Forging America: My Campaign Manager is Roosevelt

"And me..."

Leo smiled.

"I’m the one at the helm. If the ship is about to hit an iceberg, I have to be the only one who knows the exact time of impact."

Ethan looked at Leo, an indescribable bitterness welling up in his heart.

Leo’s growth was astonishingly fast. In less than two years, he had transformed from an idealistic community leader into a cold, calculating, and mature politician who knew how to exploit information gaps and human nature.

Ethan knew these were the rules of survival in Washington, the qualities everyone needed to survive in this gladiatorial arena.

It was just like his own years working alongside Sanders, never asking the Senator about his next moves before they were made public.

That was the duty of an aide, the self-awareness of a subordinate.

Perhaps it was because he had fought alongside Leo in this ruined city for so long, or perhaps because they had once shared a cold pizza in that drafty prefab house, but these experiences of going through thick and thin together had given him a false impression.

The illusion that they weren’t just superior and subordinate, but close partners who could talk about anything.

But Leo was, in the end, the Mayor—the leader with his hand on the helm.

And leaders were destined to be lonely.

He had to bear the darkest secrets alone, make decisions on the edge of a cliff by himself, unable to share that weight with anyone.

"Secrets are the core of power."

Roosevelt’s voice rang out in his mind.

"You’ve broken your secrets into different pieces and given them to different people."

"Only you grasp the complete picture."

"That is how you maintain control."

"Ethan is a good kid, but what we have to do is too radical."

"The best way to protect him is to keep him in the dark."

In the present, Leo pulled his hand back.

"Get back to work, Ethan."

Leo’s tone had returned to its usual calm.

"Go prepare for Luigi’s case, coordinate with the media, do what you do best."

Ethan clutched the documents in his hand.

"...Yes, Mr. Mayor."

Ethan said in a low voice.

He turned and walked out of the conference room.

RING-RING-RING—!!!

Leo’s phone suddenly rang. He answered it.

"This is Wallace."

John Murphy’s voice came from the other end of the line.

"It’s Murphy. Something urgent has come up in the Senate that I need to tell you about."

"What is it?"

"Just now, the Senate Majority Leader announced that a bill titled the ’Critical Infrastructure and Medical Personnel Security Protection Act’ has been added to next week’s emergency voting schedule."

"What is that?" Leo asked.

The word "medical" in the bill’s title made Leo feel that something was wrong.

Murphy gripped the freshly printed copy of the draft bill, flipping rapidly through the pages until his finger stopped on a clause written in bold.

"I’ve obtained a copy of the draft. It’s a national security bill targeting critical infrastructure, and its core provision redefines the scope of ’critical infrastructure personnel.’"

Murphy’s voice was filled with anxiety.

"Besides the usual personnel like doctors, nurses, and power grid engineers, they’ve also included the top executives of major health insurance corporations, arguing that the stability of the insurance system is directly related to national medical security."

Leo’s gaze turned cold in an instant.

He understood what this meant.

"Once this bill passes, Arthur Vance and the other insurance company CEOs will no longer be considered ordinary businessmen."

"They’ll be part of national security."

"They’ll be critical infrastructure."

Murphy continued, his tone growing heavier, "This means that the nature of any radical protest targeting these individuals will completely change."

"This is a law written specifically for the thousands upon thousands of potential Luigis of the future."

"An act like Luigi Randall’s will no longer be defined as a simple murder case, but as a terrorist attack against national security."

"They won’t need to go through a complicated trial process or require a jury verdict. As long as the Department of Homeland Security deems you a threat, they can invoke anti-terrorism clauses to arrest you directly."

Leo looked out the window.

The Pittsburgh night was still dark and deep.

Just moments ago, he had felt a sense of relief after persuading the mayors of the Industrial Revival Alliance.

He thought he had gained more leverage in the court of public opinion, but his opponents never intended to face him in court.

They had just rewritten the law itself.

"What about Sanders?" Leo asked. "He’s a Senator. Didn’t he try to stop it?"

"Daniel did his best."

Murphy sighed.

"He pounded the table in the committee meeting. He even threatened to filibuster again, but Leo, this time is different."

"The health care lobbying groups are too powerful."

"They mobilized all their resources. From what I know, the lobbyists on K Street have practically worn a path to Capitol Hill’s doorstep over the past week."

"They’ve bought off all the moderate Democrats. The Senators from swing states don’t dare to offend the insurance companies, because those companies hold the lifelines of the hospitals in their districts."

"As for the Republican Party, they’re giving it their full support. For them, it’s not just about protecting their donors; it’s a golden opportunity to strike at the radical left."

"We’re in the absolute minority on Capitol Hill."

"By my count, they already have over sixty votes. As soon as it goes to a floor vote, the bill is guaranteed to pass."

"And the vote is next week."

Leo fell silent.

This was an attack from another dimension.

He had used public opinion to fight capital, and in return, capital was using the law to fight public opinion.

When the rules weren’t in their favor, they simply changed the rules.

’Mr. President.’

Leo said in his mind.

’They’re cheating.’

"Of course," Roosevelt’s voice replied. "This is the very purpose of Washington. It’s a giant filter that turns the angry cries of the lower class into harmless noise, a firewall that quarantines any spark threatening the interests of the elite."

"They’re scared, Leo. Luigi’s gunshot terrified them."

"They’re afraid that if they don’t crush Luigi this time, thousands upon thousands of other Luigis will rise up tomorrow."

"So they have to pass a law, to define this kind of resistance as terrorism."

"But it doesn’t matter. Didn’t we already think of this? Tell Murphy our decision."

"John."

Leo spoke, his voice carrying an unprecedented ruthlessness.

"Since we can’t win playing by their rules."

"Since they can change the rules whenever they want to screw us over."

"Then we’ll flip the table, too."

"Flip the table?" Murphy’s voice trembled. "How? All we have is Pittsburgh. We don’t even have full control of Pennsylvania. What do we have to fight Washington with? Sue Congress for an unconstitutional law? That lawsuit would take years. Luigi can’t wait that long."

"Buy a plane ticket, John."

Leo said suddenly.

"A plane ticket?" Murphy’s voice was full of confusion. "To where? Are we fleeing the country? Leo, things haven’t gotten that bad yet..."

"We’re not leaving the country."

Leo straightened his collar.

"You’re going to the White House."

It took several seconds for Murphy to find his voice. "The White House? To see the President? You think he’ll see us? He’s probably trying to avoid us as it is."

"Besides, even if he did meet us, what then? You think he’d veto a Senate bill for our sake? That’s obviously impossible!"

"He will."

Leo said with conviction.

"If the price is right."

"And if the threat is big enough."

"John."

Leo lowered his voice.

"You’re already a Senator."

"But do your ambitions stop there?"

"Wouldn’t you like to... sit in that seat?"

"What seat?"

Murphy responded, subconsciously feeling that this was not good.

The feeling was very familiar.

The last time Leo spoke to him in this tone, he had just been a nice guy who wanted to coast in the House of Representatives until retirement.

And after that conversation, he’d been swept up onto the campaign trail for the Senate, dancing on a knife’s edge every day.

’What kind of pie-in-the-sky promise is this kid going to sell me now?’

"The President of the United States of America."

Leo enunciated the title, word by word.

"Leader of the Free World."

"The person whose finger is on the nuclear button, who can mobilize the largest army in human history with a single phone call."

"The person who sits behind the Resolute Desk, deciding the fate of the global order and the lives of billions."

"John, tell me."

"Have you never, late at night, fantasized that one day, that person could be you?"