The fury in Washington was still brewing, but the court of public opinion in Pittsburgh had already erupted.

Previously, whenever Leo Wallace’s name appeared in the news, he was invariably met with a deluge of vitriol from the conservative media.

But today, it seemed the sun had risen in the west.

Leo sat in his office, watching the news channel Ethan had just turned on.

On the screen, a conservative pundit known for his venomous tongue was facing the camera, wearing a smile that could even be described as "benevolent."

"Ladies and gentlemen, today we have no choice but to praise a Democrat." 𝕗𝐫𝐞𝕖𝕨𝐞𝗯𝚗𝕠𝘃𝐞𝚕.𝐜𝗼𝚖

The host spread his hands theatrically.

"Yes, you heard that right. Although Leo Wallace is a radical leftist, and although his economic policies are an outright disaster, just a few days ago, this young Mayor of Pittsburgh did something that even those hypocrites in Washington wouldn’t dare to do."

A huge headline appeared at the bottom of the screen: *A Democrat Finally Admits: The Government is Trash.*

"He pointed at the city hall building and told everyone: Our bureaucracy is passing the buck, our council is playing political games, and our government can’t even fix a single pothole."

The host pounded the table excitedly.

"This is the truth! This is the plain truth we Republicans have been talking about for decades! Mayor Wallace has proven it with his own experience—even a leftist who wants to get things done will be driven mad by the massive, bloated, and corrupt bureaucratic machine that the Democratic Party itself built."

"Well done, Leo. While I don’t agree with your ideology, I admire your honesty. You’re much better than those old politicians who talk a big game about righteousness and morality but only know how to raise taxes behind everyone’s backs."

Ethan held the remote, his gaze on Leo incredibly complicated.

He wanted to tell Leo about Washington’s true stance. He wanted to tell him that the current situation was no longer just an internal struggle in Pittsburgh, but something affecting the entire Democratic Party’s prospects in the midterm elections.

But looking at Leo’s calm face, he swallowed the words that were on the tip of his tongue.

Leo, however, stared at the screen with a steely gaze.

"They’re roasting me over an open fire."

"Correct."

Roosevelt’s voice echoed in Leo’s mind.

"They are trying to strip you away from the Democratic Party’s ranks."

"When your enemies start applauding you, it often means you’re hurting your own side."

Leo turned off the TV.

This praise from his opponents was more lethal than Moretti’s obstruction.

It would cost him his legitimacy within the party, turning him into a complete political orphan.

But he couldn’t worry about that now.

Because once Pandora’s box was opened, what flew out was not just disaster, but also a carnival.

A city-wide carnival that completely shattered political apathy.

The atmosphere on the streets of Pittsburgh was changing.

Usually, outside of an election year, the average citizen had no interest in the tedious budget squabbles happening in City Hall.

No one cared who fixed the potholes, and no one cared who approved the funding.

Politics was boring. It was soporific.

But "the Mayor helping a janitor sue the government"?

That was just too exciting.

It was filled with dramatic tension, overflowing with the kind of individual heroism you only see in Hollywood blockbusters.

The first to join the frenzy were the legal circles of Pittsburgh.

The personal injury lawyers, who would normally fight tooth and nail over a single car accident case, suddenly found a massive pie had fallen from the sky.

And the Mayor himself was feeding it to them.

On Grant Street, several paralegals in cheap suits were frantically handing out flyers.

Leo looked out the window at the scene below.

The flyers were crudely designed, a visually jarring combination of bright red and yellow.

At the very top of the flyer was a photo of Leo angrily denouncing City Hall at the press conference.

Below it was a line in bold, black text:

"Pothole on the road? Car damaged? Injured from a fall?"

"Don’t just chalk it up to bad luck! The Mayor is telling you to come get your money!"

"According to the Pennsylvania Political Subdivision Tort Claims Act, you have the right to claim compensation from the City Council! No matter the amount, no matter how long ago! As long as you were injured in a public area, we can help you get your money back!"

"First consultation is free! No win, no fee!"

These lawyers became Leo’s most unexpected, and most effective, ground promotion team.

For the sake of their own commissions, they conveyed Leo’s political intentions to every citizen in the most easily understood and provocative way possible.

They translated obscure legal documents into the most straightforward temptations of profit.

If the lawyers’ frenzy was tinged with self-interest, the buzz on the internet had become a full-blown subcultural feast for the younger generation.

Sarah pushed open the door and walked in, holding a tablet.

The expression on her face was complicated—a mix of excitement and the urge to both laugh and cry.

"Boss, you have to see this."

Sarah handed the tablet to Leo.

"We’ve blown up on social media. Not the kind of discussion sparked by policy, but... memes."

Leo took the tablet.

On the screen was an image going viral on X and TikTok.

It was a photo of Thomas Moretti holding an Italian meatball sandwich, his mouth smeared with tomato sauce.

No one knew who took the photo; perhaps it was leaked by some intern who secretly snapped it.

But now, it was the laughingstock of the entire internet.

Someone had Photoshopped Moretti into a picture of a fire.

In the background was a blazing building, with firefighters running and victims weeping.

And there was Moretti in the foreground, apathetically eating his sandwich.

The caption was just one line:

"City Council: This is a fire emergency."

"Moretti: This is a delicious sandwich."

Leo swiped the screen.

Next.

Moretti was sitting on the bow of the Titanic, still holding that same sandwich, with the iceberg it was about to hit in the background.

Caption: "Mayor: There’s an iceberg ahead!"

"Moretti: We need to form an iceberg verification task force and review it for half a year first."

This deconstructionist humor, mocking authority, spread like a virus through young people’s phones.

The memes about Leo, however, had a completely different style.

That photo of him furiously pointing at the pothole had been turned into all sorts of reaction images.

Leo pointing at the pothole, his expression furious.

Caption: "This is the future we’re headed for."

There was another one that Photoshopped Leo into an action hero, wearing sunglasses and not looking back at an explosion behind him.

The background was a collapsing City Hall, and in his hand, Leo held a lawsuit with the title: "I’m suing myself."

In the comments, the young people were ecstatic.

"It’s chaotic, but this is so cool."

"This is the kind of Mayor we want! When he goes crazy, he even takes himself on!"

"I never used to care about politics, but this season of *Pittsburgh Storm* is better than any Netflix show."

"Punk. This is definitely cyberpunk."

Sarah looked at Leo and pointed to the data.

"The party elites are cursing us, and the people in Washington have probably lost their minds."

"But, Leo, your approval rating among voters under thirty-five hasn’t dropped because of this chaos. In fact, it’s gone up by five percentage points."

"They think you’re authentic."

"They feel you’ve shattered that hypocritical decorum."

"You’ve become a kind of... anti-hero."

Leo looked at the absurd images, at the comments filled with mockery.

He just felt a profound sense of absurdity.

He was engaged in a serious political battle to fix the roads, to secure benefits for the elderly and children, and for the very survival of this city.

But refracted through the lens of the internet, it had all turned into one giant entertainment spectacle.

People were laughing, sharing, and liking.

Did they really care about Mary Gaiter, who broke her leg? Did they really care about the stalled revitalization plan?

"Don’t be so hard on yourself, Leo."

Roosevelt’s voice chimed in at the right moment, tinged with a bit of reassurance.

"In this age of amusing ourselves to death, just being noticed is a form of power in itself."

"You’ve broken through the political apathy."

"You’ve made young people, who would normally shy away from the doors of City Hall, start to feel like all of this has something to do with them."

"It may seem comical, but this is modern-day mobilization."

Leo put down the tablet.

He stood up and walked to the window.

Down below on Grant Street, a few lawyers were still stuffing flyers into the hands of passersby.

Farther away, a few young people were holding up their phones, taking selfies in front of the City Hall building, mimicking Leo’s pose of pointing at the pothole.

Chaos.

It was truly chaotic.

He had thrown the entire political order of Pittsburgh into disarray with his wild haymakers.

But he could feel that beneath this chaotic surface, a new order was beginning to sprout.

Cracks had appeared in Moretti’s iron-clad defenses.

The long-suppressed voices were now gushing out through these cracks.

"Alright."

Leo straightened his tie.

"Since they think this is cool,"

"Then we’ll keep being cool."

"Ethan, prepare the second batch of lawsuit materials."

"Sarah, launch a campaign on social media. Call it ’Snap a Pothole Near You’."

"Have the citizens take pictures of every hazard they find, upload them online, and tag Council President Moretti."

"We’re going to turn this carnival into a flood that drowns them."

Leo turned to face his team.

He no longer worried about Washington’s reaction, nor did he fear the accusations from within his own party.

Because he held the most powerful weapon of all.

The public’s attention.

As long as the spotlight was on him, as long as people were still talking about him, still sharing his memes.

He was invincible.

「At this very moment.」

A black sedan was speeding away from Pittsburgh International Airport, heading toward City Hall.

In the back seat sat Representative John Murphy, his face ashen.

Just before boarding his flight, he had been on the phone trying to smooth things over for Leo with Sanders.

But then, a call came in from the House Whip, Montoya.

The call consisted of nothing but a torrent of questions and warnings, and Montoya had sent him several reports from right-wing media outlets directly to his phone.

Only then did Murphy realize the gravity of the situation.

He looked at his phone screen.

On X’s trending list, the hashtag #MayorSuesHimself was still skyrocketing in popularity.

News anchors were hailing Leo as a "hero exposing the incompetence of the leftist government," while young people online were reveling in it, deconstructing this serious political crisis into countless comical memes.

"They’re insane," Murphy seethed through gritted teeth. "They’ve all gone insane."

He knew he was coming here to put out the fire.

But deep down, even he wasn’t sure.

Could this wildfire, which had already scorched the entire city, still be extinguished?