The Allegany Mountain Summit Club.

The building, situated at the highest point in Pittsburgh, was brightly lit.

It overlooked the entire city, like a great beast perched on the summit, watching the twinkling lights below.

A year ago, the first time Leo had come here, he had arrived by taxi.

Back then, he had been stopped at the entrance by security and was only allowed in after a long process of being announced and waiting.

Today, things were completely different.

A black Lincoln sedan pulled right up to the club’s entrance.

As soon as the car door opened, the head of security, who had once been so cold and indifferent, was already standing beside the car, gesturing for them to enter with a humble smile on his face.

"Good evening, Mr. Mayor."

Leo nodded and strode into the club’s main hall.

Ethan Hawke followed behind him, carrying a briefcase.

An attendant led them through a long corridor, once again arriving at the familiar cigar lounge.

Just as Ethan was about to enter, the attendant raised a hand to stop him.

"My apologies, sir," the attendant said, his face expressionless. "Mr. Morganfield wishes to speak with the Mayor alone."

Ethan froze for a moment, then turned to look at Leo.

Leo took the briefcase from Ethan’s hands.

"Wait for me here, Ethan."

Leo patted him on the shoulder.

He took a deep breath, pushed the door open, and walked in alone.

Douglas Morganfield was sitting in the same familiar spot.

He was trimming an expensive Cuban cigar, his movements slow and deliberate.

Hearing the door open, Morganfield didn’t look up.

He continued what he was doing, positioning the silver cutter over the head of the cigar.

It was a habitual display of power, a way of deciding when the conversation would begin.

But Leo walked straight to the sofa opposite him.

He unbuttoned his suit jacket and sat down.

He leaned back, sinking into the soft cushions.

He crossed his legs and rested his hands casually on the armrests.

His movements were smooth and natural.

This change in posture was a language in itself.

Morganfield’s fingers, trimming the cigar, paused for a fraction of a second. But he didn’t speak, merely speeding up his movements and neatly clipping the cap.

He put down the cutter and blew away the clippings.

He raised his eyes, looking at Leo, who was already settled comfortably.

"Leo."

Morganfield’s voice betrayed no emotion.

"Douglas."

Leo replied calmly, looking him directly in the eye.

Morganfield’s hand paused as he was lighting his cigar, then resumed as if nothing had happened.

He took a drag from the cigar, exhaled a thick cloud of smoke, and studied Leo through the haze.

"You move fast, Leo."

"I saw the news. You scared that old coot Moretti witless with a few thousand maintenance requests, and then tied him completely to your war chariot with a budget that included a five-hundred-million-dollar bond."

"Brilliant."

Morganfield clapped his hands softly twice.

"Very imaginative, and very bold."

"Thank you."

Leo accepted the compliment.

He didn’t want to waste time on pleasantries.

"Since you already know the contents of the budget, you should also be aware that I’ve run into a new problem."

Leo opened his briefcase, took out the "Pittsburgh City Bond Issuance Proposal," and placed it on the coffee table in front of Morganfield.

"Five hundred million US dollars."

Leo pointed to the conspicuous number on the document’s cover.

"This money includes all the start-up capital for the first phase of the Inland Port expansion you’ve been dreaming of."

"Land leveling, river dredging, the laying of a dedicated railway line, and the foundation for that automated warehouse center."

"All the money is in here."

Leo leaned forward, staring into Morganfield’s eyes.

"As long as this bond is issued, your port dream can break ground within three months."

"What’s more, I’ve already settled things with Washington."

"Sanders is mobilizing Progressive funds and Union pension funds from all over the country to subscribe to this bond."

"The funding side of the problem—I’ve already solved it."

Morganfield picked up the document and casually flipped through a couple of pages.

Of course he knew all this.

"But."

Leo’s tone shifted.

"The accountants in Harrisburg, the ones with the sleeve protectors, are blocking the way."

"The Pennsylvania Department of Community and Economic Development has stalled our approval."

"They think Pittsburgh is a bankrupt with a record. They don’t believe we can pay back five hundred million US dollars."

Leo looked at Morganfield.

"Douglas, I need you."

"I need your promise—a legal commitment stamped with the official seal of the Morganfield Industrial Group."

Leo pulled a pre-drafted "Letter of Intent for a Third-Party Credit Enhancement Agreement" from his briefcase and pushed it in front of Morganfield.

"I need the Morganfield Industrial Group to act as a joint guarantor for this five-hundred-million-dollar municipal bond."

"This means that if the Pittsburgh City Government’s financial situation deteriorates in the future—if our tax revenue is insufficient to pay the bond’s interest or principal—then the Morganfield Industrial Group will unconditionally fulfill its obligation to pay on our behalf and act as our backstop."

"Only with this document in hand will those bureaucrats in Harrisburg believe that this money is absolutely safe."

The room fell silent.

The only sound was the soft sizzle of the burning cigar.

Morganfield set the document down.

He looked at Leo, a half-smile playing on his lips.

"Leo, you really know how to do business."

Morganfield flicked the ash from his cigar.