Chapter 565 - 265: An Era That Needs No Good People
He had operated in this state for decades. He understood power, he understood balance, and he understood when to be ruthless.
But he wasn’t a butcher.
He looked at an intelligence brief on his desk.
It was a secret report from the state police, detailing the current situation in Pittsburgh and other cities within the Industrial Revival Alliance.
Workers had organized picket lines, and self-defense groups had been established in the communities.
If the State Government truly sent in troops for a forced takeover, it wouldn’t be a simple dispersal. It would be a bloody conflict.
Pennsylvania would fall into chaos.
Factories would shut down, schools would close, and it might even trigger a statewide general strike.
He didn’t want to see any of it happen.
His original plan was to smoothly serve out his final term as Governor, sign his name on a record of economic recovery, and then go to Washington to join the cabinet.
He didn’t want the stain of "suppressed the workers" on his record.
He admitted it: Leo Wallace was a problem, an ambitious madman.
But he was also the only person who could build something great from this mess.
He saw Leo’s ambition. It meant an inevitable confrontation, a rupture between the old order and the new.
But he wanted to leave this problem for his successor.
’Just drag it out.’
Campbell had once told himself.
’If I can just stall until Washington’s attention shifts elsewhere, maybe this will all die down on its own.’
But now, Washington didn’t want him to stall anymore.
Cres’s order was like a gun pressed to his forehead.
"Marcus."
Campbell finally spoke, his voice sounding old and weary.
"You’re not on the ground."
"You don’t understand the situation here."
"Leo’s power is immense now, beyond what you can imagine. He’s not just a Mayor; he’s the spiritual leader for all the workers in Western Pennsylvania."
"If I move against him with force now, if I send the National Guard into Pittsburgh..."
"Pennsylvania will erupt into civil war."
Campbell’s fingers traced invisible patterns on his desk.
"I can’t open fire on unarmed workers."
"And I can’t be the one to personally destroy their only hope."
A sneer came from the other end of the line.
"Hope?"
Cres’s voice was dripping with sarcasm.
"Bob, don’t forget who gave them that hope."
"You’re the one who let him become what he is, aren’t you?"
"You’re the one who tacitly allowed Leo to grow so powerful. You’re the one who gave his revival plan the green light for the sake of your political record. You’re the one who kept compromising with him for the sake of so-called stability."
Campbell was speechless.
He opened his mouth, but no words came out.
Yes, it was him.
He was the one who, step by step, had allowed Leo’s excesses to reach this point.
"Give me some time, Marcus."
Campbell’s voice dropped.
"Give me another month... no, two weeks."
"I’ll try to talk to him."
"Maybe we can find a peaceful solution."
BEEP—
The line went dead.
Cres hadn’t even waited to hear his last sentence.
Campbell sat there, stunned, the receiver still in his hand.
He knew what this meant.
...
「Washington, Democratic National Committee Headquarters.」
Marcus Crassus threw his phone onto the table.
He scanned the faces of everyone in the conference room.
Montoya, Walker, and the other senior advisors.
"Did you hear that?"
Cres’s voice was cold.
"He wants to be a good guy."
"He wants to play the benevolent father on a kill-or-be-killed battlefield."
The conference room fell silent.
Everyone understood. For someone at the center of power, "wanting to be a good guy" was the greatest original sin.
In this position, a conscience was a luxury, a burden, a fatal weakness.
"Then we have no choice."
Montoya sighed, closing a file on the Pennsylvania situation that was in his hands.
"Campbell can’t be trusted anymore."
"He’s lost his decisiveness as a commander. He’s been taken hostage by his own morality, shackled by local sentiment."
"If we don’t replace him, we’re really going to lose Pennsylvania."
"Then what do we do?"
Marcus Crassus looked anxious.
"He’s only just started this term. The next scheduled election is a long way off."
"And he’s an elected Governor. We don’t have the authority to remove him directly."
"Unless..."
A cold glint flashed in Montoya’s eyes.
It was a chilling light, the kind of killing intent honed through countless political purges.
"What if the Governor were to resign for health reasons?"
Montoya said slowly.
"Or what if he were to suddenly get caught up in some kind of irreversible scandal?"
"Corruption, for example. An affair. Or some old skeletons being dragged out of the closet."
"As long as he’s unable to perform his duties, or is forced to resign."
Montoya looked at Cres.
"Then, according to the Pennsylvania Constitution, the Vice Governor automatically takes over."
Everyone’s eyes lit up.
The Vice Governor.
Aston Monroe.
The political golden boy from Philadelphia. The ambitious man who had been humiliated by Leo, suppressed by Murphy, and was now brimming with a rage that had nowhere to go.
"Monroe is an ambitious man."
Cres nodded, his fingers tapping lightly on the tabletop.
"And because of the Murphy campaign, his relationship with Leo is terrible. They’re practically mortal enemies."
"He despises that whole Pittsburgh crowd."
"We won’t need to teach him what to do. Just give him the power, and he’ll make the move himself."
"He’ll be the perfect weapon."
Cres made his final ruling.
"Contact Monroe."
"Tell him Washington appreciates the patience he’s shown while enduring such humiliations."
"Tell him that as long as he can resolve the chaos in Pennsylvania, as long as he can take care of that problem named Leo..."
"...the Party will give him its full support to take power early."
"We’ll give him funding, resources, everything he wants."
"As for Campbell..."
Cres glanced out the window.
"Let him rest."
"This era has no place for good men."