Forging America: My Campaign Manager is Roosevelt

Chapter 301 - 150: New Pennsylvania 2

"They’re saying we’re dumping materials at below-market prices and disrupting the state’s construction materials market. Hell, those were preferential rates to support the revival plan!"

"The worst part is, they’ve suspended all fund settlements. My cement trucks are still on the road burning fuel, but our cash flow has been cut off."

"I’m sorry, Leo, we have to terminate our partnership immediately. I have to call my fleet back, or we’ll go bankrupt."

Next came Johnston, then Altoona.

The calls were all more or less the same.

Investigations, audits, crackdowns, and fines.

The bureaucratic machine in Harrisburg had been set in motion.

Leo gripped the now-hot telephone receiver, his expression unnervingly calm.

He was thinking.

He was replaying Ron Smith’s hysterical rant from the phone call.

’Was that fear?’

’Yes, it was fear.’

’But was it only fear?’

"No."

Leo said to Roosevelt.

"Mr. President, this doesn’t make sense. If they really wanted to pull out, if they were truly terrified, their reaction should be to cut all ties with Pittsburgh, send a harshly worded official letter to distance themselves, and then hide in their offices and play dead."

"Not call me personally, one by one, to cry about their plight and describe in painstaking detail how terrible the state’s investigation is and how severe the asset freeze is."

"They’re showing me their wounds."

Roosevelt’s voice came through.

"You’ve seen right through it, Leo."

"This is the language of politicians."

"They’re threatening you, but they’re also counting on you."

"They know full well what this alliance means to you, and what it means for Murphy’s senatorial campaign. It’s the foundation of your political legacy and Murphy’s source of votes. They know you can’t afford to lose."

"So, they’ve kicked the ball into your court."

"They’re forcing your hand, pushing you to confront Harrisburg. As long as you can resolve the pressure from the State Government, they’ll be more than happy to keep making this money."

Taking a deep breath, Leo called out to Ethan, who was peering anxiously from the conference room.

"Ethan, you’re in charge of things here from now on," Leo said, gesturing toward the conference room.

"But Mayor, what about Smith..." Ethan said, pointing at the phone.

"Forget about them. They won’t die, they’re just whining," Leo interrupted. "Your task now is to get back to that table and continue discussing our system with the economists and lawyers. You should know what our goal is."

"Go on."

Watching Ethan hesitate before walking back into the conference room, Leo dialed the number for Adrian Payne, the city’s legal counsel.

"Adrian, it’s Leo. I need you to immediately look into the jurisdictional boundaries of the State Auditing Bureau and the Department of Community and Economic Development."

"I need to know if it’s actually legal for them to freeze a local government’s third-party escrow accounts with just an executive order and no court injunction. Or is this just their usual administrative intimidation tactic?"

"I want a definitive legal interpretation, and I want it now."

After hanging up, Leo walked to the window. His gaze traveled past Pittsburgh’s gloomy skyline, toward the east.

The direction of Harrisburg.

「Pennsylvania State Capitol Building.」

Aston Monroe was standing in front of a massive electronic election map.

The electronic map on the wall had once been a reassuring expanse of deep blue, representing his unshakable dominance in Philadelphia and its surrounding suburbs.

It was the base he had meticulously cultivated for a decade, a solid fortress built on millions of middle-class, intellectual, and minority voters.

But now, some jarring spots had appeared on this perfect blue map.

In Pittsburgh to the west, Erie to the north, and Scranton and Bethlehem to the east.

Those forgotten, deindustrialized areas were now lit up in an unsettling rust color.

The color was like a stubborn skin disease, slowly seeping outward along the highway and railway networks.

John Murphy’s approval ratings were skyrocketing in these regions.

"Look at this, Paul."

Monroe extended a finger and tapped heavily on Pittsburgh’s location.

"This Mayor Wallace of ours... he’s certainly got a big appetite these days."

"What is he doing? Trying to create a New Pennsylvania?"

"He’s taking that five hundred million US Dollars and throwing it around, sending orders to Erie, giving contracts to Scranton. Does he think he’s living in medieval Europe? That he’s the Duke of Burgundy, trying to carve out his own kingdom from the Kingdom of France?"

Standing behind him, his campaign manager, Paul Turner, looked over the briefing in his hands with a serious expression.

"As much as that analogy sounds like a joke, I have to admit, what he’s doing is legally watertight."

"He’s using the ’Intergovernmental Cooperation Act,’ a law that allows local municipalities to sign mutual aid agreements. He’s exploited that loophole to bypass the State Government’s approval process and establish direct, horizontal economic ties with the mayors of those small and mid-sized cities."

"The situation is bad, Boss."

Turner pointed to the rust-colored areas.

"The mayors of those small and mid-sized cities now have deep ties with Pittsburgh."

"This bond of mutual interest is very strong. Wherever Murphy goes, those mayors personally show up to endorse him."

"I’ve even heard they’re persuading some Republican Party voters to switch to the Democratic Party, presumably to vote for Murphy."