Forging America: My Campaign Manager is Roosevelt

Chapter 342 - 165: Prophet

Silence fell once again.

But this time, the silence was not born of fear, but of calculation.

Ron Smith picked up the handkerchief again and wiped the sweat from his neck.

He looked at the glittering closed loop on the screen, then at Leo standing in the shadows.

Erie’s docks had indeed been in disrepair for a long time. If a construction crew came to fix them, it would not only create jobs but also save a large chunk of the fiscal budget.

The math worked out.

But that was all contingent on whether these so-called "notes" were actually usable.

Smith was an old-school man.

He believed in gold, in the US Dollar, even in physical bullion. But he found it hard to believe a string of code dancing on a server could replace cold, hard cash to pay workers’ wages.

’What if it was a trap?’

’What if Leo Wallace was just trying to use their credit to plug the holes in Pittsburgh’s own budget?’

"Leo."

Smith spoke, his voice laced with caution.

"What you’re saying seems to make a lot of sense."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over Joe Byers and the other mayors beside him.

They were all looking at him, waiting for him to take a stance.

"But this is a huge deal. It involves changing our cities’ financial settlement procedures, and even amending our procurement regulations."

Smith pointed to the thick stack of documents in Ethan’s hands.

"Are those for us?"

Leo’s expression shifted subtly. He could see Smith’s hesitation.

"Of course." Leo took the documents from Ethan and slid them in front of Smith. "This is the System Access Guide, the Legal Liability Memorandum, and our team’s Risk Mitigation Plan."

"Very good."

Smith pulled the documents toward him and pressed his palm down on them firmly.

"We need time, Leo. I need to take these back and have my finance director and the city council’s legal counsel study them carefully."

"We aren’t economists. We need to be sure that when Erie’s factory owners take these notes to buy coal, the mine owners won’t just throw them out."

Joe Byers immediately chimed in, "That’s right, Leo. This isn’t something a few of us can decide on a whim. We need to assess the risks. After all, if this system collapses, our cities will truly go bankrupt."

They wanted to wait and see.

Leo didn’t force them to commit now; they weren’t in a position to commit anyway.

"Of course."

Leo nodded.

"This certainly requires careful consideration. Take the documents back and study them thoroughly. Our technical team is on standby to answer any of your questions about the system’s security and liquidity."

"However, gentlemen."

Leo straightened up, a hint of pressure entering his tone.

"As I said, Pittsburgh’s projects won’t stop, and neither will our procurement. If you don’t take this contract, someone else will."

"I’ll be waiting for your answer."

"Sooner rather than later."

The meeting was over.

The mayors, clutching the heavy documents, walked out of the conference room with heavy hearts.

Leo stood his ground, watching their backs disappear through the doorway.

...

「The parking lot outside City Hall.」

The afternoon sun was harsh.

Ron Smith didn’t get into his car right away.

He stood by his Chevy SUV and lit a cigarette.

Joe Byers walked over, also holding the documents.

The other mayors tacitly gathered around.

There was no one from Pittsburgh here, no eyes or ears of Leo’s. This was their safe zone.

"What do you all think?"

Byers was the first to break the silence, his brow furrowed.

"That kid is a smooth talker, and his logic sounds airtight, but... notes? Can they really work?"

"I was too embarrassed to ask inside," the Mayor of Johnston chimed in. "If my factories use these notes to pay wages, can the workers take them to the supermarket to buy bread? Will the supermarket even accept them? If not, they’re just worthless paper."

"I saw in the documents that they can be used to offset taxes," Smith said, exhaling a smoke ring. "That means the value of these notes is backed by our tax revenue. We’d be spending future tax income to pay for current orders."

"The risk is too great."

Smith shook his head.

"Besides, don’t forget the political risk."

He lowered his voice, his eyes scanning their surroundings warily.

"That Wallace is a Democrat, and one of those crazies from Sanders’s wing of the party. If we get too close to him, how do we answer to the state party headquarters? How do we answer to Senator Warren?"

"But Murphy just won the primary," Byers said, hesitating. "The Democratic campaign committee is already throwing its full support behind him. The political winds are shifting. The pressure on Warren’s side is immense."

"That pressure is exactly why Warren will be even more rabid," Smith sneered. "You think the bigwigs in the Republican Party will just stand by and watch us lean toward the Democrats? That trick of switching parties to vote in the primary won’t fly again. If we publicly join Leo’s little... alliance now, we’re basically poking Warren in the eye."

"So what do we do?" one mayor asked anxiously. "The factories are putting on a lot of pressure. If I can’t secure these contracts, I’ll have to start layoffs next month. And if I do that, I’m out of a job."

"Yeah, we’re damned if we do, damned if we don’t."

Smith threw his cigarette butt to the ground and viciously crushed it out with the toe of his shoe.

"So, we need a two-pronged approach."

He looked at his colleagues around him, a cunning glint in his eyes.

"We take the documents back and make a show of studying them seriously, acting like we’re actively pushing for it. That should placate Leo and get him to reserve the contracts for us. With the advance payment, we can at least cover the workers’ wages."