Feilan's Favor

William stared fixedly at Feilan's face without saying a word.

Their several clashes had left him utterly humiliated, yet he had to admit that Feilan seemed to see things more clearly than he did.

"Gentlemen, what do you think of the approach behind this bill?"

Roosevelt did not comment on Feilan's remarks. Instead, his gaze swept across every cabinet member present.

Cordell rested his chin on his hand. "From the perspective of financial stability, I think the approach is sound, but the details need input from more professionals."

Harold nodded. "This bill is somewhat radical, but the United States truly needs a strong dose of radical medicine right now."

"..."

Most of the cabinet members expressed their agreement.

Roosevelt finally looked at William.

William fell silent for several seconds. But he could not think of a better solution, and in the end, he could only nod.

Roosevelt turned to Feilan. "Kid, since you came up with the idea for this bill, I need you. Are you willing to join the drafting team?"

Feilan's heart surged. He knew this meant he had obtained a ticket into the core of power, and he immediately nodded. "For the United States, I am duty-bound!"

"However... I hope to recommend some people who could help with this bill."

"Go on."

"Arthur Ballantine."

He was the current Assistant Secretary of the Treasury Department, a man from the Hoover Administration.

During the banking crisis of 1931, he had led the Reconstruction Finance Corporation's relief plan. He had practical experience in bank classification and evaluation, as well as liquidity injections.

Of course, according to the course of history, he would not only successfully retain his position, but would also become the chief architect of the Emergency Banking Act.

The reason Feilan had gone out of his way to recommend him was simple.

He wanted the man to owe him a favor. That would make the later work on the bill proceed more smoothly.

Roosevelt looked at William. "William, what do you think?"

"Arthur Ballantine is capable. I think he can stay."

As the incoming Secretary of the Treasury, William had long since decided who could be retained after he took office and who should be kicked out.

Arthur Ballantine was one of the people he considered useful.

Even if Feilan had not mentioned him, William would have kept Arthur Ballantine on to help after taking office.

Roosevelt nodded. "Anyone else?"

"Hugh Samuel Johnson. He participated in drafting the economic recovery plan last year and has a unique understanding of 'emergency executive authority.' If we want this bill to pass Congress's review while still leaving us enough room to maneuver, his perspective will be useful."

"And..."

Feilan went on to name more than a dozen people.

With every name he gave, William's expression changed a little more.

It was not because the names were unfamiliar to him. On the contrary, he knew every single one of them.

Some were people he had just been considering recruiting; some were people he was still hesitant about; some had not even occurred to him yet.

Yet the order in which Feilan named them, the categories, and the reasons sounded as though he were reading from a roster he had memorized countless times.

It was like a designer had already devoted himself entirely to designing this product for them. All they needed to do was carry it out.

"That's all."

Roosevelt's gaze habitually fell on William's face.

William raised no objection, which meant he accepted it.

"Good. Before we take office, preparations for this bill must remain strictly confidential. The Hoover Administration has only a few days left. I cannot be sure they will not cause trouble for us during the transition. At a time like this, any premature leak could make us a target."

Roosevelt surveyed the room. "Everything will be announced after we take power!"

Those words were like a silent decree, declaring the end of the long meeting.

Cordell closed his notebook, Harold rubbed his temples, and William silently slid his fountain pen back into its case. Everyone felt an unprecedented sense of relief.

And instinctively, they turned their eyes toward Feilan.

This young man in his twenties had appeared like a reef emerging from thick fog at their most frantic moment, giving this ship on the verge of running aground a direction where it could temporarily moor.

If not for him, there was no telling how long this terrible meeting would have continued circling through its hopeless cycle.

The cabinet members rose one after another.

As Harold passed Feilan, he unusually patted him on the shoulder.

The hardline Secretary of the Interior, known for his toughness, showed no extra expression, but the gesture clearly conveyed his approval.

William was the last to rise. Once he entered the corridor, he immediately instructed the waiting assistant, "Wilson, I don't care how you do it. By tomorrow, I want a detailed file on Feilan Roosevelt sitting on my desk!"

The assistant froze for a moment, then immediately nodded.

At the same time, similar whispered orders passed between different staffers and secretaries in various corners of the corridor:

"Yes, that young man. Get me every piece of information you can find on him."

"Contact New York and find out whether James Roosevelt really has a child named Feilan Roosevelt."

"..."

After tonight, the name Feilan Roosevelt had entered the key watchlist of the United States' core circles of power.

After the cabinet members left, the conference room fell quiet.

Roosevelt leaned back in his chair, removed his pince-nez, and slowly pressed the corners of his eyes with his thumb and forefinger.

For the first time, fatigue showed on the face that had always remained composed and calm.

A moment later, Roosevelt lowered his hand and put his glasses back on. He said to the assistant standing quietly behind him, "Arrange a place for the kid to stay. Let him rest properly for a few days first."

He looked at Feilan. "Go rest first, kid. You have already handed in your answer today. As for the battles ahead, we'll fight them one step at a time."

Feilan nodded and followed the assistant toward the door.

After the door closed, Roosevelt pointed to the chair William had occupied beside him, signaling for Helen to sit.

Helen immediately sat down. "Uncle Franklin, you want to know about Feilan?"

"Yes. Tell me everything about that child."

Helen nodded and recounted Feilan's life in detail, from childhood to the present.

Roosevelt simply listened in silence.

"Before Father died, he called me to his bedside and said, 'Helen, help that child whenever you can in the future. Coming into this world was not his fault.' So later, even when he was arrested by the police several times, I stepped in and suppressed the matter."

"Dropping out, fighting, debt, alcoholism... that was the entirety of his twenty-five-year record?"

Roosevelt's face was filled with confusion.

He simply could not understand how someone who had made such a mess of his life had suddenly become so enlightened.