The stop-work order on the construction site was lifted.
The "Pittsburgh Renaissance No. 1" project, after weathering the turmoil, restarted at an even faster pace.
Without interference from City Hall, the project advanced by leaps and bounds.
Leo invested most of his ti and energy into these tangible construction projects.
He savored the feeling of changing reality with his own two hands.
But the peace didn’t last long.
Representative Murphy called again.
This ti, his tone was urgent and full of discontent.
"Leo, I’m glad the trouble at your construction site is resolved," Murphy said, his voice cold over the phone. "But have you forgotten our agreent? The primary is less than two weeks away!"
"The latest polls are out. My numbers and that damn kid Cortes’s are still neck and neck—within the margin of error!"
"And what about your ’Pittsburgh Heart’? All it does is post daily progress videos of digging and roadwork. No other major moves! Frank’s guys from the Union are out on the streets canvassing for every day, but the results have been minimal!"
"What happened to all that support you promised ?"
Leo tried to placate him over the phone.
"Representative, please don’t worry. We’ve been working on the grassroots mobilization and positive publicity the whole ti."
"We’re preparing a more crucial weapon. I assure you, in the final week before Election Day, we’ll deploy it on schedule. It’ll be the move that settles things and locks in your victory."
Murphy was clearly unsatisfied with Leo’s cryptic reassurances.
"What crucial weapon? Leo, let remind you, a political campaign isn’t so Hollywood spy movie. I don’t need a secret weapon! I need a tangible increase in my poll numbers! Figures I can see, figures that will put my mind at ease!"
In his Washington office on Capitol Hill, Murphy slamd the phone down in anger.
His campaign manager, a middle-aged woman nad Karen Miller, was standing before his desk.
"John, I never should have agreed to you working with this Wallace character," Karen complained. "He’s too young, too naive, and too unpredictable. He won’t tell us what he’s doing, which completely violates the basic rules of a political campaign!"
Representative Murphy rubbed his weary temples.
He, too, was irritated and anxious about Leo’s thods.
But he knew better than anyone that he could no longer do without Leo’s imnse influence among the working class of Pittsburgh.
If he had a falling out with Leo now, he was almost certain to lose the primary.
"Let’s give him a little more ti, Karen." Murphy finally reined in his temper. "We’ll trust him one last ti."
Leo felt the imnse pressure from his allies.
If he couldn’t help Murphy win the primary decisively this ti, then the fragile political alliance he had painstakingly built with Murphy, and by extension Senator Sanders, would instantly crumble.
He would once again be a lone operator in Pittsburgh, fighting all on his own.
He spoke softly to the empty office.
"Mr. President, I hope your dark political theory actually works this ti."
Roosevelt’s voice echoed in his mind, full of confidence.
"Don’t worry, my boy. In the world of politics, a positive track record and lofty ideals can sotis make people hesitate."
"But a scandal is always the best catalyst for pushing them to make a final decision."
...
「One week before the primary election.」
Alex Cortes’s campaign team held his final large-scale town hall before the election in the auditorium of the University of Pittsburgh’s student activity center.
The auditorium was packed to capacity, and the atmosphere was electric.
The audience was filled with his supporters: young students, university professors, and the Progressive voters drawn in by his radical political slogans.
Wearing a simple denim shirt, Cortes stood center stage, delivering a passionate and infectious speech.
He railed against the corruption in Washington, the greed of Wall Street, and all the injustices that oppressed the common person.
He cast himself as a champion who would always stand with the people.
"They say my ideas are too radical! They say my proposals for universal healthcare and free college tuition are impossible dreams!"
"But I’m here to tell them that what we’re asking for isn’t a gift, but a right that we, as citizens of this country, deserve!"
Every pause he took was t with a tsunami of applause and cheers from the crowd.
In the back of the crowd, a retired steelworker wearing an old jacket and a baseball cap sat quietly.
His na was George, an old friend of Frank’s from the Union for several decades.
In his hand, he clutched a small slip of paper with the question Leo had prepared for him.
The speech ended, and the Q&A session began.
Young students stood up one after another to ask Cortes questions about climate change, student loans, and racial equality.
Cortes handled these questions deftly.
His answers always drew waves of approval from the audience.
Finally, just as the Q&A session was about to end, the moderator passed the microphone to George, who was sitting in the back.
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