Forging America: My Campaign Manager is Roosevelt

Chapter 297 - 148: The Bill for the Carnival Night

In a private room of a five-star hotel in Pittsburgh City Center.

A victory banquet was underway, which also served as the first official joint meeting of the Pennsylvania Industrial Revival Alliance.

Ron Smith was standing before his chair, his red wine glass held high.

His tie was loosened and hanging around his neck, and his usually stern face was now covered in an unreserved smile.

"To Pittsburgh!"

Smith’s voice was loud and tinged with drunkenness.

"To Leo Wallace!"

Smith downed the red wine in his glass and slammed it onto the table.

"You know what? Just yesterday, the general manager of the Erie United Steel Factory called me. The old guy was crying like a baby on the phone."

"He said that because of the steel component orders from Pittsburgh, the factory not only canceled their layoff plans but will even add two more production shifts next month!"

"Three shifts! Gentlemen! The factories in Erie haven’t run three shifts in a whole decade!"

Smith waved his arms excitedly.

"Those workers have jobs again. They can pay their mortgages and take their kids out for a nice meal on the weekend. This is what I want. As long as we can achieve this, I don’t care if the money comes from the Democratic Party or the Republican Party."

Sitting beside him, Mayor Joe Byers of Scranton stood up in agreement.

"That’s right." Byers’s face was flushed from the drinking. "Our cement plants are hiring too. Even the truck drivers over there are making a killing. Leo, you didn’t just save Pittsburgh, you saved all of us."

Byers raised his glass.

"In this damn world, there’s only one color I care about."

He pulled a US Dollar bill from his pocket and slapped it on the table.

"And that’s green."

"As long as it’s green USD, I don’t care who prints it, I love it!"

The room erupted in boisterous laughter.

The atmosphere was electric.

This kind of harmony, crossing party and regional lines, was nothing short of a miracle in the fractured political landscape of the modern United States.

And the glue that created this miracle was the five hundred million US Dollars in bond funds.

John Murphy sat to Leo’s right.

The Representative, who was about to face the great test of the primary election, couldn’t stop grinning all night.

He watched these Republican mayors, who had once avoided him like the plague, now treating him like a god of wealth. The great weight in his heart finally lifted.

Murphy stood up and straightened his suit.

"Mayors."

Murphy began to speak, his voice filled with confidence.

"I’m very happy to see our alliance is working, but this is just the beginning."

"Before being Republicans or Democrats, we are first and foremost Pennsylvanians."

"As long as I can get into the Senate, as long as we can have a stronger voice in Washington, investments of this scale will become the norm. We will bring more Federation projects back to Pennsylvania, back to the Rust Belt."

Murphy paused, his gaze sweeping over everyone present.

"However, I will also need your help."

"The primary election is in three weeks. Although it’s an internal primary for the Democratic Party, I hope you all can put in a good word for me in your respective cities, especially within the Unions."

"Tell the workers who brought them their jobs."

Ron Smith let out a drunken burp and patted his chest.

"Don’t you worry, John."

"Even though I’m a Republican, I can’t publicly endorse you. But I’ll tell the Union chairman in Erie that if they don’t want the factory to shut down, they should have their members vote for the man who can bring in the orders."

"It’s just a matter of changing party affiliation. They can switch back right after voting. Besides, Warren is sure to win the primary anyway."

"In Erie, nobody’s going to mess with their own livelihood."

The other mayors also expressed their support one by one.

They might not be able to sway all the voters, but for the blue-collar workers who prioritized economic interests above all, the mayor’s attitude was crucial.

Murphy nodded in satisfaction and sat back down.

He turned his head and said to Leo in a low voice, "See that? This is what you call momentum. Neither Warren nor Monroe can stop this tide."

Leo sat there, a polite smile on his face.

He raised his glass, acknowledging every mayor who toasted him.

He looked relaxed, enjoying this moment of victory.

But under the table, his left hand was clutching his phone tightly.

The screen was lit up.

It was an email Ethan had sent ten minutes ago, titled "First Quarter Fund Depletion Rate and Cash Flow Warning."

Leo opened the attachment.

A steep, downward-sloping red curve stung his eyes.

That five hundred million US Dollars, which had once seemed like an astronomical sum, an inexhaustible treasury.

But over the past month, the money had been evaporating at an astonishing rate.

At the current burn rate, the five hundred million wouldn’t even last three months.

Leo turned off his phone screen.

He looked at the mayors before him, clinking glasses and flushed with excitement.

They were very happy.

Because they were spending Pittsburgh’s money to solve their own problems, of course they would praise Leo as a friend.

Besides, they were using Democratic Party money, so the Republican Party headquarters couldn’t do anything to them.

"What are you thinking about, Leo?" Murphy leaned over, his breath reeking of alcohol. "Why aren’t you drinking? This wine is good."

"I was thinking..."

Leo swirled his glass, watching the red liquid slosh inside.

"I was thinking, when this five hundred million US Dollars is all spent..."

"Will the people in this room still be as friendly as they are now?"

Murphy was taken aback for a moment, then waved his hand dismissively.

"Don’t be a buzzkill, Leo. When the money’s gone, we’ll just make more. Besides, once I’m elected Senator, we’ll be able to get more money from Washington."

Leo just smiled and didn’t argue.

He raised his glass and took a sip.

The banquet ended amidst laughter and cheerful conversation.

The mayors got into their respective private cars for the journey home, their trunks filled with gifts from Pittsburgh and their pockets holding newly signed supply contracts.

They left, completely satisfied.

Leo declined Murphy’s invitation to head to another bar.

"I still have documents to handle," Leo said.

He returned to the city hall alone.

The office building was empty late at night. Leo pushed open the door to the Mayor’s Office, and switched on the desk lamp.

He sat in his chair and opened the fund depletion report again.

The red curve was particularly glaring in the darkness.

"Mr. President."

Leo spoke to the empty air.

"I feel like the captain of the Titanic, hosting a ball on deck."

"The guests are all dancing, drinking, and praising how luxurious the ship is."

"Only I know that the bilge is already taking on water."

Roosevelt’s voice echoed in his mind.

"Prosperity built on debt is like giving a dying patient a shot of adrenaline."

"For a moment after the injection, his face will be ruddy, his heartbeat strong, and he’ll feel like he could take down a bull."

"But the effect of the drug is temporary."

"And what’s more, the drug is toxic."

"Look at the Industrial Revival Alliance you’ve built."

"It looks wonderful, connecting seven cities together to form a closed loop."

"But what is the power source for this closed loop?"

"It’s the five hundred million US Dollars in your hand."

"You use this money to buy steel from Erie, Erie uses the money to pay its workers, and the workers take their wages and spend them."

"It all looks very prosperous."

"But, Leo."

Roosevelt’s voice was probing.

"Besides you, who else can Erie sell its steel to?"

"Besides Pittsburgh, where else can Scranton’s cement be shipped?"

"You haven’t created a market. You’ve created a life-support system that depends on blood transfusions."

"And you are the blood bag."

"When your blood runs dry, when that five hundred million US Dollars has turned into a pile of brand-new infrastructure that requires enormous funds just for maintenance..."

"What happens next?"

"Erie’s factories will shut down again for lack of new orders."

"Scranton’s workers will be unemployed once more."

"Those mayors will turn on you in an instant. They’ll accuse you of breaking off the cooperation, call you an irresponsible liar."

"And as for Pittsburgh..."

"The city will be left with a collection of beautiful parks and roads, and a crushing mountain of debt."

"At that point, you won’t need anyone else to do the job. The interest payments alone will be enough to bankrupt the city."

Leo leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling.

He knew all of this, of course.

From the moment he decided to issue the bonds, he knew he was drinking from a poisoned chalice.

But he had to drink it.

Because if he didn’t, he wouldn’t even get a seat at the table.

"Then what should we do?" Leo asked. "Stop the projects? Cut spending? That would be the end of Murphy’s election, and my approval ratings would plummet."

"No, you can’t stop."

Roosevelt said firmly.

"Once you start riding a bicycle, you can’t stop. If you do, you’ll fall over."

"You have to ride faster."

"Since five hundred million isn’t enough, you’ll have to find more money."

"So we need a heart." Leo’s fingers traced patterns on the desktop unconsciously. "A heart that can generate its own blood."

’Otherwise, everything we’re doing now is just preparing for a much bigger funeral.’