Forging America: My Campaign Manager is Roosevelt-Chapter 71 - 55: The Silent Giant Crocodile

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A few days later, the Pittsburgh mayoral campaign officially kicked off.

At first, every political observer and ordinary citizen thought this would be a complete landslide.

Although Mayor Carter Wright’s reputation had slipped, he was, after all, the incumbent mayor with vast resources at his disposal.

And Leo Wallace, while full of drive, was still a newcomer.

The scene people envisioned was one of wall-to-wall TV ads and a relentless bombardment of newspaper headlines, completely burying the name Leo Wallace in a sea of negative press.

However, the way things unfolded surprised everyone.

「The first week after the campaign began.」

Campaign ads for Carter Wright did indeed appear on Pittsburgh television.

They were beautifully shot and well-produced, featuring Carter Wright in a suit, standing before City Hall, passionately recounting his achievements over the past eight years.

But people quickly noticed something was off.

The number of these ads wasn’t as high as expected.

They only appeared in some regular time slots, not dominating the primetime block before and after the evening news as they usually would.

What was even stranger was the media’s attitude.

The Pittsburgh Chronicle, a paper historically seen as Morganfield’s mouthpiece and one that had acted as Carter Wright’s attack dog in past elections, was being unusually objective this time.

Its front-page headlines carried no articles attacking Leo.

Instead, it gave parallel coverage to the activities of both candidates.

On the left was Carter Wright inspecting a school; on the right was Leo eating a boxed lunch with workers at a community construction site.

The space given to each was equal, the wording neutral.

There was neither praise nor slander.

The other radio and television stations maintained the same tacit understanding.

Those conservative commentators who should have been jumping out to viciously tear into Leo at this point were now collectively silent, as if they’d all lost their voices.

They talked about the weather, sports, scandals in Washington—anything but that "radical socialist" Leo Wallace.

This abnormal quiet was more unsettling than a fierce barrage of attacks.

In the breakroom at City Hall, a few senior civil servants were whispering among themselves.

"Hey, have you guys noticed? Something’s weird about this election."

"Yeah, I think so too. In past years, Morganfield’s ads would have been all over the city by now, not even sparing the bus stop shelters. How come there’s been no movement at all this year?"

"I heard the editor-in-chief of the Chronicle pulled several articles they’d prepared that attacked Wallace."

"This is too abnormal. Don’t tell me..." one of the civil servants lowered his voice, "Could that rumor be true? That the people at the top don’t want Carter Wright re-elected?"

"You mean, Mr. Morganfield has given up on him?"

"Shh! Keep your voice down! But this whole thing feels fishy. That young man, Leo, his background probably isn’t so simple. Think about it, if he didn’t have the go-ahead from above, could he have been making all this noise for so long?"

Such speculation and rumors began to spread through Pittsburgh’s political circles and among the general public.

The direction of public opinion, which had been completely one-sided, began to quietly shift.

People began to re-evaluate the young man busy at the construction site.

He was no longer a challenger destined to fail.

He seemed to possess some kind of mysterious power that even the big shots had to be wary of.

「In the Mayor’s Office.」

Carter Wright stared at the pile of neutral newspapers on his desk and the less-than-generous campaign finance report from his treasurer. Furious, he slammed his coffee cup against the wall.

’That old fox really made his move.’

’Or rather, he really didn’t make a move.’

For Carter Wright, who controlled the city’s administrative resources but lacked sufficient funding and media control, this neutrality was the ultimate betrayal.

Now, he would have to go into battle bare-fisted, using only the resources at his own disposal to fight a bloody, hand-to-hand battle against a young man who was armed to the teeth.

"Fine. Very good," Carter Wright said, looking out the window. "Since none of you will help me, I’ll do it myself."

A ruthless glint flashed in his eyes.

’This time, he would make a call to Washington.’