Chapter 567 - 266: Another Chat
He was just a tool.
A local bureaucrat used to clean up messes, take the fall, and be discarded when his purpose was served.
If he had really followed Washington’s orders, if he had really caused a bloody conflict in Pittsburgh, then Pennsylvania would descend into chaos, and his reputation would be ruined.
What would Washington do then?
They would kick him to the curb without a second thought, pinning all the blame on him to appease the public’s anger.
’They’ve already given up on me.’
Campbell’s gaze sharpened.
’Whether I do it or not, in their eyes, I’m already a dead man.’
In that case, why should he still listen to them?
Since Washington didn’t take him seriously, why should he sacrifice Pennsylvania’s interests for theirs?
This was his home.
This was the foundation the Campbell Family had built over two hundred years.
If becoming an official in Washington meant burning his own home to the ground, then it wasn’t a position worth having.
A sense of pride and responsibility, one befitting Pennsylvania’s old money, returned to him.
He would protect this place.
He would resolve this crisis in his own way.
And to do that, the troublesome young Mayor, the one who had stirred up this whole storm, Leo Wallace, was the unavoidable key.
He recalled an incident from six months ago.
Back then, Pittsburgh’s Industry Alliance Trust had just started making waves. The scrip, which bypassed the US Dollar system, was circulating wildly among workers and businesses.
The head of the State Auditing Bureau, Charles Boggs, had stormed into this very office with a thick investigative report.
"Governor, that Leo Wallace is engaged in illegal fundraising."
Boggs slammed the report on the table, his voice agitated, spittle flying.
"He’s established a shadow banking system and is issuing unregulated scrip. This is a challenge to the Federal Reserve’s authority, a serious financial crime! The investigation team is already on its way to Pittsburgh as we speak!"
Campbell remembered what he did then.
He had picked up the report and flipped through a few pages.
He saw the detailed records of violations inside.
According to the letter of the law, there was enough evidence to keep Leo in prison until the next century.
He flipped to the latter half of the report, where there were several statistical charts on the economic performance of Western Pennsylvania.
The data lines for the Pittsburgh area were trending upward, bucking the national trend.
Heavy equipment factories in Erie had resumed three-shift operations.
Logistics centers in Scranton had rehired five hundred drivers.
In that cold winter when the economy of all of America was in decline, it was the only engine in the entire Rust Belt that was still generating heat.
Campbell closed the report.
He picked up the phone and dialed the number of the head of the investigation team, who was speeding down the highway.
"This is Campbell. Have your convoy turn around immediately and report back to Harrisburg."
A hesitant voice came from the other end of the line, but Campbell cut off any attempt at an explanation.
"The reason is that during an administrative review, the State Government is suspending all disruptive enforcement actions against the entity in question to ensure procedural integrity. This is a direct order from the Governor’s office. Execute it now."
"An administrative review? But we..."
The person on the other end was still asking questions, but Campbell interrupted him.
"Execute the order."
Boggs stood before the desk, his face a mask of astonishment.
Campbell looked up, a rare flash of severity in his usually gentle eyes.
"Director Boggs, in my state, keeping the factories running is far more important than upholding some rigid financial regulations. As long as I haven’t signed it, this report belongs in the trash."
The Director never mentioned investigating Pittsburgh again.
Although he had publicly criticized Leo for being too radical and refused to sign the Mutual Aid Alliance bill, in his heart, he admired Leo.
He saw in the young man a savage, primitive, and reckless vitality.
’Perhaps it’s time to talk to him again.’
Campbell set down his glass.
Leo was doing what he himself wanted to do but couldn’t.
Campbell was old. He had been bound by the rules for too long.
The regulations, the red tape—they had slowly worn away his spirit.
They had ultimately become a cage, and Campbell had forgotten he once had wings.
That staid, bureaucratic style, while capable of maintaining stable development in a region, could never truly change a stagnant system.
To break the stalemate, to be reborn, what was needed was the fire of youth.
So he decided to contact Leo one more time.
...
The waters of the Susquehanna River flowed slow and murky, carrying silt from upstream as they traced a gray arc along the edge of Harrisburg.
This was a riverside park that few people ever visited.
The grass was withered and yellow, and the paint on the benches had peeled away, revealing the rusted iron frames beneath.
Bob Campbell sat on one of those benches.
He held two steaming cups of coffee in his hands, the rims of the paper cups slightly misshapen from his grip.
Leo Wallace approached from a path in the park.
He walked slowly, his hands in his pockets, one of them gripping the burner phone he used to contact Frank.
His muscles were tense, ready to react to a potential ambush at any moment.
Before coming here, he had already prepared for the worst.
Leo walked up to the bench.
Campbell didn’t turn around. He simply offered one of the coffees to the side.
"Sit."
Leo hesitated for a second, then sat down.
A distance of half a meter separated them, enough space for the chasm between two worlds.