Building a Conglomerate in Another World-Chapter 248: I Swear

March 27, 1897

Undisclosed Location – The Order’s War Room

The radio broadcast had rattled them.

Inside the dimly lit war room, the most powerful members of the Order of the Phoenix Society sat in silence, listening to the last echoes of Matthew Hesh’s speech playing from a gramophone. The words had been measured, direct, and dangerously effective.

He had done something they hadn’t expected—he had spoken over the media, bypassing their control, and planted doubt in the minds of the people.

When the speech ended, Gideon Langston, the Grand Chancellor, leaned forward, his expression unreadable. He turned to Victor Kessler, the Order’s master strategist.

"How much damage did he do?"

Kessler exhaled sharply. "More than we anticipated." He adjusted his glasses before continuing. "Our plan was working perfectly. The riots, the economic disruption, the election sabotage—it was all shifting public opinion against him."****"But now?" Langston pressed.

"Now, we have a problem."

The speech had disrupted their narrative.

Cornelius Voss, the shipping magnate, drummed his fingers on the polished table. "What’s the public reaction so far?"

Kessler flipped through the reports. "Divided."

He pointed to a series of documents. "His supporters see him as standing firm in the face of crisis. They believe he’s fighting against an orchestrated attack. His words gave them hope."

Langston’s jaw tightened. "And the undecided voters?"

Kessler hesitated. "That’s where the real problem lies." He gestured to another report. "Before the speech, polls showed Royce gaining significant momentum. But now?" He tapped the paper. "Some voters are hesitating."

Langston’s expression darkened. "Hesh just made this election a real fight."

Langston turned to Jonathan Hawthorne, one of the Order’s most influential senators.

"We can’t let him control the narrative. What’s the next move?"

Hawthorne smirked, already thinking ahead. "We use his strength against him."

"Explain."

Hawthorne leaned forward. "Hesh framed himself as the victim of a conspiracy. Fine. Let’s push that narrative further—but twist it. We make him look like a delusional tyrant grasping at power."

Langston raised an eyebrow. "How?"

Hawthorne grinned. "We accuse him of staging these crises himself."

Silence fell over the room. Then Victor Kessler chuckled.

"It’s brilliant."

Hawthorne continued. "We plant the idea that the shortages, the riots, the attacks—it’s all been orchestrated by Hesh to justify extreme government control."

"He becomes the villain," Kessler added, smirking. "A desperate leader who will do anything to hold onto power."

Langston nodded slowly. "And Royce?"

Hawthorne spread his hands. "He positions himself as the man who will restore normalcy. The sane choice. The calm leader Amerathia needs."

Langston tapped his fingers against the table, thinking. Then he stood.

"Make it happen."

March 28, 1897.

The next morning, newspapers across Amerathia carried one shocking headline after another:

"Did President Hesh Create This Crisis to Stay in Power?"

"A Nation Held Hostage: Is the President Behind the Chaos?"

"Insiders Claim Hesh Plans to Declare Martial Law"

The articles pushed the same narrative—that Hesh was manufacturing a national crisis to manipulate the people.

Radio stations echoed the claim. Pundits dissected every word of Hesh’s speech, twisting its meaning, fueling the suspicion that he was the true architect of the nation’s downfall.

Inside the Oval Office, Collins stormed in, his face pale with frustration.

"They flipped it on us, Matt."

Hesh was reading one of the headlines. He tossed the paper onto his desk. "I expected them to hit back."

Collins ran a hand through his hair. "Not like this. They’re making it seem like you’re the one behind all of this. That you’re the one burning Amerathia down."

Matthew exhaled slowly. "They’re good. I’ll give them that."

Collins threw his hands up. "Matt, this is dangerous. People are starting to believe it. Royce is already holding rallies, saying he’ll ’restore democracy.’"

Matthew stood, his expression set in stone. "Then we fight back."

"How?" Collins challenged. "We don’t own the press. We don’t control the radio."

Matthew tapped his desk. "But we have something they don’t."

Collins frowned. "Which is?"

"The truth."

Matthew walked toward the telegraph office, his mind made up.

He turned to Whitaker, the Attorney General.

"I want an official investigation launched into the election interference, the riots, and the economic sabotage. I want names. I want arrests. I want it done now."

Whitaker hesitated. "That’s dangerous, Matt. If we go after them directly—"

Matthew cut him off. "They declared war first."

Whitaker nodded, then left to assemble his team.

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Collins watched him go. "If we do this, it could escalate things beyond an election."

Matthew locked eyes with him. "It already has."

March 30, 1897.

The government officially announced an investigation into election tampering, economic sabotage, and civil unrest.

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Royce’s camp immediately called it a ’political witch hunt.’

The media rushed to paint it as a desperate move by a failing President.

But Matthew didn’t care.

He was done playing defense.

He was going after them.

Back in the war room, Gideon Langston read the latest telegram.

"Hesh is pushing back."

Victor Kessler smirked. "Let him."

Langston set the paper down. "Is the final phase ready?"

Kessler nodded. "Yes. If Hesh wants to fight, we’ll give him a war he can’t win."

The pieces were set.

And soon, one way or another—the election would be decided.

April 3, 1897

The White House, Washington D.C.

The storm had arrived.

Matthew Hesh stood by the tall windows of the Oval Office, his hands clasped behind his back as he watched the city below. Washington D.C. was restless—newspapers, radio broadcasts, and street discussions all revolved around the latest manufactured crisis. The so-called "Hesh Loyalist Coup."

The lies were piling up so fast that it was becoming difficult to discredit them all at once.

Collins stormed into the room, face red with frustration, gripping a newspaper so tightly that the pages crumpled in his fist.

"They’re saying you planned a coup, Matt." He threw the paper onto the desk. "A goddamn coup."

Matthew didn’t move. He had seen the headlines. He had heard the radio broadcasts, spinning stories about a fabricated plot to keep him in power.

The narrative was simple: A ’secret’ group of Hesh loyalists had been exposed for plotting to interfere with the election results. Documents had been "found." A "whistleblower" had come forward. Royce’s allies were parading this story as proof that Hesh was willing to dismantle democracy to stay in office.

And the worst part? Some people were starting to believe it.

"I swear if I find out who is doing this, I will make sure they’ll never see a sunrise again."