scrutinized Lynch.

After a moment, he extended his hand. “Wadrick. May I know your name?”

Lynch shook his hand. “You can call me Lynch, Mr. Wadrick.”

He nodded politely to Severella’s mother, knowing it wasn’t proper to reach out unnecessarily.

“I thought my daughter would be home practicing the piece she can’t quite play yet, but I didn’t expect to find her here. Since you’re here, I hope you have a pleasant evening.”

Mr. Wadrick spoke warmly and kindly. Lynch’s impression was good; such ease was a skill the elite mastered.

“So, Lynch, and Ella, see you later?”

Lynch nodded, stepping aside with Severella. The Wadricks smiled and greeted others before quickly leaving.

They would reappear after the event started, but their brief stop had drawn attention to Lynch.

As Mr. Wadrick left the crowd, he sighed, “A young man, handsome too. I wish my son were like him, able to get by on looks alone. But I hope my daughter never meets someone like that—that would ruin everything.”

His wife smiled softly. “They do look good together.”

Mr. Wadrick remained silent. When they reached the private lounge, he sighed again. “You have to choose. Not everyone is as lucky as we are.”

He implied that in families like theirs, marriages weren’t truly their own choice. Their own marriage was a political alliance.

Power and wealth combined could produce brilliance, like Severella. But for her, that brilliance was fleeting. In recent years, they had begun searching for suitable marriage candidates for her.

Once chosen, Severella must fulfill her duty—she had enjoyed privileges denied to 95% of the world since birth, privileges her descendants might never have.

To keep these rights, she had obligations.

Love, marriage, freedom.

It might be cruel for a girl like Severella, but such people never realized that what they saw as suffering was something most of the world couldn’t even dream of.

Still, the girl had a choice: if she renounced everything, left with nothing, even her name, she could have everything she truly wanted.

It sounded simple, but in reality, over the past century, every young person who tried this ended up back on their knees, begging their family for forgiveness and agreeing to follow whatever the family chose for them.

Mr. Wadrick sat down in the room, then stood up again. He walked to the corner and picked up the phone, intending to investigate Lynch’s background to prepare for any unforeseen circumstances.