"We’re finished."

Ethan slumped into his chair, his head in his hands.

"This is a government default. We’re going to be the shortest-lived administration in Pennsylvania’s history."

Leo frowned, a flicker of displeasure rising in him as he looked at his panicked chief of staff.

"Ethan, calm down." Leo’s voice grew heavier. "We faced worse situations during the campaign. We had nothing back then, and we still pulled through, didn’t we? Now we control City Hall, we hold power. Why are you losing your nerve now?"

Ethan lifted his head, his eyes vacant, his voice laced with despair.

"Leo, this time is different."

"Procedurally, there are remedies. We can request an administrative hearing."

"But do you know how long that takes?"

"According to the law, we have to submit a written request for a hearing to Harrisburg within fifteen days of receiving the notice."

"Then, the State Community and Economic Development Department will schedule the hearing within thirty days of receiving the application."

"The hearing itself can last anywhere from a few days to a few weeks. The hearing officer will then write a recommended decision within sixty days after the hearing concludes."

"If the Secretary of the State Community and Economic Development Department adopts the recommendation, it takes another fifteen days to issue a final administrative decision."

Ethan spread his hands in despair.

"Do the math, Leo."

"Even if everything goes smoothly, we’re looking at three months from now."

"By then, the midterm primary will be long over, and Representative Murphy will be dead in the water. And Pittsburgh’s finances will have already collapsed into bankruptcy."

"Aston Monroe doesn’t need to win this case. He just needs to delay us. Even a two-month delay will break our cash flow. We’ll self-destruct in the chaos."

This was a murder by timetable.

Leo stood up and walked over to the map in his office.

His gaze shifted back and forth between Pittsburgh, Harrisburg, and Philadelphia.

He was out of cards.

Sanders could solve the funding source, but he couldn’t get past Pennsylvania’s administrative approval process. That was Aston Monroe’s territory.

Roosevelt’s voice spoke up.

’This isn’t just your election. Call Murphy and his team. Solve this problem together.’

Before Leo could call Murphy, his phone rang. It was him.

Leo took a deep breath, filling his lungs, then slowly exhaled, trying to force himself into a state of absolute calm.

He answered the call.

"Leo!"

John Murphy’s roar exploded in Leo’s ear.

"Did you see it? Goddammit! Did you see that document?!"

"The suspension order from the State Community and Economic Development Department! Oh my god, we’re completely finished!"

"Where the hell did that damned ’Logistics Fairness Alliance’ come from? And what’s with that article flying all over the place? Didn’t you tell me you’d already handled Morganfield? Didn’t you say everything was under control?"

Murphy was like a chicken with its head cut off, incoherently venting his terror.

His voice was trembling, filled with the primal fear of his political career coming to an end.

He had bet everything he had, only to find that the house was not only taking his chips but was also about to throw him out of the casino.

Leo didn’t interrupt him.

He just held the receiver quietly, letting the words—filled with accusation, panic, and despair—pour into his ear like garbage.

A minute passed.

The voice on the other end grew softer, leaving only heavy panting.

"Are you finished?"

Leo finally spoke.

His voice was quiet, and cold.

The person on the other end was taken aback.

"What?" Murphy didn’t seem to have registered it.

"I said, John, take a deep breath."

There wasn’t a single trace of panic in Leo’s voice.

"If you’re already falling apart, if you can’t even withstand a little turbulence..."

"...then I suggest you hang up the phone right now and go write your withdrawal statement."

"Go back to Washington, be the coward you are, and continue being that invisible nobody in the House of Representatives."

Leo held the receiver, his tone ruthless.

Deep in his mind, Roosevelt’s voice carried a hint of exasperation, as if scolding a disappointing protégé.

’Listen to his voice, Leo. He’s trembling.’

’You need to understand, there’s a reason John Murphy has been an invisible man in Washington for eight years. Everyone calls him a nice guy. On Capitol Hill, ’nice guy’ is usually a synonym for spineless.’

’He’s used to following, used to listening to the Whip, used to coasting in his safe zone. You’re the one who dragged him into this arena with the bait of a Senate seat. You’re the one who forcibly shoved a sword into his hand.’

’But deep down, he’s still that Representative who doesn’t want to cause trouble. Now that the first shot has been fired, his first instinct isn’t to fight back, but to find a hole to crawl into.’

’You can’t comfort him. Comfort will let the weakness spread.’

’You have to be his backbone. You have to make him stand up straight, even if you have to whip him to do it.’

Leo’s eyes turned sharp.

"Representative Murphy, I want you to remember something."

"You’re not a Senator yet."

"You want to wear that crown. You want to sit in one of those one hundred seats."

"Then you first need to learn how to stand steady on a knife’s edge, not scream and shout like a child who’s lost a toy every time something goes wrong."

"Fear doesn’t solve a single problem. It only makes your enemies laugh harder."

"If you really want to be the one in that seat, if you want to represent Pennsylvania in Washington, then stop screaming like a kid who lost his candy."

Murphy was stunned by his words.

He never imagined that the young man who once needed his patronage, the Leo who was seeking his help just a year ago, would now dare to speak to him with such a condescending tone.

Murphy’s heavy breathing came through the phone—a mix of shame, anger, and a certain awakening that comes from being backed into a corner.

"...You’re right, Leo."

After a long moment, Murphy’s voice came over the line again. 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆𝙬𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝒎

"I lost my composure."

Murphy admitted, "But Leo, you have to face reality. That article about you is going viral. As far as the Union is concerned, you’re now a traitor who sold out the port for money."

"My campaign is built on the concept of the Rust Belt New Deal. If my core ally is a universally condemned stooge of capital, my credibility will go bankrupt right along with yours. Your public image is terrible right now, and it’s going to drag down my campaign."

Leo listened to Murphy’s complaints, his expression impassive.

"Forget about the article," Leo cut him off, seizing control of the conversation again. "It’s a smokescreen for the public, a tactic Monroe is using to screw with us. As long as we win, as long as the machines start running, those rumors will fall apart on their own."

"The core issue right now isn’t some online mudslinging. It’s that piece of paper from the State Community and Economic Development Department."

Leo looked out at the gloomy sky.

"John, I need you to do something."

"What is it?"

"You and your entire campaign team are to fly to Pittsburgh immediately."

"Move your campaign headquarters from Washington to Pittsburgh City Hall."

"The whole team?" Murphy hesitated. "But I have several important fundraising dinners in Washington, and a few committee hearings..."

"Cancel them."

Leo’s voice left no room for argument.

"If Pittsburgh goes bankrupt, if the bonds can’t be issued, you could give the most brilliant speeches in Washington and no one would believe a word you say. Your donors will pull their funding, and your allies will turn their backs on you."

"Your roots are here, John. If the roots are severed, the crown will wither and die, no matter how beautiful it is."

"Nine o’clock tomorrow morning."

"I want to see you and your people in my conference room."

"Don’t be late."

With that, Leo hung up the phone.

Ethan Hawke stood nearby, watching the whole exchange, dumbfounded.

He had seen plenty of politicians.

He’d seen subordinates who were yes-men to their superiors, and he’d seen big shots who pulled the strings from behind the scenes.

But he had never seen a Mayor dare to order around a senior Congressman like that.

It wasn’t just the forceful tone; it was a complete subversion of the power structure.

The core of power is never determined by the hollow lines of hierarchy on an organizational chart.

It is revealed by who can control the situation in a crisis, who can point the way out of despair, and who holds the button that decides life and death.

Leo turned and looked at Ethan.

"Stop staring, Ethan."

"Get the conference room ready."

"Tomorrow, we have a tough battle to fight."