In the days following the victory at the community center, Leo beca sothing of a minor celebrity in Pittsburgh.
His YouTube channel, "Pittsburgh Heart," saw its subscriber count explode from a few thousand to fifty thousand.
So national online dia outlets also ran brief stories about him.
They called him "a new voice for the Rust Belt," a young activist daring to challenge the Establishnt Faction.
Leo’s life had also changed.
When he walked down the street, people would recognize him and greet him.
The residents of the community center treated him like one of their own, and people would often bring him homade pies and cookies.
He used his consulting fee from the community and a portion of that huge donation to completely resolve his financial problems.
He paid off his credit card bills and even started making planned paynts on his astronomical student loans.
He could finally, for the ti being, escape his survival anxiety and start thinking about more long-term issues.
The war for Pittsburgh had only just begun.
He needed a new battlefield.
Just as he was contemplating his next move, an unexpected visitor ca knocking.
That afternoon, Leo was in his apartnt with Sarah, planning the content for the next "Pittsburgh Heart" video.
A knock ca at the door.
Leo opened the door to find a sharp, middle-aged man in a dark blue suit standing on his doorstep.
The man’s hair was ticulously combed, and he wore a professional smile.
"Mr. Leo Wallace?" the man asked.
"I am."
"My na is Mark Jennings." The man extended his hand. "I’m the Deputy Director of the Pittsburgh Mayor’s Office and Mayor Carter Wright’s chief of staff."
Leo shook his hand, imdiately understanding the man’s intentions.
He invited Jennings into his small apartnt.
Sarah, taking the hint, stood up and excused herself, saying she needed to go help at the community center before leaving the apartnt.
Jennings glanced around the room, his gaze lingering for a mont on the fake fireplace and the two books on the bookshelf.
"Mr. Wallace, I’m here today on behalf of Mayor Carter Wright," Jennings said, getting straight to the point as he sat down in a chair.
"The Mayor has been following your performance in the community center incident very closely. He highly comnds the talent you’ve shown, as well as your passion for the community."
Leo listened quietly.
He knew the real point would co after these pleasantries.
Jennings took a file from his briefcase and placed it on the coffee table in front of Leo.
"The Mayor believes that an outstanding young man like you should be serving the citizens of Pittsburgh on a larger platform, not wasting your energy on unnecessary confrontations."
He made an offer that any ordinary young person would find impossible to refuse.
"The Mayor has decided to establish a new departnt within the city governnt called the ’Office of Community Relations Coordination.’ It will be specifically responsible for handling communication and coordination between the city governnt and the various communities."
"He would like to formally invite you to serve as this office’s deputy director."
He pushed the file toward Leo.
"This is a formal employnt contract. The position is deputy director, with all the benefits of a municipal employee. Your annual salary will be eighty thousand US dollars."
Eighty thousand US dollars.
The number made Leo’s heart skip a beat.
It was an astronomical sum to him, a figure he had never dared to even dream of.
This money wouldn’t just free him from debt; it would allow him to live a decent, middle-class life.
He could get a bigger apartnt, buy a new car, and even start thinking about starting a family.
A confident smile appeared on Jennings’s face.
He had seen too many young people like Leo.
They were full of passion and ideals, but in the end, they could never resist the temptations of reality.
"And," Jennings added, sweetening the pot, "this isn’t just a job, Mr. Wallace. It’s an opportunity."
"The Mayor greatly admires young people like you. He believes you are the future hope of the Democratic Party. As long as you’re willing to be a bit more pragmatic, to learn to cooperate with the system instead of fighting it, I can guarantee you a limitless future in Pittsburgh politics."
It was a classic sugar-coated bullet.
A poison wrapped in money, status, and future prospects, toxic enough to kill any idealist.
Accepting this job ant Leo could instantly escape poverty, rise to a new station overnight, and enter the very system he had once sought to challenge.
But the price was also obvious.
He would be co-opted by this massive bureaucracy, becoming a part of the old system.
He would be asked to diate the protests he once supported, to pacify the victims for whom he once cried out.
All his sharp edges would be ground down, bit by bit, by this system.
In the end, he would beco another Carter Wright, or another Jennings.
Refusing the job, on the other hand, ant continuing his difficult struggle from outside the system.
He would continue to live on the edge of poverty, facing the ubiquitous pressure and sar campaigns.
’A clever strategy,’ Roosevelt’s voice rang in Leo’s mind. ’Carter Wright has finally sent soone who understands politics. He chose not to crush you, but to buy you off. Because he knows the best way to kill an enemy is to make him your friend.’
Leo was silent for a mont.
He neither accepted nor refused on the spot.
He had learned the lesson Roosevelt taught him: never reveal your hand right away.
He looked up, a polite smile on his face.
"Mr. Jennings, thank you very much for the Mayor’s recognition," he said. "This is a very important decision. I’ll need so ti to think it over carefully."
Jennings nodded. He wasn’t surprised at all.
In his view, this hesitation was just a negotiating tactic, a young man’s attempt to raise his own value.
The final outco was already set in stone.
"Of course." Jennings stood up. "I completely understand. You can contact anyti. I look forward to your good news."
Leo saw Jennings to the door.
He watched the other man get into a black governnt car and disappear down the street.
He closed the door and leaned against it, letting out a long breath.
The short, half-hour conversation just now had made him more nervous than any hearing he had ever been a part of.
He turned and spoke softly to the empty room.
"Alright, Mr. President."
"What do we do now?"
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