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墨書 Inktalez
Carter sat in the back seat of the Black SUV, quietly gazing out the window.
Through the dark glass, he could clearly see Rain still surrounded by a throng of reporters. Standing under the bright lights, he skillfully navigated the media, effortlessly catching each question and returning it with perfect poise.
In this battle, Rain was like a trained warrior, wielding words as weapons and treating the crowd as his battlefield. Each response was a setup for his next offensive.
Meanwhile, Carter was isolated from this conflict.
Inside the SUV, his secretary sat beside him, her expression animated as she spoke rapidly, holding a tablet filled with polling curves and statistical data.
“Carter, did you know? After today’s event, our real-time polling has surged by at least five percentage points!” Her tone was almost euphoric. “This is just the beginning; the internet has exploded! The news coverage is astonishing, and the comments section is flooded with supportive voices!”
She swiped through the data on her tablet, continuing her enthusiastic monologue. “Our support among young voters has skyrocketed, and the working-class response has increased by at least thirty percent! This is the strongest wave of growth we’ve seen in this campaign! Carter, do you know what this means? It means we’re not just playing politics; we’re shaping a new narrative—a story that can truly change society!”
The more she spoke, the more excited she became, gesturing animatedly as if she could already see victory in their future.
But Carter couldn’t absorb a single word.
His gaze remained fixed outside, watching the reporters, assistants, campaign advisors surrounding Rain, and those supporters still lingering in the audience. A surge of indescribable emotions welled up within him.
Was he doing the right thing?
Had his story really changed anything? Or was he merely being used?
From the very beginning, he had worried about this. He knew politics wasn’t a battlefield; there were no comrades here—only interests. Yet when he stood on that stage and saw those shining eyes below, people deeply moved by his words, he truly felt he had done something meaningful.
He had given voice to those who were silent; he had made visible those who were forgotten; he had sparked discussions about their issues—wasn’t that worthwhile?
If the outcome was positive, then what did it matter if he was being used?
Carter closed his eyes and let out a soft sigh, feeling a conflict within him that was almost tearing him apart.
The secretary continued discussing the polling data, outlining how to further amplify the impact of the topic tomorrow, and strategizing media approaches, but Carter could no longer absorb any of it.
Inside the SUV, he was still contemplating his situation, the turmoil and anxiety inside him making him forget everything around.
Suddenly, a series of knocks broke the silence—
“Tap, tap, tap.”
Carter snapped back to reality and turned his gaze toward the car window. Through the tinted glass, he saw a familiar figure standing outside the door.
It was Keisha.
She still wore those glasses, holding a stack of documents in her arms. Her expression was slightly awkward, yet her eyes sparkled with a certain determination.
“Who is it?” The secretary frowned, impatience creeping into her tone as she reached for the door handle.
As the door swung open, the evening breeze rushed into the car, carrying with it the remnants of cheers from the square and the city's hustle and bustle.
Keisha stood at the entrance, smiling shyly. She raised the documents in her hand. “Uh, sorry to interrupt. I need your signature on these. Mr. Ryan said they need to be processed quickly.”
The secretary glanced at the papers, her impatience easing slightly. She nodded and took them, beginning to flip through the contents.
Meanwhile, Keisha quietly stood by, waiting for the secretary to sign.
Her hand rested lightly on the documents, her fingers nervously tracing the edges of the paper. She seemed eager to say something but didn't know how to start, occasionally stealing glances at Carter inside the SUV.
Carter stole a glance at her as well.
She wasn't wearing a campaign vest; her outfit was similar to what she had on in the morning, but at this moment, standing outside the car, she seemed… different compared to earlier.
She had watched his speech today.
The thought made Carter feel inexplicably uneasy. He instinctively averted his gaze, pretending to look out the window, but when he turned back, their eyes unexpectedly met.
Keisha was looking right at him.
Carter froze for a second, while Keisha blinked in surprise and then suddenly burst into laughter.
Her smile still carried that clumsy yet endearing purity, filled with genuine admiration and surprise. "Carter, you were really amazing today!"
Her voice was soft but sincere, radiating heartfelt praise without any political undertones or insincere flattery. This made Carter's heart skip a beat.
He paused for a moment, then his lips moved slightly as if he wanted to say something, but in the end, he simply nodded and returned a barely perceptible smile.
That night, he received countless applause, numerous compliments, and overwhelming enthusiasm, but her words were the only ones that felt different.
Carter remained silent for a while, echoes of his speech still lingering in his mind. The surrounding sounds, the air inside the car, and the data being scrolled through by his secretary all felt distant. He instinctively cleared his throat and spoke with a hint of awkwardness. "Uh… what are you responsible for tonight?"
His tone was somewhat stiff, even showing an unnatural concern as if he wasn't quite accustomed to this kind of casual social interaction.
Just as Keisha was about to respond, her lips parted slightly with prepared words in her eyes. However, before she could utter the first syllable, the secretary coldly interrupted her with a decisive tone. "She's from the Mobile Unit."
The secretary's voice sliced through the conversation like a precise knife, abruptly cutting off any lingering echoes without any buildup or pause. She quickly flipped through the documents in her hands, frowning slightly as impatience seeped into her tone. "However, this document should be handled by internal staff; it shouldn't be given to her at all."
She looked up with almost no change in her expression and continued sharply. "What is going on with the supervisor of the Mobile Unit? Allowing a field support personnel to handle administrative paperwork is completely chaotic."
Carter turned his head to look at his secretary. She had always been this way, speaking bluntly without any embellishment, as calm as a precisely functioning machine, prioritizing efficiency and lacking the patience to listen to any irrelevant chatter.
But this time, Carter couldn't help but glance at Keisha again—
Her expression froze for a moment, clearly taken aback by the direct criticism, but just a second later, her demeanor changed.
She suddenly smiled, a smile tinged with subtle resignation, even a hint of self-mockery, as if she had long grown accustomed to such absurd situations.
"Well... to be honest, I find it quite baffling too." She shrugged her shoulders, her eyes sparkling with a touch of teasing, the corners of her mouth lifting slightly. Her tone sounded less like a complaint and more like an acceptance of the absurdity of it all.
Carter studied her carefully.
Her smile contrasted sharply with the secretary's cold demeanor—one was like an observer who had long since become unfazed by the chaos of the system, while the other was a manager striving to impose order on everything.
She was nothing like the members of Rain's campaign team, meticulously calculating every step, every word, and the political significance of each event. Nor was she like those grassroots workers trapped by the system, filled with resentment yet powerless to change their circumstances.
She simply did what she could do and accepted the absurdity of the world with a smile, like the only actor in a chaotic theater who could still laugh out loud.
Carter found this easygoing attitude somewhat surprising, even a bit... enviable.
He unconsciously looked at her again; this time his gaze was no longer just a polite glance but carried a hint of an attempt to understand.
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