After a long wait and countless backroom deals, the Progressive Party Committee Chairman was finally decided upon in early May.
Gladstone defeated his opponent and successfully rose to the position.
Although the entire process had been tortuous, the result was always satisfying... my ass! He had secured people's support only by promising them more benefits, and he had paid far more than he'd expected! At the very least, he had to support three governors at critical moments, help five Progressive Party officials enter the Senate when the opportunity arose, and handle a whole series of deals, both large and small.
This gave him a terrible headache. He had paid far more than planned, and if he couldn't fulfill those promises, he wouldn't hold on to this position for long!
He had to fulfill those promises before people would let him enjoy the fruits of his victory!
When everything had finally settled, Gladstone let out a heavy sigh of relief.
He hadn't thrown any celebratory parties to mark his becoming the Progressive Party's "ruler" for the foreseeable future—or perhaps for a very long time. His status was different from before, and throwing a party wasn't a good idea.
His position was too sensitive. Whether he invited anyone or not, a great many people would show up.
And when too many people came, the public would inevitably have complaints.
In the Federation, an elected president could celebrate his coming leadership and his plans to guide the Federation in his ideal direction.
A governor could also celebrate extravagantly after being elected, inviting some local socialites to mingle and strengthen their relationships.
Even a newly elected mayor could organize a flower-car parade! But when the Progressive Party Committee Chairman was elected, everything remained so quiet.
Perhaps some people would call him, but that was