Chapter 894: It’s All for Work

While the Defense Ministry and military representatives waited for Lynch to wake up, Congressman Landon was already inside the Capitol.

He was waiting for a senator, an important member of the Military Appropriations Committee.

Lynch’s funding request was stuck here. Even though the President had used his privilege to approve funds, Congress was still holding it up.

The President’s privilege is just that—privilege. If it could easily override all congressional committees, those committees wouldn’t need to exist.

Moreover, funds approved by presidential privilege still have to be reviewed by a separate committee for content.

Only funds that pass this review are valid.

If deemed inappropriate, the scope of the President’s fiscal privileges would be reduced the next year.

Many countries find the federal system’s rules… hard to describe.

Being President here is miserable, because even after becoming President, many people and institutions can constrain you.

Congress is a prime example, as are party committees and leaders. These all influence the President’s power, which is why many think being President here is meaningless.

What they don’t realize is that sometimes the goal of being President isn’t power—it’s money.

Like Congressman Landon, who, despite being a House member, was doing work unrelated to his official duties.

“…Senator!”

Within moments, he spotted a core member of the Military Appropriations Committee and hurried over.

The senator didn’t even pause to shake his hand, though he didn’t show it bluntly.

“Sorry, I can’t spare a hand now,” the senator said, holding a briefcase in his left hand and a coffee cup in his right—no free hand to shake.

“That’s fine… Senator, I’d like to talk to you,” Landon followed closely as the senator kept walking briskly toward the elevator.

Senators and representatives… you can’t say there’s a clear class difference, but senators wield more power.

Power sorts people and assigns labels. Compared to representatives, senators are a bit more important—

No president in the three-hundred-year history of the federation has ever come from the House of Representatives, which proves who’s above and who’s below.

People inside the elevator saw the senator coming, held the door open, smiled, greeted him, and waited for him to enter.

The elevator was cramped, not a good place for sensitive conversations.

After a few stops, Landon left the elevator with the senator.

This was the upper level of the Capitol, where only senators had offices.

“Senator, about the funding I mentioned last time…”

“You mean for those planes?” the senator asked casually while walking.

Landon nodded.

The senator smiled, handed Landon his coffee and briefcase at a door, took out a key, and opened it.

People once thought that with so many members of Congress, each having three to five secretaries, there would be hundreds or even thousands of secretaries serving them all.

That was shameless waste of taxpayers’ money and a national disgrace!

So, under public pressure, the Capitol adopted a shared secretary system: one secretary office per floor with ten secretaries handling all daily tasks for that floor’s members.

Obviously nonsense. Members deal with many confidential documents in various fields. They can’t hand these tasks to public secretaries, so many just don’t use secretaries.

The secretary office was there with its ten staff, whose daily work was cleaning and, if needed, fetching takeout—there was no coffee room in the Capitol.

If they didn’t want bad coffee, they had to order delivery.

This inconvenience was why many members disliked working here.

The senator and Landon entered the office; the senator opened the curtains and windows while saying, “Our evaluation of the planes isn’t as high as you think.”

“You know, every year many people bring worthless projects to the Defense Ministry. The Ministry isn’t a research institution and knows almost nothing about cutting-edge tech.”

“That makes them think many projects have value and meaning, but they don’t.”

“Our job…” After tidying his things and standing by his chair, the senator said, “…is to prevent wasting taxpayers’ money on unnecessary budgets. Do you understand?”

He took the coffee and briefcase from Landon and sat down.

Landon tried to speak but was cut off.

“I know you and Lynch come from the same place. I’m willing to offer reasonable help—we’re colleagues after all. But you can’t use such obviously…” He shook his head and threw two documents from the briefcase onto the desk with a snap.

“…Do you understand what I mean?”

They stared at each other for a moment before Landon reluctantly nodded.

The senator smiled, “See? Not hard. Anything else?”

“If not, remember to close the door when you leave.”

Landon nodded again and turned to leave.

Watching the door close, the senator shook his head.

He knew the planes were valuable; otherwise, the President wouldn’t have specially approved the funds. But that didn’t mean he had to agree with or vote for the President’s idea.

Of course, he wasn’t unwilling to get some money from Congressman Landon and Lynch, but his backers wanted to keep blocking Lynch for as long as possible.

Even if the funding eventually passed, delaying it was the goal.

The debut of Lynch’s planes immediately made domestic military contractors realize the future of military equipment was about to change. Once the biggest flaw of the plane was solved, only advantages remained.

Before others noticed, Lynch had already solved the problem and produced prototypes. If his budget passed, others wouldn’t catch up in time.

In reality, they were already behind; this was just doing what they could.

Offending Lynch? Not an issue. Business competition always exists. Anyone trying to make money commercially must face competition.

For Lynch, these obstacles were part of business competition. For them, Lynch’s sudden entry into military manufacturing was also competition.

The senator had long benefited from these groups; he wouldn’t suddenly side with Lynch over a few tens of millions in funding. Lynch’s appeal wasn’t that strong.

He shook his head and began working. At that moment, the phone on the corner of the desk rang.

The red button lit up—either the White House or the Defense Ministry.

He thought for a moment and picked up on the sixth ring.

There’s a trick: if the call isn’t urgent, the caller usually hangs up after three rings.

If it keeps ringing, it’s important and can’t be avoided.

Senators avoid getting too close to the White House or Defense Ministry; it causes trouble.

“Sorry, I spilled coffee on my pants and was changing when the phone rang,” the senator quickly made an excuse for the delay.

The caller didn’t question it. “I sent you a video. Watch it carefully. Also, this morning the Defense Ministry plans to increase Lynch’s plane order.”

“From 200 to 600 planes, total budget over 100 million, with possible further increases.”

Members of the Military Appropriations and Budget Committees usually have friends inside the Defense Ministry.

That’s how they get early info and prepare for upcoming developments.

The senator’s brow furrowed. “What happened?”

“Yesterday, Lynch’s Blackstone Security showed the future of aviation through a small-scale armed operation. The Defense Ministry and military are considering creating a third independent service branch.”

“Don’t get involved in this, understand?”

“If you do, you won’t offend us—you’ll offend senior military leaders. Their temper isn’t like ours.”

The message was clear. The senator rubbed his forehead, stood up, and paced seriously.

“I at least need to rule if it fits…”

“You don’t need to. I’m just informing you. I don’t want to switch to a stranger as a partner—you know I’m sentimental.”

“I have a meeting soon. Goodbye.”

After the call ended, whether the video had arrived or not, the senator immediately rushed out and headed to the elevator.

Seeing Congressman Landon inside as the doors began closing, he shouted, “Wait!”