"How do we test him?"

"We give him bad news, not good news."

Leo pointed at the phone on the desk.

"Right now, in front of me, you’re going to call Sanders."

"Tell him the bad news: Pittsburgh’s finances are about to explode."

Murphy was taken aback. "What? Leo, if we tell him that now, won’t it just make us look incompetent?"

"That’s the point. We need to look incompetent, even desperate."

Leo’s gaze sharpened.

"Tell him that the strategy of encouraging citizens to sue the government, while it forced Moretti to back down, has had massive repercussions. The potential claims have already exceeded fifty million US Dollars."

"If we can’t find a way to cover this, the Pittsburgh City Government will face bankruptcy within three months."

"Once we go bankrupt, not only will we be unable to provide any financial support for next year’s midterm elections, but Pittsburgh will become a massive political black hole for the Democratic Party in Pennsylvania."

"We need to paint ourselves as a ticking time bomb."

Murphy’s hand trembled slightly. He couldn’t understand this suicidal approach to communication.

"Why?"

"To observe his reaction."

Leo stared into Murphy’s eyes, speaking one word at a time.

"Listen to his tone."

"If he hears this news and just sighs helplessly, or gives you some tired, bureaucratic lines like ’That’s unfortunate,’ ’You’ll have to figure it out yourselves,’ or ’Washington can’t help right now,’ and then quickly hangs up, then there’s still hope."

Murphy was stunned. "Doesn’t that just mean he’s given up on us? Isn’t that the worst-case scenario?"

Leo replied, "No, John, you’re wrong. That would prove he hasn’t made any backroom deals with the Establishment Faction regarding Pennsylvania."

"It means that on his chessboard, Pittsburgh isn’t a piece he absolutely has to save. He isn’t counting on us to play a decisive role in the midterms. This means he doesn’t need our votes to trade for some benefit over in Philadelphia."

"As long as he hasn’t sold us out, we have a chance to turn this around."

"Then, we tell him about the five-hundred-million-US-Dollar bond plan. We tell him not only can we save ourselves, but we can help him win. The contrast, from disappointment to pleasant surprise, will make him throw his full support behind us."

Leo paused, his eyes instantly turning sharp.

"But."

"If he flies into a rage."

"If he starts getting angry, roaring down the phone, cursing up a storm, damning the Establishment Faction, and even calls you incompetent to your face."

"If he yells something like, ’You’ve ruined the big picture for the midterms!’ or ’You have to hold the line!’"

Murphy instinctively flinched. "Doesn’t that mean he cares about us?"

"That means he’s already sold us out."

Roosevelt’s voice and Leo’s voice overlapped.

"Only when a man considers something his private property, an asset to be traded, will he become hysterical with rage when it gets damaged."

"It would mean he’s already reached some sort of understanding with the Establishment Faction in Philadelphia and Washington. In his plan, Pittsburgh was supposed to be an obedient vote bank, a tool for delivering benefits."

"If he’s furious, it means our financial crisis has ruined his grand strategy."

"And that would mean he’s no longer our backer," Leo said coldly. "We’d have to be ready to hang up the phone and turn on him completely."

Murphy looked at Leo.

He found he understood this young man less and less.

’This feeling started back during the primary for Representative. Back then, everyone thought Cortes was unstoppable. Even I was preparing for retirement. But Leo destroyed him. His methods were precise, cold, and left no room for escape. And now, those methods are becoming more mature, more terrifying. He doesn’t just scheme against his opponents; he schemes against his own allies, even a political heavyweight like Sanders.’

’This way of calculating human nature to its very core... it’s terrifying. But it also gives me a strange sense of security. In this political swamp teeming with crocodiles, maybe the only way to survive is to follow someone more vicious and cunning than the crocodiles themselves.’

"Alright."

Murphy took a deep breath and picked up the phone on the desk.

He dialed Sanders’s number.

Leo gestured for him to press the speakerphone button.

BEEP... BEEP...

The ringing tone seemed to stretch on forever in the quiet office.

"Hello?"

Sanders’s voice came through, sounding a bit tired. There was a clamor of voices in the background, as if he were on his way to a venue.

"Senator, it’s Murphy."

"John? You’re in Pittsburgh? What is it? Make it quick, I only have two minutes." Sanders spoke rapidly.

Murphy glanced at Leo.

Leo nodded at him and made an "explosion" gesture with his hands.

Murphy gritted his teeth and said in a voice filled with deep pain and anxiety, "Senator, we have a major disaster on our hands."

"Pittsburgh’s finances... they might not make it to the end of the year."

The other end of the line went silent.

The background noise seemed to disappear as well, perhaps because Sanders had covered the receiver.

"What did you just say?" Sanders’s voice was low.

Murphy, following Leo’s script, began to lament.

"That public notification strategy Leo came up with to force Moretti’s hand... it triggered a chain reaction. Now, lawyers all over the city are suing the City Government. The amount they’re claiming is astronomical."