Chapter 687 - 322: Please, Survive
William pulled a stack of crumpled envelopes from his pocket and tossed them onto Leo’s blanket.
"Look, these are from the old ladies and kids who insisted I take them. Someone even shoved a few hard-boiled eggs at me, said they were for you to get your strength back."
William picked up an egg, peeled it, and took a bite himself.
"Not bad."
He mumbled, chewing on the egg.
"Honestly, Leo, I’m a little jealous of you."
"I’m the Governor. I’ve signed so many documents, but in their eyes, I’m just a mailman."
"They don’t care about me at all."
"They only care about you."
There wasn’t much real jealousy in William’s tone, more a simple confusion and sense of being wronged.
He had lived a life of privilege, used to being surrounded by admirers and sycophants.
But he had never received this kind of fanatical adoration from the common people.
He didn’t understand this kind of emotion.
But he could feel its weight.
Leo looked at William, then glanced at Evelyn.
"William,"
Leo began.
"do you know why?"
"Why?" William asked.
"Because I bled."
Leo pointed to his wound.
"You sit in your comfortable office, sign some papers, and drink coffee. Your suits are always clean, and your hands are always soft."
"But I’m different."
"Because I took a bullet for them."
"Acquiring power means changing the status quo, and changing the status quo requires a force capable of shattering the old equilibrium."
"In this world, power comes from many sources. Money can buy influence—that’s a purchase. A bloodline can pass down a name—that’s luck. The law can grant you a title—that’s procedure."
Leo stared at William, his gaze carrying an oppressive weight that was foreign to the Governor.
"All these things can get you power, but none of them are stable."
"Money depreciates with inflation. Laws can be twisted at will by the powerful. And bloodlines become worthless in the tides of time."
"The most resilient kind of power is the one bought with blood."
"Only by bleeding can you earn irreversible, genuine change."
"When you place your own flesh and life on the scales as your wager, in that moment, you form a symbiotic bond with your constituents—one of flesh and blood. They’ll feel that if you’re willing to die for them, then they’re willing to live for you."
William listened, looking somewhat lost.
His mind, accustomed to contemplating party themes and suit fabrics, struggled to comprehend this bloody political logic.
He was simply stunned by the sheer force of Leo’s presence as he spoke.
It felt like sitting on the edge of an erupting volcano—dangerous, yet impossible to look away from.
William nodded, not quite understanding, and subconsciously scooted his chair back a little.
"That sounds... really cool," William said with a dry laugh, putting his sunglasses back on. "But I still think that kind of power is too heavy. I much prefer signing a document and then having a glass of champagne. Bleeding... I’ll leave that to people like you."
William patted the back of Leo’s hand.
"Evelyn, we have to go. I have an appointment with an art consultant. Leo, don’t die. If you die, I honestly have no idea how to deal with all those people covered in coal dust."
"Alright, visiting hours are over."
Evelyn stood up.
"The doctor said you need to rest. Besides, I have a few important calls to make."
She leaned in close to Leo, stooping down to whisper in his ear.
"Rest well, my Mayor."
Evelyn straightened up.
"William, let’s go."
"On my way!"
William hurried to catch up, not forgetting to swipe an apple from the fruit basket on his way out.
"Leo, that apple looks good. I’ll test it for you."
Ethan escorted the two of them out of the hospital room.
The door closed.
The room fell silent once more.
Leo lay in bed, looking at the enormous bouquet of roses, then at the pile of crumpled letters.
He reached out and picked up a letter.
The envelope was stained with grease, the handwriting crooked and messy.
He opened it.
Inside was a child’s drawing.
It depicted a small figure in a suit, holding a shield and blocking a swarm of monsters.
Beneath it, a line was written in a childish scrawl:
"Thank you, Mr. Mayor. You’re Superman."
Leo stared at the drawing, a sudden warmth welling up in his eyes.
He placed the drawing on his chest and closed his eyes.
He wasn’t sure how much time had passed before he fell asleep.
In his dream, he saw a world without monsters.
The sky was blue, and the water was clear.
A child was sitting on the grass, smiling at him.