Forging America: My Campaign Manager is Roosevelt-Chapter 94 - 66: Killing with Praise

The sun rose over Pittsburgh, as it did every morning.

Leo walked into his makeshift campaign headquarters in the South District.

He habitually picked up a newspaper from the folding table by the entrance.

It was the City Forum Newspaper, a paper that had long served as Carter Wright’s mouthpiece.

Leo had subscribed to it specifically to monitor his opponent’s moves in real time, usually to see what new rumors they had fabricated about him that day.

But today, his hand froze in midair.

He thought he must still be dreaming.

The front-page headline featured a large photograph of him from his community speech the day before.

The photo was exceptionally well-chosen.

Sunlight bathed the side of his face as he stood with his sleeves rolled up, pointing into the distance, his gaze firm and full of hope.

This wasn’t the kind of picture he was used to seeing of himself in this paper.

Previously, the photos this paper used were either candid shots of him snarling ferociously or so heavily shadowed they made him look like a conspirator.

What he found even more unbelievable was the massive black headline above the photo.

"Pittsburgh’s Pride: The Commitment of a Young Builder."

Leo’s stomach churned.

He opened the paper and quickly scanned the article.

There was no smearing, no fabrications, no attacks on his character, and no distortion of his policies.

The entire article was overflowing with sickeningly sweet praise.

The article lauded his "Pittsburgh Revitalization Plan" as "one of the few public welfare projects in recent years to actually be implemented."

It praised him personally as "a model of someone who has cast aside partisan bias to focus on solving real problems."

The writer even concluded the article with a sentimental flourish: "In Leo Wallace, we see a vitality this Steel City has not seen for a long time. He may be young, he may be impulsive, but his love for this city deserves a tip of the hat from every one of us."

Leo threw the newspaper onto the table.

It slid across the tabletop and bumped into Sarah’s coffee mug.

"What the hell is this?" Frank walked in from outside, also holding a copy of the same paper.

"Have those sons of bitches had a change of heart?" Frank cursed. "They used to paint us as robbers who were about to burn, kill, and plunder. Why are they suddenly singing our praises today?"

Sarah sat at her computer, her brow furrowed.

"It’s not just the newspapers," Sarah said, pointing at the screen. "Look at this."

A local Pittsburgh morning news program was playing on the screen.

The host, normally known for his sharp tongue and his attacks on Democratic Party Progressives, was now facing the camera, beaming as he commented on Leo’s campaign.

"We always complain that today’s youth are too radical, too unrealistic," the host said. "But Mr. Wallace has given us a pleasant surprise. Unlike that Cortes fellow, he doesn’t just shout slogans; he gets things done. He’s repairing roads, building parks."

"This pragmatic spirit is exactly what our society has always advocated for. If the Democratic Party had more people like him, our political environment would be much healthier."

A chill ran up Leo’s spine.

This was far more terrifying than seeing them attack him.

"It’s the kiss of death," Karen said as she walked in. She tossed her handbag onto a chair, her expression grave.

Before the team could make sense of it, the TV switched to a live press conference at City Hall.

Mayor Martin Carter Wright appeared on screen.

He was wearing a dark blue suit and looked reinvigorated.

A reporter asked for his thoughts on Leo Wallace announcing his candidacy.

Normally, this would have been a perfect opportunity for an incumbent mayor to attack his challenger.

He could have said Leo lacked experience, that his funding sources were suspicious, or that his policies would cripple the city’s economy with tax hikes.

But Carter Wright didn’t.

He turned to the camera with a magnanimous smile.

"This is excellent news," Carter Wright said. "The true essence of democracy lies in competition. Mr. Wallace may be young, but the work he’s recently done in the South District is there for all to see."

The Mayor paused, his tone growing more sincere.

"I must admit, our city government has indeed been negligent in the details of certain community services. Mr. Wallace’s actions are a beneficial supplement to our own work. The vitality he brings to this city is something all our municipal officials should learn from."

"Regardless of this election’s outcome, I believe Mr. Wallace is an important asset for Pittsburgh’s future. In fact, if he’s willing, I would welcome him to City Hall at any time to have a more in-depth discussion about our city’s future development."

On the television, Carter Wright appeared suave, magnanimous, and accommodating.

Off-screen, in the campaign headquarters, Frank’s jaw dropped and stayed that way.

"Did that old bastard take the wrong meds?" Frank muttered. "What is he doing? Is he campaigning for us?"

"No." Leo’s voice was ice-cold as he stared at Carter Wright’s hypocritical smile on the screen. "He’s poisoning me."

The entire morning, Leo’s campaign team was in a state of extreme confusion.

This method of attack was completely beyond their expectations.

They were prepared to deal with smears, prepared to deal with rumors, and prepared to deal with administrative crackdowns.

But they weren’t prepared to deal with praise.

Especially praise from the enemy.

Ethan Hawke sat in a corner, scrolling through social media data.

"Something’s not right," Ethan said. "Although the mainstream media is all praising you, the buzz within our core supporter groups is undergoing a subtle change."

"What kind of change?" Leo asked.

"Confusion," Ethan answered. "People are confused. They don’t understand why a mouthpiece for the capitalists like the City Forum Newspaper would support you. They don’t understand why Carter Wright is praising you. And that confusion is starting to fester."

’Mr. President, is this his tactic?’ Leo asked Roosevelt in his mind.

Roosevelt’s voice rang out.

"Carter Wright has finally started using his brain. Or rather, the real expert behind him has started giving him advice."

"This move is a hundred times more brilliant than his previous tricks like arson and shutting down your construction sites."

’What’s his goal? To make me lower my guard?’ Leo asked in his mind.

"No, child. His goal is far more malicious than that," Roosevelt explained. "He wants to destroy your foundation."

"Think about it. Who are your supporters? They’re the workers abandoned by the system, the young people dissatisfied with the status quo, the angry citizens who despise the ruling class that Carter Wright and Morganfield represent."

"They support you because you’re a challenger."

"Because you stand in opposition to City Hall, in opposition to capital."

"You are the spear they use to pierce this rotten system."

"But now, that very system has suddenly opened its arms to embrace you."

Roosevelt’s voice turned icy.

"When your supporters turn on the TV and see the mayor they despise praising you, when they open the newspaper and see the capitalists’ mouthpiece singing your praises..."

"What are they going to think?"

"They won’t think it’s because you’ve done so well that you’ve won over your enemies."

"They’ll wonder, ’Has Leo Wallace made some sort of backroom deal with them?’"

"’Has he been bought?’"

"’Has he become one of them?’"

"Once the seeds of this suspicion are planted, they will grow wildly in people’s minds. It’s far more effective at dismantling your base than any direct smear campaign."

"Carter Wright is trying to elevate you from a ’challenger of the people’ into an ’elite approved by the establishment.’"

"Once you lose that ’rebel’ label, you’ll be nothing in the eyes of your voters."

Leo looked at Sarah.

"Sarah, pull up the comments on our YouTube channel and the related topics on X. I want to see the latest comments—the newest, real-time ones."

Sarah tapped a few keys, and the page was projected onto the large screen.

Sure enough, the tide had turned. 𝒻𝘳ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝒷𝘯ℴ𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝑐ℴ𝑚

Beneath the fawning reports from the mainstream media, the comment sections were no longer a uniform chorus of support and cheers.

A jarring new tone began to appear and spread rapidly.

"Why would a trash paper like the Chronicle be praising Leo? Something’s not right here."

"Carter Wright said he’d welcome him to City Hall? Did they already make a deal?"

"I knew it. All politicians are the same. This whole ’revitalization plan’ is probably just a way to build up capital for joining the establishment later."

"I see right through him. Just another hypocrite who’s been co-opted."

"That Alex Cortes guy was kind of an idiot, but at least he was truly anti-establishment. This Wallace looks more like a successor groomed by the Establishment Faction."

Some of his more radical young supporters even posted direct challenges:

"Leo, you need to explain this! Why are the capitalists applauding you? Have you betrayed us?"

Frank’s face turned beet red as he read the comments.

"What is this nonsense these bastards are spouting?" Frank roared. "We betrayed them? Where were they when we were slogging through the dirt on those construction sites? Carter Wright says a few nice words, and they just believe him?"

"That’s human nature, Frank," Karen said coolly. "Voters are suspicious, especially radical voters. They have an instinctive hostility toward any olive branch from the powerful, and Carter Wright is exploiting that."

Leo stared at the doubts and questions continuously popping up on the screen.

He felt trapped.

If he came out swinging, telling Carter Wright he didn’t want his praise, he’d look flustered, ungracious, like a rabid dog who couldn’t recognize a friendly gesture.

It would just confirm the previous accusations that he was "radical" and "dangerous."

If he accepted the praise, even with a polite "thank you," it would confirm the suspicion that he was "cozying up" to the Establishment Faction.

No matter what he did, it would be the wrong move.

But if he did nothing and just let public opinion fester, there was no telling if it would escalate into a storm that could destroy him.

Carter Wright stood on the moral high ground, smiling as he cast his net, and Leo was the fish caught inside—the more he struggled, the tighter the net became.

"This is real political combat, child."

"All that other business—the arson, the site shutdowns—those are a thug’s tactics."

"This, on the other hand, is a politician’s tactic."

"It’s how you kill without shedding a drop of blood."

Leo stood up and walked to the window.

Outside, on the construction site, the workers were still bustling with energy.

But Leo knew that this simple, constructive enthusiasm would soon be shrouded in a poisonous fog of public opinion.

If he didn’t find a way to break this deadlock soon, this wave of suspicion would spread like a virus from the internet into the real world, ultimately destroying the trust he had worked so hard to build.