The head felt like it had been split open with an axe.

Truman slowly opened his eyes. In the darkness, he couldn't see much, only vaguely a ceiling.

The soft mattress beneath him gave him a sense of comfort. He liked soft beds, and this one was even better and more comfortable than the one at his home.

Memories from before he fell into a stupor quickly surged up. He abruptly sat up, followed by a sharp inhalation of breath.

The excessive movement caused a tearing pain in his head. He couldn't help but raise his hand to his forehead, squinting and taking a couple of deep breaths until the discomforting pain slightly subsided.

"I can't drink that much anymore...," he admonished himself. Everyone knows drinking is not only bad for the body but can also lead to unexpected incidents. Yet sometimes, emotions reach a point where it's hard to control.

Yesterday...?

He suddenly looked towards the bedside. In the fragmented memories that flashed like a dog's bite, he had really gone wild last night. Even thinking about it now made him blush a little.

Fortunately, he was alone in bed, without that girl, which made him sigh in relief.

Mr. Truman is a married man with a wife and children. For Federation politicians, establishing a stable family is an important reference factor if they wish to climb higher and faster, and it's something no one can avoid.

He may not necessarily love his wife. In this era, even for people with power, the word "love" is too heavy.

He may not truly be that fond of his wife, but he intends to maintain the relationship, feeling it's his responsibility.

He doesn't want to ruin things just because he drank too much. Fortunately, the worst did not happen.

In the dim light, he turned on the bedside lamp.

His watch and other items were placed on the bedside table. He picked up the watch to check; it was not yet five o'clock. He had been asleep for a night; the recent period had been truly exhausting. Yesterday's relaxation had both drained him and adjusted him back.

He didn't get up immediately but leaned back against the headboard, recalling some memories.

He thought of his conversation with Lynch. Lynch's ideal world seemed interesting and new to him, not a world a capitalist would desire.

Feeling his body had recovered from a bad state, he got up and went to the bathroom. As hot water flowed over him, he pondered what his ideal world truly looked like.

...

At nine-thirty in the morning, he appeared outside the President's office.

Today, Truman seemed a bit different. In people's previous impressions, he was a very stern person who rarely smiled, which made him seem difficult to approach, and somewhat severe.

But today, he always had a smile on his face, proactively greeting everyone who passed by. Though some found it a bit discomforting, it wasn't a bad thing; at least, he wasn't scolding people, right?

"Come in..."

After waiting outside the President's office for two minutes, he was summoned.

Upon entering the office, the President immediately came over, smiling, placing a gentle hand on his arm, "I heard something interesting, you know, about you."

His intent in speaking first was to prevent Mr. Truman from having the opportunity to speak first since he didn't know what Truman might say. Would he express himself in a rigid and standoffish manner as before? If so, everyone would feel awkward.

For the President, the importance of the Consortium is undeniable, and in the entire societal structure, they are also indispensable.

Many large social projects, regardless of type, can't be undertaken by ordinary organizations or individuals; only the Consortiums can shoulder such work.

The President was very clear that the Consortiums did indeed have some negative impacts on society, yet losing them was not an option.

Truman's ideas at times can make people find themselves in a dilemma. Everyone wishes for the Consortiums to become meek sheep, but is that possible?

Deprived of the chance to speak was Mr. Truman, who paused in confusion, "Me?" He suddenly became a bit tense, "What interesting thing?"

"Someone saw you at the Red High Heels...," said the President, adding, "the strip club you went to, you know that, right? Thankfully, we handled the aftermath quite well."

With that said, the President pursed his lips and smiled. The people in Bupen city care deeply about two things: money and politics.

Once, there was a survey conducted to find out which place in the Federation was the most sensitive to politics. They did so by handing out photos of twenty slightly-known to very well-known politicians in profile to those being surveyed, just to see how many they could recognize.

The West was considered the least politically aware region, while Bupen was the most politically attuned. Any passerby could recognize at least half of the politicians, which was quite remarkable.

This also meant people could spot him, watching him revel with the dancers.

Upon hearing this, Mr. Truman felt a bit embarrassed.

Fortunately, this was merely a rhetorical maneuver by the President to make him feel awkward and unable to express any strong words, hence using awkwardness to seal his tongue. The President patted Mr. Truman on the shoulder, "Why did you come to see me? I remember giving you a long vacation, you should enjoy relaxing, don't push yourself."

Some words can be spoken by some people, while others cannot. Mr. Truman cleared his throat lightly, sighed briefly, but soon a smile spread across his face again, "Mr. President, I came to apologize."

"Apologize?" The sudden "apology" left the President slightly perplexed. He mistakenly assumed Mr. Truman was apologizing for his appearance at the strip club last night.

Though maintaining the positive image of government officials is indeed important from one aspect, going to strip clubs is not a criminal act. The Federation allows such places to exist, and it is normal consumption, which is not wrong.

The President, empathic, patted his shoulder, "I can understand; there's no need to apologize. Men sometimes really need to relax...," he leaned in close to Truman's subordinate, whispering, "Actually, there were times I used to go too."

Truman: ???

He snapped back to his senses, suddenly realizing, "I'm not apologizing for that; I'm apologizing for yelling at you before. I shouldn't have done that. I deeply regret doing a foolish thing."

When the President announced a vacation for him, he yelled at him right in that office. People feel the world betrays them when they're hurt, and he was no exception.

He felt if the President could stand by his side, then without a doubt, he could withstand the pressure from the Consortium's side. He said the President was weak for compromising just for the sake of winning the election; those words were indeed quite excessive.

Today, he came to apologize for those words.

The President was very surprised; he didn't expect Truman to apologize. He knew this subordinate very well—having a military background, he was tough, so sometimes he would say rather rough things, which the President wouldn't take to heart.

He never apologized before, but this time, he did. This left the President with a small surprise, also a bit unexpected, "Are you trying to scare me?"

"Scare?" Mr. Truman was taken aback for a moment, and quickly shook his head, "No, I also want to apologize for the things I did before..."

If someone is willing to apologize, it means more things can be communicated. In front of the President, he apologized for all the "mistakes" he had made and clearly understood that winning the election and the stability of the domestic social structure surpasses everything.

This perspective aligns well with the President's view, especially regarding the issue of winning the election, which is at the core of the Presidential interest group.

"I'm glad you were able to understand these issues. I also know the issues you mentioned indeed need to be addressed for us. But to solve these issues, we must have power."

"Without power, aside from expressing opinions that nobody cares about on television like a clown and attacking equally downtrodden political opponents, we can do nothing."

"Truman, we don't have money, we can't directly confront those Consortiums. What we can rely on is power; only by firmly grasping power can the things you have in mind be realized one day!"

After receiving positive feedback, the President also slightly expressed his stance. He had a good grasp of things, and these words indeed resonated with Mr. Truman, especially on the matter of power.

With power, one can realize one's ideals and ambitions.

Without power, the only thing one can do is decay in a sofa in front of the TV with junk food.

Some people study tirelessly for decades for a bright future. Well, now it's time for him to "study." He must sheath his edges that could harm others and blend in with these people until he truly grasps power—the real power.

"Mr. President, my recklessness and impulsiveness have brought a lot of trouble to our forthcoming work. I would like...," he said, pausing slightly, with a rather unpleasant smile on his face, "I would like to express my apologies to those people. What do you think?"

By "those people," he meant the senior figures of the Consortium whose interests had been affected by his actions. They struck back, and he expressed capitulation, resolving conflicts before they completely fell out, making everyone happy.

The President showed a surprised expression but quickly turned it into joy, "You don't have to force yourself..."

"I am not forcing myself. One must repent for the mistakes they have committed. I realized my mistake, and I must acknowledge it."

The President patted his shoulder, "Are you really not forcing yourself?" After receiving Mr. Truman's affirmative response, he nodded, "I will arrange it for you, please trust me, I will definitely not make things difficult for you..."

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