Leo looked at those eyes.

A fire burned within them.

It was hope, trust, and fervor.

But amidst that light, Leo also saw something else.

A heavy weight.

A weight that two and a half million US Dollars in Federation funds could not lighten, a weight that dozens of brilliant speeches could not bear.

Those eyes were saying: We gave you everything. Now, it’s your turn to give us a way to live.

That expectation was more suffocating than the winter wind.

The ceremony was over.

The crowd began to disperse, but their enthusiasm still echoed over the city.

Escorted by security, Leo turned and walked toward the heavy doors of City Hall.

He walked through the corridors.

The City Hall staff who had once given him the cold shoulder, who had even tried to trip him up behind his back, now stood on both sides of the hall. They bowed to him with humble, fawning smiles on their faces.

"Good day, Mr. Mayor."

"Good morning, Mr. Mayor."

Leo didn’t stop, merely offering polite nods as he walked quickly.

He went up to the third floor and down to the end of the hall.

There was a set of large, double oak doors. The plaque on them bore a single word: Mayor.

His secretary pushed the doors open for him.

Leo stepped inside.

It was an office so spacious it felt empty.

Massive floor-to-ceiling windows took up an entire wall.

The room was clean. Almost too clean.

Martin Carter Wright had taken all his personal belongings.

The photos of him with various celebrities that had once hung on the walls were gone, leaving only a few faded rectangular outlines.

The books on the shelves had been cleared out, and the liquor in the cabinet was gone.

Even the pen holder on the desk had been taken.

All that remained in the room was a bare desk and a leather swivel chair that looked like it had seen some years.

Leo walked to the desk.

He reached out, his hand stroking the smooth, cold surface.

’Is this the finish line?’

’Is this the place he, Frank, and Sarah had spent half a year wallowing in the mud for, using every trick in the book, even betting everything they had, just to reach?’

He walked around the desk and sat down in the leather chair.

The leather of the chair let out a faint creak.

An unprecedented pressure, like a great mountain, settled on his shoulders without warning.

"We did it, Mr. President."

Leo said softly to the empty room.

"We won."

His voice echoed in the room, sounding a little thin.

The silence lasted for a few seconds.

Then, the familiar voice resounded from the depths of his mind.

Roosevelt’s voice had become incredibly stern, even carrying a hint of pressure.

"Won?"

"No, child."

"You’re mistaken."

"Just as Carter Wright told you on the phone, all of this... was just the warm-up."

There was no hint of celebration in Roosevelt’s tone.

"Stand up."

"Go to the window."

Leo did as he was told, rising and walking to the floor-to-ceiling windows to look at the square below where the ceremony had just been held.

Although the crowd had dispersed, the red carpet was still there, as was the dirty slush from their boots.

"Look at this city, Leo."

"Look at the people who were just cheering for you."

"Why were they cheering? Because you’re handsome? Because you give a good speech? Because your videos are entertaining?"

"No."

"They cheer because they’re hungry."

"They need jobs. They need to eat. They need to afford rent and buy medicine for their sick children."

"They want the road in front of their house, which has been broken for ten years, fixed. They want to be able to walk home from work at night without worrying about being robbed."

"They put you in this position not to watch you sit in that chair and space out, but for you to put bread on their tables."

Roosevelt’s voice grew heavier.

"And what do you have right now?"

"Besides the empty title of Mayor, you have nothing."

"Your treasury is empty," Roosevelt said coldly. "What Carter Wright left you is a complete mess, riddled with holes. The deficit is frighteningly high, and the debts are coming due."

"Your bureaucracy is lazy."

"The hundreds of civil servants in this building were cultivated by Carter Wright over eight years."

"They’re used to passing the buck, used to drinking coffee and reading the paper, used to turning a blind eye to the suffering of the citizens. Right now, their respect for you is only superficial. Behind your back, they’re just waiting to see you fail."

"Your police force is corrupt."

"Even though Dave Miller is gone, the rot in that police department remains. The captains who collude with gangs, the patrol officers accustomed to excessive force—they won’t listen to you."

"And don’t forget the elephant in the room."

"Douglas Morganfield."

"He may have remained neutral during the primary, but he isn’t dead. He still controls this city’s economic lifeblood, the media, and countless jobs."

"Right now, he’s lurking in the shadows like an alligator, watching your every move."

"The moment you make a single mistake, the moment you show the slightest weakness, he’ll pounce without hesitation, tear you to pieces, and replace you with a new puppet."

Leo’s fingers clenched into a tight fist.

"A campaign is about selling a dream to the people."

Roosevelt offered his final summary.

"It’s an art that requires passion, eloquence, and performance."