Building a Conglomerate in Another World-Chapter 241: Start of the Campaign

March 1, 1897.

Philadelphia, Amerathia

The air was crisp and cold, the streets alive with banners, the hum of conversation, and the restless anticipation of a major speech. Philadelphia was just the first stop in what would be a grueling campaign, but Matthew Hesh knew that every word he spoke tonight would define the battle ahead.

Thousands had gathered outside the governor’s mansion, the main square packed with citizens from all walks of life—factory workers, soldiers, small business owners, farmers, and families with children wrapped in wool coats. They were here for one reason—to see the man who had stopped a war, the man who had taken on Washington’s corruption, the man who now sought another four years in office.

Standing at the side of the stage, Matthew adjusted the cuffs of his coat, his expression calm despite the weight of the moment. Beside him, Amber placed a reassuring hand on his arm. She had been his closest confidant throughout this presidency, and today, she wasn’t just the First Lady—she was his greatest ally.

"You’re ready," she said softly.

Matthew exhaled. "I have to be."

"You always are."

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A staff member approached, nodding. "It’s time, Mr. President."

"A Nation Worth Fighting For"

The cheers erupted before Matthew even reached the podium. The sound was deafening, a sea of Amerathian flags waving in the cold winter air. The roar of the people was both exhilarating and sobering.

He stepped forward, raising a hand. The noise settled, replaced by an expectant silence.

"My fellow Amerathians," he began, his voice strong, unwavering. "Four years ago, you entrusted me with the greatest responsibility in this nation—to serve as your President. It has been the greatest honor of my life."

The crowd erupted again, forcing Matthew to pause. When the noise died down, he continued.

"When I took office, this country stood at the brink of corruption. Powerful men in Washington believed they could do whatever they pleased—lie, cheat, steal, and send Amerathian sons to die for their own ambitions."

He let that settle. The tension in the crowd shifted. They had lived through those months. They had seen the arrests.

"I stood before you then and made a promise. A promise to stop the war they were trying to force upon us. A promise to dismantle corruption. A promise to rebuild Amerathia not for the wealthy, not for the powerful, but for the people."

A cheer erupted, but Matthew held up a hand, commanding attention.

"And I kept that promise."

His Achievements

"In four years, we have:

Crushed the corruption that threatened our democracy.

Increased wages for hardworking Amerathians.

Rebuilt our military into a force of defense, not a tool for conquest.

Invested in infrastructure, education, and industry—creating jobs, paving roads, and ensuring a future for our children.

Protected the working class from the exploitation of the elite.

These are not words. These are actions. This is what we built together."

The crowd’s cheers thundered through the city square.

"But my friends," Matthew continued, his expression serious, "our work is far from over."

And now, for the vision of the future.

"I stand before you today, not just to ask for your vote, but to ask for your trust."

The crowd quieted.

"There are those who want to take us backward. Those who say Amerathia should have gone to war. Those who say we should have expanded, conquered, dominated. They speak of ’strength’—but what they really mean is power, not for the people, but for themselves."

A murmur rippled through the crowd.

"They believe Amerathia is meant to rule through force. But I ask you, is that who we are?"

A resounding ’No!’ filled the air.

Matthew nodded. "No. Amerathia is strongest when it stands united. When it stands for its people. And that is why I stand before you today, because I am not finished fighting for you."

A pause.

Then, with conviction, he declared:

"I am officially running for reelection as President of Amerathia."

The roar from the crowd was deafening.

Flags waved, hats were thrown in the air, people cheered until their voices cracked from excitement.

Behind the Scenes – The Private Battle Begins

Hours later, after handshakes, meetings with local leaders, and conversations with supporters, Matthew finally found himself alone with Amber in their private quarters at the governor’s mansion.

She sat on the edge of the bed, slipping off her gloves, watching him with a knowing look.

"You did well," she said softly.

Matthew exhaled. "It’s only the beginning."

Amber studied him, then walked over, placing her hands on his shoulders. "You always say that. But I can see it, Matt. You’re carrying more than just a campaign on your back."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Because I know what’s coming."

"Royce."

Matthew’s expression hardened. "He’s dangerous, Amber. More dangerous than Bradford ever was. He’s not just a politician—he’s a symbol for those who want Amerathia to become an empire. If he wins… everything we built will fall apart."

Amber tightened her grip on him. "Then we make sure he doesn’t win."

"It won’t be that easy," Matthew admitted. "The Order… I can feel them. They’re pulling the strings. We don’t know how deep their influence runs. If they get their hands on the election…"

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Amber met his gaze, her voice unwavering. "Then we fight back. Harder than before."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "You’re more ready for this than I am."

Amber smirked. "Always have been."

He cupped her cheek, brushing a thumb against her skin. "We’ll be on the road for months. You and Arthur, the baby… traveling like this isn’t easy."

Amber shrugged. "Neither is being President, but here you are."

Matthew laughed, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

Outside, the battle for Amerathia had begun.

But inside, in this quiet moment, Matthew reminded himself of why he was fighting.

For his family.

For the people.

For a future worth believing in.

Meanwhile, the opposition was watching, and they too would start to clash against Hesh in the campaign period.