“I’ll have one too…”

After Mr. Truman added a cup, he and Lynch walked into his office. The State Department hadn’t been fully established yet—it would only become fully functional after the president’s official victory.

There were many unwritten rules within the federal government. The current president wasn’t president because he won an election; he became president by stepping in after the previous one resigned.

So, he didn’t yet have the power to reshape the federal government’s structure.

This wasn’t to say he was a fake president—just that this was the way things worked, an unspoken rule.

All the top federal officials came from the previous president’s administration. They, or the forces behind them, had heavily invested during the last election, and now their power was their due reward.

Simply put, these political opportunists were enjoying the benefits of their gamble’s success. Until this dividend period ended, no one could easily interfere with their privileges.

Otherwise, it would mean defying these rules.

Today the Progressive Party won, but the Conservative Party could win next time. To avoid unnecessary infighting, everyone followed this rule: don’t mess with others’ cheese.

Even after stepping down, the former president kept his cheese—his son was now a star diplomat.

If nothing unexpected happened, his son was likely to rise to an important position in the next four to eight years, poised for a major breakthrough.

That’s why the current president’s plan to have the State Department gradually replace the Foreign Ministry could pass Congress.

The former president’s son worked in this area, so he would benefit from the State Department’s rise.

With support from the former president and some conservatives, he might reach deputy minister level in eight years, and within sixteen to twenty-four years, aim for the presidency itself.

Politics was dirty because it was never clean. Every small change concealed countless compromises and interests.

Yet it was also clean—it helped many achieve their dreams and brought light to the world.

The somewhat cramped office didn’t show the grandeur of a future power center. Truman didn’t mind; he pulled over two chairs and sat with Lynch away from the window.

The presidential office had central temperature control, so it was cooler inside than outside, allowing officials to dress formally and comfortably.

Truman took out some documents from his drawer and handed them to Lynch. “Don’t ask me anything—just read it first.”

Lynch was puzzled but obeyed, flipping through the papers.

It was an introduction to new army and navy equipment specs, mostly army-related, including some not reported in the news.

Lynch studied carefully, memorizing important data before placing the file on the table. “You want me to leak this?”

Truman looked surprised but didn’t deny it. “About what you mentioned—I discussed it with the president. Just awarding you a medal because you invented some military gear wouldn’t make sense.”

He sat down next to Lynch and handed him a cigarette. Lighting theirs together, Truman flicked the match and said, “If we gave medals just for inventions, we’d have to hand out dozens or hundreds every year.”

“You have to accomplish more.”

“You have no say in domestic policy.”

“Even less in the military, and with no wars now, there’s no chance to prove yourself.”

“It’s like that everywhere. No matter how well you do, the public thinks you’re still a bit short. So, I came up with an idea.”

He stopped speaking as someone knocked on the door. After a reply, Katherine entered with a tray.

After both thanked her and watched her leave, Truman sipped his coffee. “Remember the joint military exercises when the Gephra submarines outpaced our expectations?”

Lynch nodded, recalling it well. Many said the federation lost morale because it was a project they least expected to lose.

Shepford Marine’s stock plummeted that day. If they hadn’t quickly released second-generation submarine specs and the defense ministry hadn’t increased funding, the shareholders would’ve suffered badly.

That event was unforgettable.

“We, several security agencies including intelligence and strategic command, studied it. We think a previous unintentional plan played a key role.”

“We once leaked the federation’s submarine specs…” Lynch vaguely remembered being involved.

Truman put down his coffee. “The specs we leaked matched exactly the performance the Gephra subs showed.”

“Simply put, they trusted our fabricated specs as real and poured massive funds into catching up with those false numbers.”

“That explains their performance in the exercises—they paid a heavy price.”

“We came to an interesting conclusion: since they believe our data, why not keep leaking some specs to them?”

A faint smile appeared on Truman’s face. “You know what I mean!”

Lynch nodded again. “To instill fear.”

Truman looked momentarily confused but then his scalp tingled slightly. He tapped Lynch’s shoulder. “You hit it exactly—more accurately than I imagined. Fear—that’s the right word…”

Yes, to instill fear. If all federation equipment outperformed Gephra’s, what would happen?

Fear.

The Gephra people, from the emperor to a homeless man, would fear because their military power—their lifeline—would be completely outmatched by the federation that already punched them hard.

Some people wield terrifying weapons but don’t inspire fear because they don’t dare start wars or use those weapons.

The stronger they appear, the weaker they really are.

But some dare to use their weapons and start wars. If they possess advanced weapons, that’s a nightmare.

The federation is such a people—they dare to act.

To reduce fear and gain security, the best way is to strengthen themselves and surpass Gephra in weapon performance.

“As for why I showed you so many new army weapons…”

They exchanged a glance and chuckled softly.

“I’ve heard it said that smart people have dirty minds,” Lynch said, crossing his legs and flicking ash from his cigarette.

Truman wasn’t offended; instead, he replied, “I think you’re talking about yourself. You’re one of the smartest people I’ve ever met!”

They laughed again.

Why focus on army equipment instead of navy? It’s simple: during the joint military exercises, Gephra’s weakness was exposed—their army would collapse without reform.

Their navy wasn’t in bad shape. The deterrent effect of their submarines had revitalized their fleet. The only real problem was the army.

Both the army minister and defense minister had publicly stated the need to strengthen the army, at least to a respectable second-tier world level.

There are many ways to quickly improve an army. Besides intensive training and actual combat, the simplest and most effective is upgrading equipment.

Gephra’s railway gun revealed their strategic thinking. But before others could catch up, its design flaws showed—without railways, it was useless.

This showed Gephra was investing in army equipment development and would increase funding for it. So, if Lynch accidentally leaked some ambiguous or false data now, what would happen?

After discussion, several departments concluded Gephra would likely trust these false federation parameters again and pour money into a bottomless pit.

This would worsen Gephra’s already weak economy and multiply their problems.

As for any real results from following those specs?

They wouldn’t be worth much. Army equipment performance isn’t always better with bigger numbers.

In defensive war situations, large-caliber coastal guns deter many warships.

But on offense, higher specs mean heavier logistics and slower advances—wasting opportunities.

Plus, Gephra’s outdated, incompetent officers and troops couldn’t form an effective fighting force. If training and combat experience alone made an army strong, Gephra’s would be invincible given their long war history.

But the truth was—they were useless.

“That’s your job: find a way to leak this information during the exercise. When you return and we achieve results in aircraft development, we’ll award you a medal!”