Chapter 331: Shifting the Blame First

“Hold off for now…”

Mr. Truman, standing in a corner of the hall, saw the deputy’s helplessness and smiled slightly, raising his hand to stop the two agents beside him from taking action.

After Lynch told him about the situation, Truman had already contacted the Security Committee. In just one afternoon, many committee agents had been gathered, all ready to follow Truman’s orders.

Truman wasn’t a typical politician. With extensive military experience and a family legacy of military service, he had deep connections within the armed forces.

Most members of the Baylor Federation’s National Security Council come from the military elite. This council handles domestic and foreign threats to the federation’s security.

Thanks to Truman’s background, even though he was no longer in active service, the military still considered him one of their own. The Security Council, closely tied to the military, naturally treated him as an insider.

As a leading figure among the military’s hardliners, many saw Truman as the person who could change the current state of the federation’s armed forces. He was their greatest hope.

For years, the conservative party dominated, campaigning on cutting military spending, budgets, and active personnel, a stance widely popular with the public.

During that era, the military became a symbol of evil and fear. Criticism of the military was always well-received.

The military had been oppressed for so long that they would never let this chance slip by.

He stopped the agents from clearing the scene and glanced at Lynch. They had been discussing Nagaryll affairs before the sudden disruption, but Truman was not anxious.

Lynch didn’t foolishly ask what would happen if they didn’t stop the crowd immediately or suggest any naïve solutions.

No matter what happened, the main person responsible for this reception was the Foreign Ministry’s First Secretary—and he would take the blame.

And since he didn’t get along with Truman, the latter had no reason to clean up his mess promptly.

He would wait. Only when the situation worsened would he act. That way, he’d appear important, and by contrast, the deputy minister would look utterly incompetent.

The protesters lying in pools of blood shouted slogans that made Lynch shake his head.

Truman noticed the slight movement. “Soft-hearted?” he asked with a smile. “But I don’t think you’re the type.”

“Only farmers worry about a newborn calf destined for slaughter. People like us lost the right to be soft-hearted long ago,” Lynch replied, shaking his head. “I just feel these sacrifices are pointless.”

He looked at Truman. “Sacrifice is the most direct way to change reality, but you need a plan first—not blind sacrifice.”

“Blind sacrifice isn’t sacrifice—it’s just stupidity.”

His tone was mocking. Standing at the edge of the crowd, his smile was oddly disarming, yet somehow strange. “Besides, this isn’t even sacrifice. It’s a bunch of fools being used.”

The Baylor Federation was widely seen as very free, but that was only partly true. Both government and corporations thoroughly vetted anyone rising to mid or high levels.

The reason was simple: to avoid sabotage from rivals and ensure loyalty.

It seemed unbelievable that a supposedly free federation played these games, but it was the harsh reality most lower-class citizens didn’t understand.

For example, during a past presidential election, a popular candidate was expected to win by a landslide.

His opponent was a comedian—not a good candidate, though actors had become presidents before.

During the campaign, damaging rumors surfaced about the comedian—claims he was gay, severely depressed, heavily medicated.

No one believed he could win, but surprisingly, he did.

Some called his victory a miracle. The lower classes rejoiced, loving his comedic performances.

In reality, his win wasn’t from popular support but because the favored candidate’s background was problematic.

His father was a former high official who opposed rampant capitalism alongside a one-term president who was ousted.

The favored candidate was suddenly targeted by corporate interests with vote-buying and bribery, scandals quickly covered up.

A politician poised to be president was abandoned by the elite due to his father’s politics.

This happened repeatedly. Capitalists knew how to divert the public’s attention from why they lost to miraculous victories.

People wanted to believe in good outcomes and gave up digging into failures. Those able to investigate were often part of the miracle themselves and wouldn’t expose it.

Truth is buried deep in history’s sediments. Just because people don’t see it doesn’t mean it’s gone.

The protesters outside were now marked with a red stamp on their files. If the federation’s mainstream government didn’t change and the global order stayed the same, these people and their descendants would remain at society’s bottom forever.

The middle and upper classes had already abandoned them without their knowledge. They wouldn’t be remembered as martyrs or heroes.

Only occasional mentions of failures… Lynch glanced at the deputy minister beginning to clear the crowd—people would criticize his stupidity while only briefly noting the even bigger fools.

The deputy minister was ordering the crowd out, but the police were clearly a problem. They weren’t maintaining order—they were destroying the atmosphere.

No matter the deputy minister’s requests or his status, these officers publicly beat the protesters, even in front of the Nagaryll diplomatic delegation.

The protesters, bleeding and covered in glass shards, looked terrifying. Some timid women screamed and collapsed into their companions’ arms.

The scene spiraled out of control. The temporary Speaker suddenly turned to Truman, who knew it was his turn to act.

Truman actually thought to wait a bit longer for the deputy minister to embarrass himself further, but the Speaker had other ideas.

“What will you do?” Truman looked away from the Speaker and asked Lynch.

Lynch sipped his champagne. Though champagne’s sweetness suited ladies better, the deputy minister had insisted on light alcohol for the reception. The hotel couldn’t serve cheap fruit wine at such an important dinner, so champagne it was.

Feeling the bubbles burst and the full aroma, he smiled faintly. “The grandeur of an empire.”

Mr. Truman paused, then turned to the two agents beside him. “The grandeur of an empire? I like that phrase…”

He whispered something to them. Lynch stepped aside to avoid involvement. The agents exchanged a glance and nodded. One raised his arm and gestured a few times. Several agents, previously unnoticed, stepped forward to intervene.

Truman himself approached the temporary Speaker to explain the sudden disturbance.

The chaos ended with a gunshot. The deputy minister stared grimly at Truman. “You actually ordered your men to open fire. You’ll be held responsible for what happened today!”

A shooting during a diplomatic event was a grave mistake, even if it was just a dinner, not a formal meeting.

Truman ignored him and addressed the crowd, “Ladies and gentlemen, please remain calm. Everything is under control…”

His tone was steady and soothing, calming the crowd.

“Those people are not from the federation, nor are they federal police. They’re members of an international criminal organization, hired by an international businessman named Preyton to sabotage the establishment of diplomatic relations between the Baylor Federation and the Kingdom of Nagaryll, to achieve their sinister goals…”

The Nagaryll delegation had been unhappy, ready to suspend the diplomatic event. The federation’s obvious hostility toward them was clear.

Since they had decided to reach out to other countries, they wouldn’t limit themselves to just one. If the federation and its people rejected them, they would find a place that welcomed them—they wouldn’t hang themselves on one tree.

But Truman’s words worked like magic, changing their thoughts about leaving.

Everyone watched him, waiting to see what he would say next.