Chapter 630 - 294: A Roar from the Hometown

"This is the latest data from last night. A sample size of five thousand, covering each of your districts."

Miller opened the file.

The first page was a line graph.

The red line representing his approval rating showed a terrifying, cliff-like plunge over the past week.

It had dropped from a safe 52% to 37%.

A full fifteen-point drop.

And beside it, another blue line was climbing rapidly.

"Who is this?" Miller asked, pointing at the blue line. His voice was a little hoarse.

"That’s my Health Justice candidate."

Leo said nonchalantly.

"He’s just an unknown high school teacher in your district. He has no money, no name recognition, and not even a decent campaign team."

"But he does have one thing."

Leo pointed at Miller’s chest.

"He has that Red Card."

"His job every day is to drive a bus, take the seniors from your district to Pittsburgh to buy medicine, and then drive them back."

"Every single trip is digging your political grave."

Leo stood up and walked over to the three men.

"Gentlemen, the situation is clear."

"Your approval ratings are collapsing. This collapse isn’t because you did anything wrong, but because your constituents have seen another possibility."

"They’ve seen cheaper medicine. They’ve seen fairer treatment."

"And you have become the obstacle in their way."

One of the Senators tried to argue back, "Mayor Wallace, you’re using populism to hijack the legislative process. That bill has serious risks, and we’re being responsible to the taxpayers..."

"Spare me."

Leo cut him off.

"Cut the high-and-mighty bullshit."

"We’re talking about survival."

"You’re all up for election this year. If the bill doesn’t pass, my candidates will eat you alive in the campaign."

"They’ll stand at the entrance of every polling station holding a thirty-five-dollar bottle of medicine. They’ll ask every voter: Do you want to vote for the incumbent who makes you spend three hundred US dollars on your prescription, or me, the one who can save you money?"

Leo leaned in, his gaze sweeping over each of their terrified faces.

"How do you think the voters will choose?"

"You can refuse to vote with me for the sake of your so-called principles."

"But your constituents won’t be voting for you, either."

"They’ll drag you down from those comfortable seats and replace you with someone who will listen."

No one in the room spoke.

The closed loop of interests Leo Wallace had constructed was too powerful.

He had turned every voter who benefited into one of his weapons.

And in an election year, nothing is more terrifying than an angry electorate.

State senators may have four-year terms, but that doesn’t mean they can rest easy.

Every two years, half of the Senate seats are up for reelection.

Unfortunately, Miller and the other two men in the room were the poor souls who had to face the voters’ judgment this year.

For them, votes were oxygen.

At a time like this, right before the campaign was about to begin, any wrong move that could antagonize voters was tantamount to political suicide.

They could fight their opponents to the death in committee for the sake of party interests, but they would never dare to openly stand against an angry electorate, especially when those voters held their ballots in hand.

"What do you want?"

Miller’s voice was low.

He had admitted defeat.

His mother’s phone call had shattered his psychological defenses, and this polling data was the final straw.

"It’s simple."

Leo straightened up, a slight smile touching his lips.

"In the full session of the Senate."

"I need your support on the vote for the Medicine Benefits Transparency and Fairness Bill."

Leo looked at them.

The three Senators exchanged a glance.

They saw the compromise in each other’s eyes.

This was an out.

"If we do as you say..." Miller asked, "those candidates of yours in our districts..."

"They’ll cease their activities."

Leo promised.

"They will issue statements praising your spirit of bipartisan cooperation at this critical moment."

"Your approval ratings will recover."

"Your mother will be proud of you."

Miller took a deep breath.

He reached out, picked up the glass of water on the table, and took a sip.

"Deal."

Miller said.

The other two nodded in agreement.

In the face of political survival, party lines, ideology, and pressure from donors all had to take a backseat.

Leo looked at the three men with their heads bowed.

He knew that a breach in the Senate had been opened.

...

「At the same time.」

Harrisburg, Office of the Acting President of the Senate.

Robert Kaufman sat behind the large desk.

The room was thick with smoke.

Sitting across from him were the Republican Party’s chief Whip and several important committee chairs.

Their expressions were all grim.

"Those three traitors met with Wallace at the Hilton Hotel."

The Whip put down the phone and said, gritting his teeth.

"Our guy says they were in there for half an hour. When they came out, Miller looked like he’d just come back from his own execution."

"They must have been bought."

A committee chair slammed his fist on the table in anger.

"Or intimidated."

Kaufman shook his head.

He held a cigar between his fingers, his expression much calmer than anyone else’s in the room.

"It would take too much money to buy those three old foxes, money Wallace doesn’t have. He put a gun to their heads, and that gun was the vote."

"Mr. President, what do we do?" the Whip asked. "If those three flip, their votes plus the Democratic Party’s will make it a tie."

"Once the bill reaches the floor for debate, the public pressure will be even greater. More people will start to waver then."

"We can’t let that bill pass."

Kaufman took a drag from his cigar, exhaling a thick cloud of smoke.

"Don’t panic."

"Don’t be intimidated by that kid’s momentum."

"He’s certainly impressive, making such a big splash, but have any of you looked closely at his hand?"

Kaufman stood up, walked to the window, and pointed in the direction of Pittsburgh.

"He’s burning through money."

"That Mutual Aid Alliance, that so-called cheap medicine."

"Every day, every second, it’s burning through cash like crazy."

"It’s unsustainable."

Kaufman’s gaze was cold.

"He’s gambling. He’s betting that he can force us to fold before his funding dries up."

"All we have to do is drag it out."

"Let the bill get tied up in procedure for a while. Let the insurance companies continue to block his legitimate channels, forcing him to buy high-priced drugs on the black market."

"In another three months."

"No, maybe just two."

"His funding will snap."

"By then, the mob that can’t get their medicine, the workers who discover their Red Cards have become worthless paper..."

"They’ll be the ones to turn on him and tear him to shreds."

Kaufman stubbed out his cigar in the ashtray.

"So, our strategy remains the same."

"Delay."

"Use amendments, use procedure, use hearings—use every rule in the book."

"Even if it gets to the debate stage, we’ll just propose a thousand amendments."

"Every single amendment has to be debated, has to be voted on."

"We’re going to turn this legislative battle into a marathon."

"Let’s see if his money runs out first..."

"...or if our patience does."

Kaufman adjusted his suit.

"Tell everyone to hold the line."

"This is just a war of attrition."

"As long as we don’t make any mistakes, that young man will collapse on his own."

The others in the room nodded.

The sense of panic began to subside.

Experience is what counts.

Kaufman had seen through to Leo’s most fatal weakness.

Time.

Leo was in a race against time.

And the Senate was an expert at murdering time.