Chapter 285: The Visit

Behind state visits often lie complex interests unknown to outsiders. For example, when the Prime Minister of Gephra visits the Baylor Federation, ordinary people see it simply as a consequence of the new president’s policies.

He responded to international demands, changed the federation’s previous isolationist stance, and began engaging with other countries. So visits like this became normal.

But behind this state visit lie complicated political and economic interests. For instance, the president promised to open two deep-sea ports in the federation’s southernmost and easternmost regions, establish free trade zones, and allow Gephran merchants free access to the federation with equal rights to federation citizens—including personal and property protection. This promise earned the state visit.

This visit, to some extent, confirmed the positive effects of the Progressive Party’s push for active international integration, reinforcing the idea that the chosen path was right and had already yielded results.

Most people only have a vague sense that a new era has arrived—nothing more.

Gephra’s invitation for a return visit also has many reasons. As one of the biggest victors of the war, Gephra’s gains were not as great as imagined.

They never occupied any enemy capital or captured any leaders. Instead, they wasted time, money, manpower, and precious lives along long battle lines.

In the end, their victory came not from breaking the enemy’s will but because the opponent simply ran out of money first and could no longer fight.

This was inevitably a costly war. Many in Gephra questioned why their emperor wasted so many resources on it, and even more why he invested heavily in developing a leased, non-permanent territory instead of domestic needs.

War masked some conflicts, but its gains could not satisfy them. These tensions would eventually resurface. If the emperor could prove his actions brought people respect and benefits, the problems could be resolved.

Baylor Federation’s visit showed respect to the Gephran emperor and people. Opening the ports gave Gephran merchants a new market to sell goods, which would endear their emperor to the public rather than invite doubts.

Overall, it was a complex issue. For governors, whether to join or not required careful consideration. Factional disputes within the Progressive Party were intensifying.

Radicals kept organizing salons, secret meetings, and events, promoting their theory that only by demonstrating the federation’s strength internationally could it gain equality and respect.

In this uncertain era, many seemed drawn to radical ideas, possibly as a revenge against past conservatism and wasted years of absurd policies. The more conservative they had been, the more radical they now were.

The upcoming election, less than two years away—more precisely, one year and ten months—seemed favorable for the current president, but the radicals were not ready to give up.

They picked a candidate to challenge the incumbent in the party before the internal primary between this year and early next year.

Then, in the general election, this new Progressive candidate would officially run against the Conservative Party, effectively playing a supporting role.

That seemed fine—unless people actually voted for the supporting candidate.

The invitation to Gephra’s state visit was the current president’s doing. Joining the delegation would label a governor as moderate. Though politicians at his level didn’t care much and could defy presidential orders, avoiding trouble was preferable.

Edwin sighed lightly. No one expected the Progressive Party’s internal situation to become so complicated so suddenly. External pressures had once made these conflicts seem insignificant, but now they had grown into a blaze.

“I’ll discuss with others and help you later, but first I need to finish what’s on hand,” he said, eyes fixed on the list. The governor nodded in agreement.

Edwin originally wanted to invite Lynch to the state capital, but before he could speak, Lynch was already there. Lynch’s main purpose was to attend an industry meeting.

Lynch manages an all-female rugby team, which has recently gained TV exposure and high ratings. Surrounding cities and other states were clamoring for more coverage.

Previously, a TV station tried to cheaply buy the broadcasting rights but failed. They then asked the Sports Federation to negotiate. Unexpectedly, Lynch passed the task to the Women’s Rights Association.

The feminists had long coveted the broadcasting revenue. With the first female professional team and wide social attention, they refused to hand over the opportunity to the Sports Federation.

Both organizations were strong and unwilling to yield, dragging the issue on even while Lynch was away. They each believed they deserved exclusive profits.

Only recently was there a breakthrough. What allowed them to finally discuss previously untouchable principles was the emergence of a women’s rugby professional league.

This league required little technical complexity. If someone was willing to support the players with salaries and provide a venue, organizing matches was easy.

The league was connected to Lynch. A foreigner, Earl Kazril showed interest in female professional sports. After consulting Lynch, he founded two teams.

Soon unsatisfied playing alone, he called friends—including Lynch and the Fox family—to create a competition, personally offering around 200,000 Federation Sols as prize money.

There were only six teams total. Despite its amateurish nature, the league unsettled the Sports Federation and feminists.

They knew better than Earl Kazril what it meant if this league became routine—it would strip them of their benefits.

At this critical moment, previously untouchable principles were negotiable.

They invited Lynch, the Fox family, Earl Kazril, and owners of two other teams to a meeting that would set standards for women’s professional sports.

No matter how good the product, only when consumed is it truly valuable. Both sides understood this and put aside differences to secure their interests first.

When Lynch arrived at the capital and stepped out of the station, someone greeted him.

A luxury car stood nearby with a professional driver holding a sign clearly displaying Lynch’s name.

This was Ms. Tracy’s arranged car. Tonight, Lynch would dine at her home with her family.

Tracy wanted to introduce her family to Lynch, signaling her affirmation and hope for their friendship. Lynch gladly accepted the invitation.

The capital of York State had about three million people and was once a source of pride. Now…

As the car slowly pulled away from the bustling station, the city’s desolation became clear.

The streets were filled with people in worn coats, thin and hunched, hands in pockets, heads bowed as if burdened by unseen weight.

There were no sounds of joy or pride typical of a metropolis—only heavier burdens than smaller cities.

When the city thrived, all enjoyed its conveniences; now, in decline, everyone bore heavier burdens.

Passing several supply points, the city resembled Sabin in some ways: long queues of people clutching food vouchers, cautiously waiting to receive small packages.

Unlike Sabin’s liquid food, here the packages appeared solid. Lynch asked the driver what it was.

The driver humbly explained, “Mr. Lynch, it’s a powder. Mixed with water and boiled, it becomes a thick stew. Add tomatoes, potatoes, onions, mushrooms, and it tastes quite good.”

Lynch smiled, nodding at the apt description.

Soon the car arrived at Ms. Tracy’s residence…