Seven o’clock that evening, in the auditorium of the Carnegie Library.

The place was packed, and the air was thick with the smell of sweat.

Leo walked up to the podium.

From the audience, there was only a clamor of boos and hushed whispers.

He stood before the microphone, looking out at the faces in the crowd—some familiar, others strange.

A few college students sat in the front row, holding signs that read, "Give the Port Back to the People."

In the middle were several small business owners in jackets, each with their arms crossed, watching with cold indifference.

Only in a back corner sat some workers in orange vests. They were Frank’s men, and they looked a little lost.

"Good evening, Pittsburgh."

Leo began to speak.

"I know why you’re angry. I know that article about the port has left you feeling disappointed."

"Liar!" someone in the crowd shouted.

Leo paused for a moment but ignored the voice.

"But I’m not here today to make excuses."

Leo’s voice, amplified by the microphone, filled the auditorium, drowning out the rising and falling boos.

"I’m here to set the record straight."

"Those so-called exposé articles online, the ones accusing me of selling off city assets, are nothing but the most malicious slander against the Pittsburgh City Government."

Leo’s fingers tapped lightly on the podium.

"We have not sold anything."

"We acted in accordance with the Urban Redevelopment Act, following the strictest legal bidding procedures to bring in a strategic partner with substantial resources."

"This was a legal commercial contracting agreement aimed at saving our logistics industry, which is on the verge of collapse."

Leo’s gaze swept over the angry faces in the audience, and his tone hardened.

"As for the so-called antitrust lawsuit, that is nothing more than baseless political grandstanding—a malicious attack launched by our competitors to obstruct Pittsburgh’s revival. I assure you, the law will prove our innocence, and this lawsuit will be resolved."

"The choice we face is simple."

"Do we hold on to an old port and watch our city continue to decline?"

"Or do we bring in a professional operator to revitalize this asset and use the revenue it generates to improve all of our lives?"

"This isn’t a compromise."

Leo stared at the crowd.

"This is a necessary strategic step for the future of Pittsburgh."

Leo felt he had explained things clearly, that his logic was sound.

But the crowd’s reaction was not what he had expected.

A middle-aged man stood up. 𝙛𝒓𝒆𝙚𝒘𝒆𝓫𝙣𝓸𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝒄𝒐𝓶

His name was Smith, the owner of a small hardware store in the South District.

"Mr. Mayor, we have seen some of the ’revenue’ you’re talking about," Smith said. "The road in front of my house got paved, and for that, I thank you."

"But you sold the port to Morganfield. Do you know what that means? It means that from now on, whenever I want to bring in a shipment, he’s the one who sets the shipping fees. He can raise prices whenever he wants, and he can cut off supply whenever he wants."

"You paved a road, but to do it, you put our necks under that Vampire’s knife."

"What kind of development is that? It’s like drinking poison to quench your thirst!"

Smith’s words were met with a wave of agreement.

’This was the raw logic of the average citizen.’

’They wanted smooth roads, a thriving economy, and a revitalized city.’

’But they wanted it all for free, like pie falling from the sky.’

’If you told them, "To pave the roads, we need to cede some benefits to capital,"...’

’...they would jump up and call you a lapdog of the capitalists.’

’If you told them, "We don’t have the money to pave the roads right now because we’re trying to prevent a corporate monopoly,"...’

’...they would point their fingers in your face and call you an incompetent fool.’

’They wanted all the benefits of change without bearing any of the costs.’

’In their eyes, the perfect politician was a magician who could conjure bread out of thin air without needing to eat, sleep, or even obey the laws of economics.’

Following him, a young female student stood up.

She wore glasses, and her eyes were filled with disappointment.

"Mr. Wallace."

Her voice trembled slightly.

"We voted for you because you said you would break the old order. You said you would fight the big capitalists who control this city."

"We campaigned for you day and night, we defended you."

"And what happened?"

The student held up a campaign poster, which showed a photo of Leo giving a speech on a lawn.

"You’ve only been in office for a few months, and you’ve already become Morganfield’s partner."

"You tell us this is for development."

"That’s what Carter Wright used to say! It’s what every politician who sells us out says!"

"You’ve become the very person you used to hate!"

The accusation struck Leo like a whip across the face.

He tried to explain, "This isn’t a betrayal, it’s—"

"It is a betrayal!" the student shrieked.

She crumpled the poster in her hand into a ball and threw it fiercely at the podium.

The ball of paper landed at Leo’s feet.

Immediately after, a campaign pin inscribed with "Wallace: The People’s Choice" was thrown onto the stage.

CLINK.

The metal pin hit the floor with a sharp sound, then rolled to a stop by Leo’s shoe.

Leo looked down at the pin.

Sarah had designed it herself during the early days of his campaign. Only his earliest supporters owned one.

Now, it had been thrown back at him like trash.

The scene devolved into chaos.

Some people were cursing, while others tried to argue back.

The workers in the back row stood up.

"All of you, shut up!" an old worker roared. "What do you book-smart kids know? If it weren’t for the Mayor, I’d still be out of a job! I don’t care who runs the port, as long as I’m getting paid!"