Chapter 354: Once You Step Into This Circle, You Must Follow Its Rules

The Safety Committee’s investigation into the Healthy People Foundation was completely closed—perhaps the fastest investigation in history. Well, maybe not; some inquiries were stopped before they even began, and those were the quickest.

While the Healthy People Foundation’s deeper investigation was halted, probes into two other foundations continued without issue—one focused on observing fish species, the other on cataloging federal plants that bloom only in autumn.

Perhaps shaken by the setback with the medical group or inspired by new ideas, Truman grew more reserved and thoughtful than before.

At noon, Congressman Wales invited a well-known and active political broker in Eminence to his home. Wales had realized the gravity of the situation and needed help solving these problems.

The medical group’s successful pushback against Truman’s targeted investigation made Wales see that neither the president nor Truman were as strong as he’d imagined.

After all, the current president was only a mid-term president, whose cabinet included ministers with conflicting agendas and internal party struggles. Even within the Progressive Party, there were doubts about Truman’s continued candidacy and chances of winning.

Still, the president nominally held the highest federal authority, and Wales felt pressured.

So he invited a powerful friend, well-known within political circles but outside official politics—Mr. Elson.

Elson, a 71-year-old former vice president who served only one term, had been forced to resign after a scandal. Since then, he’d been active as a political broker in Eminence, respected by Conservatives, Progressives, and the low-profile Socialists alike. His good spirits kept him looking younger than his age.

Sitting at the table with old-school gentlemanly grace, Elson smiled, his salt-and-pepper eyebrows twitching. “Fifteen-year Bento,” he said warmly, referring to the bottle of red wine in his hand. “A fine vintage…”

Elson’s doctors warned him against strong alcohol, so he mainly drank red wine, except for occasional whiskey to ease insomnia.

Wales opened the wine and poured modest glasses for both. There was no pretentious wine tasting here—no exaggerated sniffing or swirling—just simple appreciation, like ordinary people.

Glasses clinked.

Elson laughed, “Hosting me with such good wine makes me feel a little nervous!” The deep red wine slowly slid down the glass walls.

Wales nodded. “Yes, I’ve run into trouble. Someone’s investigating two foundations I have shares in—used to be three…”

Elson knew why there were now only two. He was among those who had called the president, and a single call had earned him a signed letter of thanks.

Elson named the culprit directly: “Truman!” Then he picked up his knife and fork. “Sorry, the doctor said I can’t stay hungry too long…”

Wales gestured for him to eat and continued, “Yes, yes, Truman. They have concerns about some of my recent activities. I think we can resolve this through communication, and I’ve been waiting for them to reach out, but they…”

“Kurlik,” Elson interrupted abruptly.

Wales blinked. “Sorry, what was that?”

Elson swallowed his bite and wiped sauce from his lips. “I said Kurlik’s prime beef—due to the economy and environment, prime beef now costs about $170 a pound.”

He looked at Wales. “You’re a member of the highest federal authority, deciding the country’s future. You should focus on making sure everyone can afford this beef, not… power struggles.”

The remark was sharp, and Wales’s face flushed dark purple like raw liver, but he had to admit the truth.

Elson paused and shifted tone. “You mentioned communication—that’s a wonderful word. It brings people closer and helps solve problems peacefully.”

This was an impressive stance, though Elson didn’t think highly of Wales for various reasons, not least that at 71, he was free to do as he pleased.

Taking another bite and sipping his wine, Elson smiled. “Feeling better now… If you’re willing to step back, I can try to help.”

Wales hesitated. Professionally, he wanted to serve Preyton faithfully, but stepping back meant betraying Preyton’s interests. Money back wouldn’t fix it; he’d have to sacrifice more to cover the mistake.

He knew fighting on was risky and pointless. The opponent had already pushed for an official investigation, showing their resolve. Still, he was reluctant.

Elson remained silent, letting Wales wrestle with his decision. There was no perfect choice: either resist Truman and the president to the bitter end, or sacrifice some gains to end a needless conflict.

After finishing his meal, Elson finally interrupted. “Here’s my advice, Wales.” Wales snapped out of his thoughts and nodded eagerly like a respectful student.

“Our president lost the last election, wasting precious Progressive Party resources, so the party’s biased against him. But that doesn’t mean he has no chance.”

“Many, including me, are intrigued by his ideas—like making the federation take on more responsibility internationally. Of course, that draws hostility from foreign forces.”

“No one wants to see a strong federation rise. There are always spies disguised in legal covers trying to sabotage us from within. It’s normal.”

“They might steal our scientific breakthroughs, pilfer important formulas, kidnap our scientists, or even… divide our politicians.”

“Do you understand?”

Wales nodded repeatedly. “Yes, Mr. Elson. I understand. I know what to do now…”

“Very well, thank you for your hospitality. I’ll contact you when I have further updates,” Mr. Elson said, seeming ready to leave. Congressman Wales immediately moved to pull out his chair, but Elson declined.

Though seventy-one, he was still capable of sitting down and standing up on his own.

Later, just as Truman, summoned back by the president, was about to knock on the president’s office door, it opened from the inside.

The president and Mr. Elson were walking out together, both smiling warmly, clearly on good terms.

The president barely glanced at Truman before passing by; he needed to escort Elson out.

When the president returned, Truman was already waiting in his office.

The president sat down silently, thinking for a moment, then shook his head. “Stop the investigation into Congressman Wales. He’s surrendered.”

“Now we shift focus to the Gephra issue and redirect attention,” the president sighed. “Truman this is all thanks to you. You forced him to concede. I appreciate it.”

Truman’s expression was odd. He should have been pleased—this was their original goal: to silence Wales and halt his pointless alliances.

Yet, for some reason, he couldn’t feel happy. Still, he had to say, “It’s my honor, Mr. President.”