Forging America: My Campaign Manager is Roosevelt-Chapter 105 - 71: "Performance Art" on the Lawn

He looked into Old Qiao’s eyes, his face filled with guilt.

"I’m sorry, Old Qiao. I’m sorry, everyone."

Leo’s voice, picked up by the live audio equipment Sarah had prepared, carried clearly to the livestream viewers.

"The money is right there."

Leo turned and pointed directly behind him, at a large, curtained window on the third floor of the City Hall building.

"That’s the money the Federal Government allocated to us. It’s your hard-earned money. Two and a half million US Dollars, and it’s all in that account."

"But the man behind that window, Mr. Martin Carter Wright, has taken the key."

"He told us that he had to freeze the funds because we needed to fill out a survey report on ’how to safely eat a sandwich on a construction site.’"

"He told us that for the sake of administrative compliance, your children must go hungry, you must fall behind on your rent, and you must stop taking your medicine."

Leo’s voice rose, laced with fury.

"I can’t write you a check, Old Qiao. They’ve taken my pen. They’ve tied my hands."

"If you want that money, if you want to know why you aren’t getting paid today..."

"Knock on that door."

Leo pointed to the tightly shut main doors of City Hall.

"Go ask Mr. Mayor, sitting in his warm office sipping hot coffee, why his ’compliance’ is more important than your survival."

Old Qiao’s gaze followed Leo’s pointing finger toward the building.

The look in his eyes changed.

His resentment toward Leo instantly transformed into fury directed at the unseen man in that building.

"Let’s go!" Old Qiao clapped his hat on and yelled to the workers behind him. "Let’s go get some answers!"

The workers surged toward the doors of City Hall.

Though a large number of security guards rushed to the scene and stopped them at the foot of the steps, the image of the angry, unpaid workers charging the doors of City Hall had already spread via the livestream throughout Pittsburgh, and even the entire state of Pennsylvania.

The livestream chat exploded.

"This is shameless! Carter Wright is a thief!"

"That money is the workers’ lifeline! How dare he freeze it?"

"Look at Leo, working out in the freezing wind, while the Mayor enjoys his heated office. Is this what our government has become?"

"What the hell is that ’sandwich survey report’? This is bureaucracy-fueled murder!"

In that instant, the tide of public opinion turned completely.

People no longer cared about the complex rules and regulations.

All they saw was a young man persevering in the freezing wind, a group of desperate, unpaid workers, and an aloof, arrogant mayor hiding away in his high-rise office.

This was the "performance art" Roosevelt had taught Leo.

Don’t debate the format of a form with a bureaucrat.

Drag your desk out onto the street, lay all the ugliness and absurdity bare for all to see, and let the people be the judge.

「By noon.」

The situation escalated further.

City Hall’s complaint lines were flooded, and the switchboard system crashed.

But that wasn’t Carter Wright’s biggest headache.

What he dreaded even more was that the citizens had begun to organize their own displays of support.

A pizza delivery truck pulled up beside the lawn.

The delivery driver unloaded twenty boxes of steaming hot pizza and set them on Leo’s desk.

"Who ordered this?" Sarah asked.

"No idea," the driver said, wiping sweat from his brow. "The order just said: ’For those fighting for Pittsburgh in the cold.’ It’s already been paid for."

Next came the coffee.

An employee from the nearby Starbucks came over, carrying two large urns of hot coffee.

"Some of the office workers over there pooled their money for this," the employee said, pointing across the street. "They said it’s for you guys. As for the Mayor, they said that bastard can go drink his own bathwater."

Blankets, hand warmers, and someone even delivered two space heaters.

The makeshift office on the lawn was piled high with supplies from supportive citizens.

This was no longer a simple protest. It had become a city-wide public trial.

Every person who brought coffee, everyone who hit "like" on the livestream, was casting their own vote of no confidence against Carter Wright.

「At this very moment.」

「City Hall, Third Floor. The Mayor’s Office.」

The heat was cranked up in the room, making it as warm as a spring day.

But Martin Carter Wright felt a chill that went straight to his bones.

He stood at the large window, peeking through a gap in the curtains at the bustling scene on the lawn below.

He saw the mountains of pizza boxes, the young people crowding around Leo to take pictures, and the workers pointing up at his building.

But he couldn’t bring himself to take a sip of the coffee in his hand.

He had become an animal on display.

A tyrant trapped in a glass cage.

"Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!"

Carter Wright hurled the coffee cup onto the carpet.

He spun around to face Director Dave Miller, who stood in the corner, his expression just as grim.

"Dave, is this your idea of keeping the peace?"

Carter Wright’s voice was low, simmering with a madness that was about to boil over.

"A bunch of circus clowns, putting on a show right at the doors of City Hall, inciting a riot, obstructing traffic, and disturbing the peace!"

"And you, and those useless cops of yours, just stand by and watch?"

Director Miller wiped the sweat from his forehead.

"Mr. Mayor, they... they aren’t breaking any laws. It’s a public lawn, and they have a permit for assembly... It’s an old one, but the legality is a bit of a gray area..."

"I don’t want to hear about the law!"

Carter Wright roared, cutting him off.

"The law is a weapon to use against them, not a shackle to bind me!"

"I don’t care what excuse you use. A city beautification ordinance, illegal occupation of public land, suspicion of drug possession, whatever!"

"I want them gone from my sight by sunrise tomorrow morning!"

"Completely gone!"

Carter Wright pointed out the window.

"If I come to work tomorrow morning and see so much as a single table or even a scrap of paper left on that lawn..."

"...then you won’t have to bother wearing that uniform ever again."

Director Miller straightened his back, a ruthless glint flashing in his eyes.

He knew the Mayor had been pushed into a corner.

And in Pittsburgh, when the Mayor went crazy, the police director had to become his mad dog.

"Understood, boss."

Miller put on his police cap, turned, and walked out of the office.

His hand rested on the holster at his waist.

’Since civilized methods have failed, it’s time to revert to the most primitive one.’

Violence.

Down on the lawn, evening was falling.

Leo pulled his coat tighter around him. He was live on camera, answering a viewer’s question about the allocation of community education funds.

His voice was a little hoarse, but still clear and strong.

Suddenly, Roosevelt’s voice echoed in his mind.

’Pay attention, Leo.’

’The wind has shifted.’

’Look at the street corner over there.’

Leo looked up in the direction Roosevelt had indicated.

At the edge of the City Hall plaza, several black SWAT riot control vehicles were parked silently in the shadows.

Their doors were closed, their lights dark.

’He’s getting desperate,’ Roosevelt said. ’He finally couldn’t resist unleashing his last dogs.’

’Are you ready, kid?’

’What happens next is the true climax of this piece of performance art.’

Leo looked into the camera, a slight smile on his face.

"Folks, it looks like today’s livestream might run a little longer than planned."

He shot Sarah a knowing glance.

"I think we’re about to have some uninvited guests."