The air in Conference Room One of Pittsburgh City Hall was suffocating.

Around the long table sat seven or eight people in expensive suits.

They were the top administrative lawyers Karen Miller had urgently summoned from Washington and Philadelphia.

These people, whose hourly rates were as high as eight hundred US dollars, were now bickering endlessly like vendors at a market.

"No! This won’t work!"

A lawyer wearing gold-rimmed glasses slammed the legal code in his hands down on the table.

"According to Title 74 of the Pennsylvania Comprehensive Code, while local governments have the authority to create regional logistics plans, they must conform to the guiding principles of state-level macro-regulation. That statewide synergy assessment is based on a higher law; we can’t dismiss it on procedural grounds."

"Then cite the City Autonomy Charter!"

Another white-haired lawyer retorted.

"Pittsburgh is a first-class autonomous city. We have independent jurisdiction over land use and economic development. We can argue that the State Transportation Department’s intervention infringes upon our municipal autonomy and file for an injunction in Federal Court!"

"File for an injunction?"

The lawyer with the gold-rimmed glasses scoffed.

"Do you have any idea how long the Federal Court’s docket is? Even if we file for an emergency hearing, all they have to do is raise a jurisdictional objection to drag the case into an endless cycle of judicial buck-passing. By the time a judge bangs the gavel, it’ll be far too late!"

On the whiteboard by the long table, dozens of legal articles, case numbers, and various arrows were scribbled in a dense web.

This was the result of their entire day of research.

A pile of contradictory statutes. A pile of dead ends.

John Murphy sat in a corner, his phone clutched tightly in his hand.

He was roaring into the phone.

"Harry, for God’s sake, can’t you help me just this once? I just need a hearing scheduled with the Pennsylvania Department of Community and Economic Development! ...What? It’s ’in process’? To hell with the process!"

Murphy abruptly ended the call and threw his phone onto the table. 𝗳𝗿𝐞𝕖𝘄𝗲𝕓𝗻𝚘𝚟𝕖𝐥.𝚌𝕠𝕞

He looked up at Leo, his eyes filled with despair.

"It’s useless."

Murphy shook his head.

"It’s like all those bureaucrats in Harrisburg planned this together. Every single one of them is giving me the runaround. Monroe has us blocked at every turn. He’s been in the State Government for years; that’s his turf."

Ethan Hawke stood by the window, staring out at the gloomy sky, unconsciously shredding a paper cup in his hands.

Leo sat at the head of the table.

He looked at the complex legal jargon on the whiteboard, at the bickering lawyers, at his despairing allies.

A wave of intense dizziness washed over him.

Twelve days.

Only twelve days remained on the countdown.

Every passing second pushed him closer to the abyss of municipal bankruptcy and personal ruin.

’Mr. President.’

Leo called out in his mind.

’Do you have a plan? Which statute should we even cite to fight back? The City Autonomy Charter, or federal antitrust laws?’

’Help me. We’re being strangled by all these legal statutes.’

From the depths of his mind came a cold laugh from Roosevelt.

"There is no plan."

"Leo, lift your head."

"Have you forgotten? A leader sees the forest, while your team is counting the leaves."

Leo froze.

"Look at these people before you."

Roosevelt continued.

"They’re lawyers, technocrats. Their job is to bury themselves in paperwork, searching for insignificant logical loopholes."

"But you are not."

"You are the Mayor. You are a politician."

"Do you think this is a law exam? Do you think that as long as you answer the question correctly and find that one perfect statute, the professor will give you a perfect score?"

Roosevelt’s voice dripped with scorn.

"In this game, there are no professors, only a referee."

"And right now, that referee is Aston Monroe."

"Even if you had the best legal team in the country, even if you actually managed to find the perfect clause in that paper labyrinth to counter the ’statewide synergy’ argument, so what?"

"Monroe could immediately find another statute to shut you down."

"He could demand supplementary materials, require expert analysis, and postpone the hearing for three months, or six."

"He controls the administrative process."

"Do you have time to play these word games? How many of your twelve days are left?"

"Don’t seek justice from the defendant’s stand, Leo."

"Because it’s not your courtroom."

A chill shot through Leo’s body.

He looked at the lawyers still debating which amendment to use, and their voices suddenly seemed incredibly distant.

They were trying to stop an elephant with a single sheet of paper.

’Then what do I do?’ Leo asked himself. ’If the legal path is blocked, if the road to Harrisburg is cut off, where else can I turn?’

"Go over their heads."

Roosevelt provided the answer.

"Go to Washington."

Leo was even more confused.

’Washington? Sanders has already helped us immensely; he secured the funding. But he can’t deal with the administrative approvals in Harrisburg—that’s a matter of state authority. You said it yourself, he has no foundation in the state.’

’If even Sanders can’t manage it, what good would it do for me to go?’

’Monroe is deeply entrenched in Pennsylvania politics. His roots within the party go much deeper than Sanders’s.’

"No, you’re wrong."

Roosevelt’s voice grew somber.

"Sanders can’t solve this because, in this particular game, he only represents the Progressives."

"He has enemies within the party. When he speaks up in Harrisburg, Monroe can choose to ignore him—or even deliberately work against him."