Just as Leo closed the black diary, sealing away the last vestiges of his weakness, a knock came at his office door.

"Come in."

Leo shoved the diary into a drawer and straightened his collar.

The door was pushed open.

Karen Miller walked in.

She was wearing a sharply tailored beige cashmere coat over a dark business suit and carried a well-made leather briefcase.

Her hair was freshly styled, her makeup exquisite and flawless.

She looked radiant, her presence powerful.

She had changed.

Or rather, she had returned to the way she was always meant to be.

She was no longer the temporary consultant who had rolled through the mud with Leo and eaten cold pizza in a trailer.

Her current title was Campaign Manager for John Murphy.

The commander who was about to orchestrate a statewide election campaign involving tens of millions of US dollars, one that would determine the political landscape of Pennsylvania.

"Good morning, Mr. Mayor."

Karen walked to the desk but didn’t sit down. Instead, she first looked around the office.

Her gaze swept over the bare walls, over the stone-cold coffee by Leo’s hand, and finally rested on Leo’s pale face, bundled in a thick coat.

"It looks like you’ve settled into your new role," Karen said with a smile. "Though for a place with the heat cranked up like a sauna, you still look like a corpse that just crawled out of an icebox."

"Still haven’t gotten over this cold." Leo pointed to the sofa opposite him. "Have a seat, Karen. Or should I be calling you Director Miller now?"

Karen raised an eyebrow and sat down.

She placed her briefcase on her lap, her hands folded on top of it.

"So, your team is ready?" Leo asked, his voice hoarse.

Karen looked at Leo, her expression complex.

"To be honest, Leo."

"I’ve worked by John’s side for ten years, watching him settle into his comfort zone in Washington."

"I always thought he’d stay in that position until he retired. He’s a good man, but he lacks a gambler’s ruthlessness, and he lacks the ambition to stand in the very center of the spotlight."

"He’s used to being a supporting actor, used to following the Whip’s orders."

Karen paused, leaning forward slightly.

"I never thought that one day he’d have the guts to challenge for a Senator’s seat, to challenge that political golden boy from Philadelphia."

"You’re the one who instigated this."

Karen’s tone was certain, leaving no room for doubt.

"Or to be more precise, you forced him to the edge of a cliff."

"You used five hundred million US dollars in bonds as bait and Pittsburgh’s votes as a whip. You brutally flogged a docile old ox until it became a man-eating lion."

Karen looked at Leo as if he were a monster.

"You’re not just the Mayor of Pittsburgh, Leo. You’re half a Kingmaker now."

"If John actually wins, you’ll be the one who put him on the throne."

Leo picked up his cup and took a sip of hot water.

The warmth flowed down his throat, soothing the sharp pain in his lungs.

"A Kingmaker?"

Leo shook his head.

"Don’t flatter me, Karen."

"People have to grow up sometime. It’s time for Murphy to make an effort."

Hearing the words "grow up," Karen almost spat out the sip of coffee she had just taken. She couldn’t help but laugh out loud.

"Leo, John is sixty-two years old." Karen put down her cup, a playful look in her eyes. "You expect an old man who’s spent twenty years on Capitol Hill, whose hairline has receded to the top of his head, to ’grow up’? That sounds like a bad joke only you could tell."

"Can’t be helped. It’s his bad luck he ran into me."

Leo shrugged, but his eyes were clear and sober.

"After all, in my position, I’m walking a tightrope every day. If he doesn’t climb higher, if he doesn’t hold more power, how is he supposed to cover for me?"

Karen’s smile faded. She looked at Leo seriously and nodded slowly.

"I don’t doubt that," she said. "Even in Washington, I’ve heard plenty of rumors about your talent for stirring up trouble."

Leo spread his hands.

"So, I’m just protecting myself."

"If he doesn’t become a Senator, I’ll have to face the potshots from Harrisburg and Washington all by myself. I need a bigger umbrella, and since I can’t buy one on the market, I have to make one myself."

Leo looked at Karen and said, seemingly casually, "Ambition is like a dormant virus. It exists inside every politician."

"Murphy’s never had a flare-up before because his environment was too comfortable, his immune system too strong."

"And I... I was the trigger that activated the virus."

"I coughed on him, and he got sick. Terribly sick. And there’s no cure except the antidote of power."

Karen looked at Leo’s calm face and sighed internally.

’This young man is terrifying.’

’He speaks of using people so openly, so righteously, that it almost makes you feel like being used by him is an honor.’

"Alright, enough small talk."

Karen opened her briefcase and took out a document.

"Since you’ve already pushed him to the edge of the cliff, we have to make sure he flies, not falls to his death."

"This is our campaign schedule."

Karen handed the document to Leo.

"The Vice Governor from Philadelphia, Murphy’s rival in the primary, that guy Aston Monroe—he’s already making his move."

"He’s held three huge rallies in Philadelphia. Even Hollywood stars showed up. They were big events."

"His poll numbers are rising."

"We have to act immediately. We can’t let him seize all the momentum."

Leo opened the file.

It was a detailed battle plan.

From fundraising dinner guest lists to a roadmap for the speaking tour, to ad strategies targeting different voter demographics, it had everything.

’Karen really is a top-tier professional.’

"First stop." Karen pointed to the first line in the document. "Pittsburgh."

"John’s roots are here. This is his home base, and it’s our ironclad voter base that we have to defend."

"We need an opening show that will shake the entire state."

"We need an image, a powerful image that can visually represent progress, jobs, and the future of Pennsylvania."

"We need to tell the voters of this state that John Murphy doesn’t just cast votes—he builds things."

Karen looked at Leo.

"We’ve chosen the location: the site reserved for the Inland Port expansion project."

Leo’s eyes shifted.

It was currently a wasteland, overgrown with weeds and piled high with abandoned shipping containers.

"There’s nothing there," Leo said.

"That’s exactly what we want," Karen replied. "Desolation is the best canvas."

"I’ve already contacted the PR team at Morganfield. They’ll coordinate with us."

"We’re going to bring in twenty massive crawler cranes. They can’t do any actual work yet, but just having them standing there will be a symbol of industrial power."

"We’ll use a few hundred brand-new shipping containers to build a huge backdrop wall on the empty lot."

"John will stand in the shadow of those steel behemoths, in the cold wind blowing off the Monongahela River, and deliver his campaign announcement speech."

Karen’s voice was filled with excitement.

"He’s going to tell the workers of Pennsylvania that he’s brought investment, that he’s brought five hundred million US dollars in cold, hard cash, and that he’s brought thousands of new jobs."

"He’s going to point to that wasteland and tell everyone: This will be the starting point of Pennsylvania’s revival. And he is the one who will light the fuse."

Leo pictured the scene in his mind.

’It certainly would have an impact.’

’It was hardcore industrial aesthetics—exactly the kind of thing Rust Belt voters would eat up.’

’Compared to Aston Monroe from Philadelphia, holding a glass of red wine and pontificating in a hotel ballroom, Murphy standing under the cranes would clearly look more like a man who gets things done.’

"When?" Leo asked.

"Fourteen days from now."

Karen gave him a precise date.

Leo calculated the time.

His pupils contracted slightly.

"Fourteen days..."

"That’s right," Karen nodded. "Which also happens to be ten days after the twenty-day statutory public notice period for your five hundred million dollars in bonds ends."

"Why wait the extra ten days?"

"Because of procedure," Karen explained. "Those extra ten days are to give the bureaucrats in Harrisburg and Washington time to complete the final administrative processes."

"We have to ensure that the moment Murphy opens his mouth, the money is already sitting in City Hall’s account, with no possibility of any changes."

This was a meticulously calculated gamble.

A twenty-day public notice period, plus a ten-day buffer.

During the remaining four days of the notice period, any legal objection or administrative intervention could cause the bond issuance to fail.

If the bonds couldn’t be issued, the five hundred million US dollars would become a bad check.

If Murphy stood on that construction site and announced the start of work while pointing at thin air, he’d become a laughingstock across the entire state.

His campaign would be socially dead on arrival.

"You’re gambling," Leo said, looking at Karen. "What if the bonds get held up? What if Harrisburg changes its mind?"

"That’s your problem, Mr. Mayor."

Karen closed her briefcase.

"John has bet his political life on you."

"He trusts you to handle it."

"These five hundred million US dollars must become available funds in this account before midnight, fourteen days from now."

"If the funds haven’t arrived by the next morning..."

"...then John’s speech will have to be rewritten, and he’ll most likely have to slink back to Washington and go on being a Representative."

Karen stood up.

"We have no way out, Leo."

"Murphy is already the underdog, and time is tight. If we don’t fire this shot, we’ll just be waiting to be slaughtered."

Leo leaned back in his chair.

He felt that familiar pressure.

The feeling of an adrenaline rush before a high-stakes gamble.

Four days left.

In those four days, he had to ensure that there were no slip-ups.

"I understand."

Leo sat up straight.

"Tell John to get his speech ready."

"I’ll make sure that when the sun rises that day, the air on that land smells of money."

"Good," Karen nodded.

She turned and walked to the door.

When she reached the door, she stopped and looked back at Leo.

"Oh, one more thing."

"Aston Monroe has been telling the media recently that the young Mayor of Pittsburgh is a disrupter who doesn’t know the rules."

"He said that if he becomes Senator, he’ll teach you a thing or two about Pennsylvania’s political etiquette."

Leo smiled.

"I look forward to it."

"But before he teaches me etiquette, I suggest he first learn how to breathe in the mud."

"Because this next fight won’t be fought in a ballroom."

"We’re going to drag him down into the mud."

Karen smiled.

She pushed open the door and left.

The office fell silent once more.

Leo took out his phone and glanced at the calendar.

A four-day countdown.

The final hurdle.

If the battles before were against people, then these last four days were a battle against probability, against luck, and against the unseen undercurrents.

’Mr. President,’ Leo said in his mind, ’Looks like we don’t have time to rest.’

"Rest?"

Roosevelt’s voice was filled with a thirst for battle.

"There’s plenty of time to rest in the grave."

"Now, let’s go check our defenses."

"I have a feeling that in these last four days, someone’s not ready to give up just yet."

"Someone still wants to throw a rat into this pot of stew that’s just about ready to serve."