Chapter 613 - 289: The Emperor Outside the Door

On the second floor of the Harrisburg State Capitol Building, the long corridor, usually filled with whispers and handshakes, was thick with a suffocating smell.

A dozen or so lobbyists in expensive suits were gathered in the smoking area.

They came from K Street in Washington, from the pharmaceutical group headquarters in Philadelphia, and from the PR departments of major insurance companies.

They smoked one cigarette after another, the butts at their feet piling up into a small mountain.

Just a wall away, in the House of Representatives chamber, the numbers on the electronic voting board were ticking.

Leo sat quietly on an oak bench at the end of the corridor.

His legs were casually crossed, his trench coat open to reveal a white, tieless shirt underneath.

He was holding a book.

Edward Gibbon’s *The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire*.

He turned the pages slowly, his expression focused.

He looked more like someone spending a leisurely afternoon in a quiet university library than a man awaiting the results of a crucial vote on a key bill.

A flurry of hurried, disorderly footsteps broke the dead silence of the corridor.

William Saint Cloud came jogging over, clutching the hem of his purple velvet suit jacket, which looked like it belonged at a costume party.

William’s face was etched with anxiety. Although he was a hands-off Governor, even he knew what today’s vote meant.

"Leo!"

William stopped beside the bench, panting.

"Why are you just sitting here?"

William pointed at the closed, ornate doors, his voice low but filled with urgency.

"They’re voting in there! Aren’t you going in to keep an eye on things? What if someone flips? What if those damn Republicans suddenly pull something?"

Leo’s finger rested lightly on the page. He didn’t even look up.

"Flip?"

Leo asked coolly.

"William, in the current state of Pennsylvania, who do you think would dare to cross me?"

"But..." William wiped the sweat from his forehead. "That’s over two hundred people! You can never know what’s in a person’s heart. Who knows what they’ll do in the privacy of the voting booth? What if the pharmaceutical companies offered them more money?"

Leo closed the book.

The cover made a soft thud.

He looked up at the nominal Governor.

"William, the situation is very clear."

"There’s a gun to their heads."

Leo pointed to the doors.

"The two hundred and three people sitting in there... every single one of them knows that if I’m not satisfied today, their political careers will be over tomorrow."

"Under these circumstances, no one is going to commit political suicide for a few kickbacks they haven’t even received yet."

William paused, then let out a sigh of relief and sat down next to Leo.

"Then why don’t you go in? Wouldn’t it be nice to enjoy the moment of victory? Watching those old diehards being forced to bow their heads... how satisfying would that be?"

"No."

Leo opened his book again.

"I’m staying out here to let them keep one last shred of dignity."

Leo looked at the words in his book, his tone indifferent.

"They are Legislators, elected representatives. Although I’ve effectively taken them hostage, procedurally, they still need to maintain the dignity of independent decision-making."

"If I were sitting in the gallery, watching them press every button, it would be a humiliation."

"When you put a collar on a dog, you have to be gentle. Don’t let it feel like a dog. Let it feel like it’s serving its master."

"Let them, in that closed room, hold on to the last illusion that they are voting for the people."

"It will help them be more obedient in the future."

William’s jaw dropped as he stared at Leo’s profile.

He suddenly didn’t know what to say. His mind went completely blank.

’Mr. President,’ Leo thought to himself, ’this Chapter is about the accession of Emperor Commodus.’

’The beginning of a tyrant,’ Roosevelt’s voice echoed in his mind. ’You did the right thing, Leo. An emperor doesn’t need to always wield the whip. An emperor merely needs to exist. That is enough.’

’This sense of presence in one’s absence—that is the highest realm of power.’

BANG!

A deep, loud sound came from within the chamber.

It was the sound of a gavel striking a desk.

It was followed by a moment of dead silence, then an eruption of thunderous applause.

The doors were pushed open.

A wave of heat and noise rushed out.

The Speaker of the House, Dante Russo, walked out, his face flushed with excitement.

He was waving a freshly printed list of the vote totals, like a general who had just won a great victory.

Reporters swarmed forward, camera flashes bathing the corridor in a stark white light.

"Mr. Speaker! What’s the result?"

"Did it pass? What were the numbers?"

Russo straightened his tie and cleared his throat.

"Ladies and gentlemen."

Russo’s voice was loud and clear, with even a slight tremor of excitement.

"I am honored to announce."

"Bill HB-709, the Medicine Benefits Transparency and Fairness Bill."

"Ayes: 185."

"Nays: 18."

"Abstentions: 0."

"The bill passes with an overwhelming majority!"

The corridor instantly erupted.

The eighteen ’nay’ votes came mostly from diehards who had already decided to retire, or from staunch Republicans in extremely safe districts who couldn’t care less about public opinion.

But faced with the torrent of 185 ’aye’ votes, they were like a single ripple in the ocean, swallowed up without making a sound.

Leo closed his book.

He handed the thick volume of *The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire* to William beside him, gesturing at the book.

"Read more books and fewer magazines when you have free time."

Then, he stood up.

His movements weren’t fast; they were almost languid.

But the moment he rose, the air around him seemed to freeze.

Russo saw him.

The Speaker, who had been enjoying the media scrum, immediately dropped his smile, pushed through the crowd, and hurried over.

"Leo... oh, no, Mr. Mayor." Russo’s voice was filled with deference. "We did it."

The reporters saw him too.

The cameras instantly turned, and all the flashes focused on the young man in the black trench coat.

Leo didn’t speak, only nodding slightly.

Then, he began to walk toward the doors.

The crowd parted automatically.

Whether it was the representatives just emerging from the vote, the reporters frantically taking pictures, or even the opposition lobbyists, everyone instinctively stepped aside, clearing a wide path for him.

Leo stood at the entrance to the chamber.

It was the only way out.

Over two hundred Representatives were filing out, and they all had to pass by Leo to leave.

Leo didn’t move. He just stood there.

He didn’t smile, nor did he shake hands and make small talk.

He just watched every person who walked out.

His gaze was calm, yet it had a tangible weight.

Every representative who passed him—Democrat or Republican, supporter or opponent—would instinctively lower their head or turn aside the moment they met his gaze, avoiding direct eye contact.

It was the instinctive reaction of the conquered.

Representative Smith came out.

Seeing Leo, Smith faltered for a step. He forced an awkward, ingratiating smile, gave a slight bow, and then scurried away like a child caught misbehaving by a parent.

Leo reached into his trench coat pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes.

He took one out and placed it between his lips.

He didn’t take out a lighter.

He just stood there, holding the cigarette with two fingers, his gaze casually sweeping over the crowd.

One second.

Just one second passed.

A figure rushed out from the crowd.

It was a senior representative from Harrisburg.

But right now, he pulled out his lighter with the speed of a practiced waiter.

CLICK.

A flame flickered to life.

The representative cupped his hands around the flame and brought it to the tip of Leo’s cigarette.

His face was all smiles.

"Mr. Mayor," the representative said in a low voice, "a brilliant campaign."

Leo dipped his head slightly and took a drag.

The tobacco caught, the red ember flaring and dimming.

He took a deep drag, then slowly exhaled.

Gray smoke rose in the corridor, obscuring his face.

"Thank you,"

Leo said softly.

The representative nodded and stepped aside.

The surroundings were dead silent.

Everyone watched this scene unfold.

No one thought the representative was sucking up, and no one thought Leo was putting on airs.

In that moment, it seemed like a perfectly natural ritual.

A coronation of power.

Leo showed no ecstasy at his absolute power, no tyrant’s arrogance.

He was calm.

As calm as he had been while reading his book.

This was the effect he wanted.

Not fear, not worship, but control.

A philosophical, absolutely rational control.

He only needed to stand here, with a single cigarette, to make these people who wielded legislative power understand who the true master was.

Leo took one last drag from his cigarette.

The red ember burned all the way down, scorching the filter.

He casually stubbed the cigarette out on the corridor’s marble railing, leaving a black, scorched mark.

’Time to go,’ Leo thought.

He didn’t look at anyone else, walking straight toward the stairwell.

His back was straight, his steps steady.

He had won.

But he found the thrill of victory faded quickly, and he soon sank into a boundless emptiness.

It was the chill of standing in a vacuum of power.

The more you take, the heavier the debt you owe.

The higher you climb, the more the foundation beneath your feet is built upon the compromises and betrayals of countless others.

It started to rain again outside.

Rain washed over the stone steps of the State Capitol, as if trying to wash away the traces of unseen deals.

This war had no end.

There were only ever-increasing stakes and ever-dwindling paths of retreat.

He pushed open the main doors and walked into the curtain of rain.

Behind him, the old order was collapsing.

Before him, a new world, scarred and broken.

He didn’t look back. He only moved forward.

Next, the Senate.