Blackstone Code-Chapter 669: The Script, the Director, and the Real Objective

“What does this have to do with the military?”

Five minutes ago, the President had been looking forward to a new day. Now, just five minutes later, a headache was setting in. “The ship’s gone? Then send someone to find it. I don’t see what this has to do with the military.”

He held back from swearing. Early in the morning, the military had submitted a Naval Expansion Proposal to the Presidential Cabinet and the Ministry of Defense, making his head buzz.

Ever since the major military downsizing, all they’d heard of was reductions—never expansions.

Besides, the Federation had no need for expansion. There was no sign of global conflict in the near term, and even if one broke out, it likely wouldn’t involve them. So the military showing up now seemed completely out of place.

The Minister of Defense stood at the President’s desk, glanced at the report in his hand, then spread his hands. “Yesterday, a Federation cargo ship bound for Amellia disappeared…”

The President impatiently nodded. “I know. But what does that have to do with the military?”

The Defense Minister looked slightly embarrassed. “The military…” He quickly rephrased. “The Navy believes this might be the work of a foreign nation trying to make us look weak. If we can’t even protect cargo ships in our own waters, the world will see our navy as a joke.”

“Even if we defeated Gephra’s fleet!”

His tone softened. “Besides, the current Navy structure is still based on the old isolationist, defensive model. It’s too restrictive.”

The President flipped through the expansion plan on his desk. The room fell briefly silent.

The Navy argued that this was a golden period for its development. In the past, to avoid alarming other nations, the Federation had maintained only one and a half naval fleets—a full one and a reserve.

Even after the naval war, to avoid being perceived as an aggressor, they didn’t expand. So the Navy remained stuck in its isolationist framework.

That era is over. Back then, the military and its personnel were barely respected. But now, with a powerful Navy and a shift from conservative to aggressive policy, things needed to change.

Expansion meant more captains, more senior officers—even more generals. That was the real goal.

In the end, it was all about power.

A fully staffed fleet already had three to five generals—more than enough. But there were countless officers waiting for promotion. Without expansion, how could they move up?

And a Navy Chief commanding a single fleet was a completely different figure from one overseeing several groups.

So it was no surprise that the Navy pushed for expansion.

Half an hour later, the President had read enough. He closed the report and sat in thought, chin resting on his clenched fists.

He owed the military for helping him secure his position—and Truman had played a key role as the bridge between them.

If someone helped you, you had to repay them. That was how a Federal President governed—repay loyalty.

If someone didn’t follow that rule, they wouldn’t be re-elected.

The President still wanted another term, so abandoning the military wasn’t an option. But the expansion plan felt… too aggressive.

It wasn’t as simple as approving it and sending it to Congress. He had to consider international opinion.

Naval expansion meant strengthening sea power. It meant having more strike capability to roam the oceans, which would cast a frightening shadow of military deterrence over every nation.

What if those countries united?

What if they went further and formed a military alliance?

These were things he damn well had to consider—it wasn’t simple.

The President looked up. “What’s your take on this?”

The Defense Minister pursed his lips and said nothing. But his silence was a clear signal—the Defense Ministry was siding with the military.

“You’re really going to make this difficult for me,” the President muttered bluntly. He couldn’t reject it outright—he needed military support. But agreeing too readily could bring political fallout.

After some thought, he said, “File it with Congress for discussion.”

A smile spread across the Defense Minister’s face. The Defense Ministry and the military were separate entities—but heavily intertwined. Approving naval expansion meant more generals. Retired officers could return and climb the ranks; active officers could gain administrative experience, setting themselves up for higher promotion. It was a win for everyone.

After seeing the Minister out, the President downed his coffee in one gulp. He’d meant to sip it slowly, but now he needed something to clear his head—to cool down.

He’d agreed, but wasn’t going to push it forward himself. It seemed passive, even foolish—but the timing was just too sensitive.

He needed to hold his current supporters while not alienating the conservatives. Until the outcome was clearer, any rash move would be foolish. Caution was critical.

With the President’s approval, the naval expansion entered the formal process. At the same time, a wave of articles swept through the Federal press, all circling the same question: Should the Federation show its strength to the world?

From The Federal Daily to Entertainment Today, from serious political journals to tabloid gossip rags, everyone was asking it.

We’re already strong—shouldn’t the world know it?

One of the key triggers for this campaign was the missing cargo ship.

The truth was, without media hype, 99% of the population wouldn’t care about a lost cargo ship. It had nothing to do with their lives, their families, or their property.

But when the issue became one of national pride and the display of national strength, it struck a nerve and exploded in the media.

During the isolationist years, people had been humiliated enough. And that policy had proven worthless. So now, a wave of reactionary aggression was sweeping the nation. People were more radical than ever.

63.1% believe the military downsizing should stop and the Navy should be expanded to better protect Federation shipping from piracy.

22% believe things should stay as they are, that excessive military display might alarm neighboring nations…

Lynch read the poll results in the newspaper, unable to suppress a wide smile. “The Federation’s strength is finally shining through. The future will be brighter than ever.”

Sitting around him were high-ranking naval officers—two of them generals. Every one of them wore a satisfied smile. Clearly, they were pleased with how things were progressing.

The aerospace company Lynch founded was never the end goal—just a bridge, a node. Its real value was giving the Navy and members of Congress more opportunities to connect.

What truly earned Lynch the Navy’s friendship was his leadership in pushing the naval expansion plan.

When he proposed the idea, Mr. Truman immediately understood—the Navy couldn’t refuse.

At the center of a group of lower-ranking naval officers stood a vice admiral who had held that rank for nearly twenty years. He didn’t have many years left in service.

He had thought he would retire as a vice admiral, ending his life with unfulfilled ambitions. But unexpectedly, this opportunity appeared.

Once the Navy expanded, there would inevitably be a reshuffling of positions: captains would become rear admirals, rear admirals would become major generals, major generals would become vice admirals, and vice admirals… would become full admirals.

But to make it happen, 60% of the Congressional Military Committee had to agree, and over 50% of Congress would have to vote in favor. That was no easy task.

Because of historical and political reasons, the military had long been unpopular—seen as unable to defend the country or achieve glory. Twisted political messaging had led the public to dislike soldiers and oppose military service for their family members.

So the Navy had never seriously considered this—until Lynch presented his idea and plan. He believed it had a high chance of success, and most importantly, it wouldn’t cost anyone else a cent. He would fund the lobbying himself.

Faced with a wealthy, influential ally willing to support them and build ties, how could the Navy refuse?

Not to mention Mr. Truman played a crucial role. As the Navy’s chosen political spokesperson, his stance carried real weight in shaping their decisions.

“Mr. Lynch, do you really think we have a chance?” the vice admiral asked, unable to hide his desire. His question was blunt.

Around him, the major generals and other officers looked at Lynch with burning anticipation. This was the moment they had waited for over the past decade.

Lynch nodded without hesitation. “As long as we follow my script, the Navy will be expanded before the presidential election.”

“Gentlemen, if we can secure expansion before the election, that means we’ll have the chance for a second expansion during the President’s term. By then, the Navy’s size will surpass any point in the Federation’s history.”

“This will be the Navy’s most glorious era!”