Forging America: My Campaign Manager is Roosevelt

Chapter 349 - 167: Food Chain

Leo frowned.

He thought Morganfield’s counterattack had arrived, or perhaps a court injunction. He was even prepared to see himself publicly excoriated by the media.

But what appeared on the screen was a live breaking news report from a local Pittsburgh news channel.

The background was the headquarters of the Morganfield Industrial Group.

The spokesperson, who was usually unbearably arrogant, now stood before a sea of microphones, his expression one of almost devout solemnity.

"...The Morganfield Industrial Group has always considered the development of Pittsburgh our own responsibility. In the face of the temporary difficulties currently encountered in the city’s construction, the Group’s board of directors has made the following decisions after an emergency consultation."

Leo was stunned.

"We will allocate the Group’s internal strategic reserve materials to fully guarantee the construction needs of ’Revival Plan Phase II’ and the Inland Port project."

"All relevant construction teams will resume work immediately, operating on a twenty-four-hour shift system to make up for the delayed schedule."

The spokesperson paused, then faced the camera and gave a deep bow.

The bow was so low, his posture so humble, that he looked like a student who had made a mistake.

"We promise that at this critical juncture, the Morganfield Group will spare no expense to fully support Mayor Wallace’s revival plan and weather this storm together with the citizens of Pittsburgh."

The live feed cut, and the screen returned to the news studio.

Even the news anchor looked bewildered, clearly not having expected such a statement.

The office fell into a dead silence.

Ethan walked in right after, a freshly drafted memo on how to handle the lawsuit still in his hand.

He stared at the screen, his mouth agape.

"W-what’s going on?" Ethan stammered. "My administrative inspection teams just set out. They’ve barely issued any fines, and they’ve already surrendered?"

"Could our tactics have been too successful? Did we scare them to death?"

Leo didn’t answer.

’This makes no sense at all.’

’Morganfield is not the type to be frightened into submission by a few fines and a couple of seizures.’

’He’s a greedy alligator. Once an alligator latches onto its prey, it never lets go—unless someone holds a gun to its head and pulls the trigger.’

’Even with me mobilizing the city’s entire administrative power to corner him, this fight should have lasted several rounds. We should have traded blows, with wins and losses on both sides, before finally reaching some sort of compromise at the negotiating table.’

’This kind of sudden, almost sycophantic surrender could only mean one thing.’

’A power far greater than my own has intervened.’

Just as Leo was puzzling over this, his phone on the desk buzzed.

Leo picked up his phone. The screen showed a number with no caller ID.

The text was short, just three words.

Don’t mention it.

There was no signature, but Leo knew who it was from.

Evelyn Saint Cloud.

In Leo’s eyes, Morganfield was a local oligarch in Pittsburgh, an opponent he needed to use administrative power to fight.

But in the eyes of the Saint Claude Family of Philadelphia, Morganfield was nothing more than a nouveau riche upstart, a contractor scrambling for a living at the bottom of the industrial chain.

Evelyn didn’t even need to make a big move.

A few phone calls were all it took to turn that alligator into a docile lapdog.

This was the food chain of capital.

Leo put down his phone.

"In this massive arena of fame and fortune, government and capital, power and money, are all intertwined, forming a complex ecosystem."

Roosevelt’s voice echoed in Leo’s mind.

"Trying to attack from outside the system is often twice the work for half the results."

"You mobilized the city’s entire administrative force to corner Morganfield. While you made him bleed, it was still a difficult war of attrition because he has resources in another system that you can’t touch."

"However, once you are back inside the same system, crushing him becomes remarkably simple, even a bit dull."

"This is the food chain."

"In the ocean of capital, Evelyn Saint Cloud is a monster from the deep."

"She doesn’t even need to show her face. All she has to do is send a text message from her manor in Philadelphia to make Morganfield submit."

"The big fish eat the small fish. It’s the law of the jungle."

"The same logic applies to politics."

"Russell Warren doesn’t need to come to Pennsylvania personally, either. He just has to sign a few papers in his office on Capitol Hill and leverage his influence in the Federation Agencies to put pressure on the mayors of Erie and Scranton."

"Superiors crush subordinates; the center controls the provinces."

"In Warren’s eyes, you are also just a link in this food chain."

"So..."

"So he’s got one thing wrong," Leo interjected.

"I’m not Smith, and I’m not Byers."

"I never put myself in his damn hierarchical pyramid."

"Russell Warren thinks he’s punishing traitors. He thinks that by cutting off federal funding and creating administrative obstacles, he can make those wavering mayors crawl back to his feet and start licking his boots again."

"It’s a kind of arrogance."

"The arrogance of an old-world aristocrat."

"He thinks those mayors can’t survive without him. He thinks that without handouts from Washington, the people of this land have no other options."

"But he’s forgotten that there’s a new player at the table now."

Roosevelt asked, "What are you getting at, Leo? You want to go save them?"

"No."

Leo denied it flatly.

"If I go save them now, they’ll be overcome with gratitude, and then they’ll turn right around and continue to sit on the fence between me and Warren, playing both sides for their own benefit."

"As long as those wily old foxes have an out, they’ll never go all-in with their chips."

"I don’t want allies."

"I want subordinates."

Leo’s gaze turned sharp.

"I’m counting on Warren to be even more ruthless."

"I’m counting on him to completely halt the port dredging funds for Erie, to slash all the highway subsidies for Scranton, and to push those mayors into a corner where they can’t pay salaries and are trapped in their offices by angry constituents."

"Only when the road to Washington is completely cut off, only when they realize that beyond the ship of Pittsburgh, there is nothing but a drowning abyss, will they finally commit completely."

"Only then will they understand that to survive, they must listen to me."

"I’m going to use Warren’s hand to push these people completely onto my side."

"And then."

"I will finally have true control over the entire Rust Belt."