A sharp rap cut off Ethan’s speech.
Ethan paused, staring blankly at Leo, the red marker in his hand still hovering in midair.
"Calm down," Leo said.
He stood up, walked to the whiteboard, and looked at the complex arrows and terms.
"Your diagram is beautiful, Ethan. Really. The logic is perfect, the concept is grand."
Leo looked directly into Ethan’s eyes.
"But don’t forget, we’re building a house with Pittsburgh’s old, cracked bricks."
"We’re not dealing with a group of test subjects waiting to be remolded."
"We’re dealing with the workers on the South District construction site, waiting for a paycheck to buy dicine."
"We’re dealing with the single mothers in the barbershop worried about affording their kids’ education."
"We’re dealing with the sanitation workers who get up at four every morning to sweep the streets."
Leo pointed out the window.
"We’re not playing ’SimCity,’ Ethan. There’s no ’restart’ button here."
"We’re serving living, breathing people."
"If we take a step that’s too big and tear open their wounds, they’ll feel the pain, they’ll bleed, and then they’ll furiously throw us out of office."
Ethan was stunned.
He subconsciously opened his mouth, as if to argue.
But when he t Leo’s almost ruthless eyes, the words caught in his throat.
Ethan’s tense shoulders slumped. He deflated like a punctured ball.
He lowered his head, looked at the red marker in his hand, and shook his head with a wry smile.
"Sorry, Leo." Ethan rubbed his throbbing temples. "I think... I really did get a little carried away."
"It’s normal." Leo clapped him on the shoulder. "That’s the taste of power. It’s more addictive than alcohol, but we have to stay sober at all tis."
"Alright, let’s put this social restructuring aside for now."
Leo picked up an eraser and wiped away the concepts that were too far ahead of their ti.
"Let’s get back to reality. Back down to earth."
Ethan quickly composed himself.
He pulled a folder he had already prepared from the pile of docunts.
"You’re right, Leo. The reality is, we have one hundred days to prove we’re not just fools who shout slogans."
Ethan opened the folder and pointed to the three core projects listed inside.
"This is the ’Hundred-Day New Deal’ draft I put together."
Ethan didn’t rush to read the contents. Instead, he looked at Leo with a solemn expression.
"This is your ’political honeymoon’ as the new Mayor."
"During these three months, the citizens who elected you will have the utmost patience. They’ll give you room for trial and error."
"But if we can’t produce results in that ti, prove you have the ability to run this city, and prove your promises aren’t empty checks..."
"Then, that tolerance will instantly turn to disappointnt, or even rage. The enemies waiting in the wings will imdiately pounce and tear you to shreds."
Ethan took a deep breath and pushed the folder in front of Leo.
"So, this Hundred-Day New Deal draft is absolutely critical."
"And I believe we must launch these three initiatives imdiately."
First, the Pittsburgh Revitalization Plan, Phase Two.
Second, the Inland Port expansion.
Third, municipal transparency reform.
Leo looked at the three far more pragmatic goals and nodded.
"Good. This is exactly what I wanted," Leo said. "If we do these three things well, we can get our footing. As for any social experints, we’ll talk about those after we survive."
"But," Ethan’s tone shifted, and his brow furrowed, "to implent these three plans, we face one major obstacle."
"What obstacle?"
"People."
Ethan took out a personnel list.
"Pittsburgh is a strong-mayor city. By custom, a new Mayor has the right to replace the heads of the various administrative departnts. And right now, the people in those positions are all Carter Wright’s old guard or Morganfield’s proxies."
"The Director of the City Finance Bureau, Tom O’Malley. He’s the one who froze our funds before."
"The Director of the City Labor Bureau, Peter Rose. He’s been in that position for ten years and controls the list of all engineering contractors."
"Then there’s the Planning Bureau, the Health Bureau, the Public Works Bureau..."
Hearing these nas, which had caused him countless problems, Leo’s expression remained impassive.
He sat in his chair, his fingers tapping lightly on the desk.
After a mont, Leo looked up, his gaze calm as he t Ethan’s.
"So, Ethan," Leo began, "as my chief of staff, what’s your recomndation for this situation?"
Ethan t Leo’s gaze, took a deep breath, and his tone beca more resolute than ever before.
"My recomndation is a purge."
"Replace all of them. We need to install our own people."
Ethan gestured toward the door.
"Frank may not want a desk job, but those young Union leaders he recomnded are more than capable of handling the Labor Bureau positions. And there are the professional volunteers we found during the campaign..."
Leo frowned.
"Replace all of them?" Leo shot back. "Ethan, do you really think you can run a city of three hundred thousand people with just Sarah and a few young Union leaders?"
"They have passion, and they’re loyal," Ethan argued. "That’s more important than anything."
"Passion doesn’t put food on the table, and loyalty can’t fix a sewer line," Leo said coldly. "Do those Union leaders know the process for issuing municipal bonds? Do you understand the chemical trics for a wastewater treatnt plant?"
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