Chapter 827: Talking Business in the Capitol

From a certain perspective, the lower and middle classes—those who should be protected by the state—have instead become the final line of defense on certain issues.

The extent to which capitalists have infiltrated the upper levels of the federal government is shocking. A mere thought, a single word from them can determine whether a bill passes. While they may not hold power in the traditional sense, capital stands far above power.

Ironically, it’s the capitalists and politicians who have to consider their public image, occasionally forced to conceal their true, fearsome faces.

The very people who were supposed to be protected have instead become the ones protecting this nation. Sometimes… life, society, and the world really are damn absurd.

The day after Lynch had dinner with Congressman Landon, members of the Duncan family’s lobbying group approached him.

They lobby every member of Congress they can—this is the key to their consistent success.

Many lobbying groups focus only on key figures—small bloc leaders or swing votes. They won’t waste effort on those they can’t sway or who aren’t strategically important.

Mainly, it’s a budget issue. With over a hundred members in Congress, even offering each a modest sum of twenty or thirty thousand Sol means spending millions.

Often, the people pushing the bill won’t even break even. They can’t afford reckless spending—they must be strategic.

Lobbying isn’t just about talking—it requires offering tangible benefits. If words alone worked, politicians and capitalists would’ve been replaced by lawyers long ago.

Congressman Landon had just arrived at his office when a visitor came. He instructed his secretary to let him in.

Every congressman has an office in the Capitol. They all have work—serving on committees, for example—which requires a place where others can find them during work hours.

Landon currently served on the Federal Environmental Committee—a body whose influence can be large or small.

At its broadest, any industrial operation constitutes environmental harm, thus falling under their purview.

At its narrowest, as long as the land isn’t so desolate that even the hardiest plant can’t grow, there’s no issue.

Naturally, people try to leverage the committee’s power. And to influence the committee, they need to influence its members.

Visiting a congressman at the Capitol is the simplest route.

To avoid constant interruptions, members hire sharp secretaries—people who know who should be let in, and who shouldn’t.

“Hello, Congressman Landon. I’m…” The visitor, in his forties, looked energetic and well-dressed, carrying a briefcase. He gave off the air of someone experienced.

He could easily be mistaken for a government official—though he lacked the typical bureaucratic laziness.

As Landon examined the business card, the man smiled and introduced himself. “Today I’m here on behalf of the Duncan family to discuss our proposal.”

Arrogance.

That was the first thing that hit Congressman Landon. The man’s overbearing demeanor was like a gust of wind, even rustling his hair.

Landon had dealt with lobbying groups before.

Last year, an old northern city planned to clear tens of thousands of acres of forest for urban development. Such a major decision couldn’t be handled locally and was escalated to the state, then to Congress.

Before the vote, local lobbyists emerged, armed with data and evidence proving that deforestation was crucial for the region’s economy.

Only at the end did they politely ask Landon to consider the struggling local economy and job-hungry citizens—while presenting him with gifts of local specialties from the grassroots.

It’s hard to define such behavior as outright corruption. Members of Congress can shield criminal acts and accept all sorts of “rewards” with little fear of investigation.

Eventually, Landon, feeling moved by the goodwill of the people, voted in favor of the proposal.

He had also spent a small amount to become a shareholder in an obviously shady little company, which was then acquired by a large corporation at a massively inflated price. Landon sold his shares and made a fortune.

Was it illegal? Everyone knew it was. There was enough circumstantial evidence to suggest he was bribed to support the proposal. Motive and connection were clear. He should be guilty.

But legally, his position was ambiguous. As a committee member, his job was just to vote. He wasn’t a key decision-maker.

In an 18-person vote, his individual choice didn’t sway the result. It wasn’t enough for a formal charge of abuse of office.

And since his profitable shareholding appeared to be a result of good judgment rather than a direct quid pro quo, it couldn’t be proven as part of the same incident.

So he took the money—and nothing happened. That’s how most congressmen operated.

But no matter how far they went, it was always within a certain range—like girls who publish photos of themselves in torn clothes seeking charity, but never admit they’re selling themselves.

They can do it—but they won’t admit it.

No lobbying group ever admits to influencing decisions. They claim they’re just offering more information and options.

No congressman ever admits to being paid off. Every vote is supposedly the result of personal judgment.

But this man from the Duncan family was different. He didn’t hide his purpose at all. From the moment he opened his mouth, he carried the aura of you will be convinced, which was deeply off-putting.

Landon looked at him. The man smiled slightly, clearly unfazed by a congressman’s displeasure.

“Have you read our proposal?” he asked, pulling out a chair and sitting across from Landon without being invited—legs crossed.

He placed his briefcase on the desk, snapped open both locks with two clicks, and pulled out a stack of documents.

Landon was inwardly furious. To be approached so rudely by someone he’d never even heard of was insulting.

People are like that—if it had been someone like Mr. Geruno treating him that way, or even worse, he wouldn’t have minded.

But to be disrespected by an unknown nobody? That was harder to tolerate.

And yet—he had to tolerate it. Because this man represented the Duncan family, the most terrifying known force in the Federation. No exceptions.

He nodded reluctantly. “Yes, I’ve read it…”

The man smiled in satisfaction. “Then, are there any parts of the proposal you found unclear or confusing? I can explain them for you.”

The middle-aged man looked up at Congressman Landon, wearing a confident smile.

If this had been a senator, the person sent to meet them would have been a former senator, ex-governor, or even a former president. And the meeting wouldn’t have taken place in the Capitol, but on a golf course, at an opera house, aboard a yacht, or on a private beach or island.

But Landon was just a congressman. From the perspective of either the Conservative or Progressive Party, replacing a congressman only takes one election or a minor incident—adjusting legislative strategy can easily filter some out.

Of course, that only happens if the interests at stake are worth the effort.

Landon shook his head. “There’s nothing I don’t understand.”

The man studied him for a moment longer, his smile vaguely irritating.

Then he picked up a business card and slid it across the table.

“Congressman Landon, I noticed you’re a member of the Environmental Committee, correct?” He fiddled with the nameplate on Landon’s desk, where the title Environmental Committee Member was clearly written beneath his name.

Landon nodded. The man continued, “Perfect. One of our companies has been having some trouble understanding federal environmental regulations. Perhaps you could assist us…”

Landon hadn’t even indicated support or opposition yet, but the man was already implying that backing the proposal would come with benefits.

Clearly, this was a consultancy arrangement—with substantial compensation.

And it was entirely legal. It avoided all the usual issues and required no actual action from Landon. Environmental consulting had nothing to do with the Overseas Security Act proposal. He could accept the money, report it, pay taxes on it, and spend it openly—no need for secrecy.

No one would connect the two matters. Except them.

Their lobbying strategy was tailored specifically to each person’s background and role.

Seeing Landon still hesitant, the man added warmly, “You know, Mr. Geruno is deeply concerned about environmental changes. We’re planning to set up a foundation…”

Landon hesitated no longer. He picked up the business card. “I’ve reviewed the proposal—it’s very reasonable. If it comes to a vote in Congress, I’ll absolutely support it.”

The man had nothing more to say. He stood up and extended his hand. After shaking hands with Congressman Landon, he said, “Pleasure doing business.”