"Yeah! What’s wrong with Morganfield? At least he pays on time!"

"You middle-class types are so dramatic!"

The workers’ support didn’t bring Leo any relief.

On the contrary, it only exacerbated the divisions in the hall.

The People’s Alliance—once a broad coalition united around Leo, encompassing students, workers, and small business owners—was now collapsing completely here in the auditorium of the Carnegie Library.

They blamed and hated each other.

"You short-sighted pigs!" the female student who’d thrown her badge screamed at the workers in the back, her face flushing crimson. "You sold this city’s soul for a measly paycheck! You don’t understand the first thing about democracy! You’re feeding a monster!"

"Fuck your soul!"

An old worker in the back shot to his feet, veins bulging on his neck, spittle flying.

"My kids have to eat! I have to pay my rent! What right do you educated kids, sipping Starbucks on your parents’ credit cards, have to lecture us? Starve for three days, and then we’ll see if you’re still talking about some goddamn soul!"

The small business owners in the middle looked on with cold detachment, occasionally chiming in with sarcasm. "Stop arguing. It doesn’t matter if it’s for souls or for bread; in the end, it’s us taxpayers who get screwed." 𝕗𝐫𝚎𝗲𝘄𝐞𝕓𝐧𝕠𝘃𝕖𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝚖

"Morganfield has a monopoly on the port, and our shipping costs are going up. Who’s going to foot the bill? It just gets passed on to consumers in higher prices!"

The hall descended into chaos.

The class divide, at that moment, seemed deeper than the Grand Canyon.

Standing on the stage, Leo became the focal point of all this conflict.

Watching the scene unfold, he was suddenly at a loss for words.

He had an arsenal of arguments ready.

He wanted to tell them that this was the price of politics.

He wanted to tell them that for the greater good—to keep this city alive, to keep this sinking ship afloat—some sacrifices were necessary, and some dirty deeds were inevitable.

But he opened his mouth, and no sound came out.

He knew no one wanted to listen.

And no one cared about his grand narrative for the city’s future.

To the students, the bottom line was purity. To the merchants, it was freedom. To the workers, it was bread.

And under the crushing gravity of reality, it was impossible to satisfy all three at once.

The meeting ended abruptly.

Under the escort of security, Leo made a humiliating exit from the auditorium.

He got into the car and shut the door.

The clamor from outside was shut out, leaving only the silence within the car.

Ethan sat in the passenger seat, his head lowered, not daring to look in the rearview mirror.

Sarah sat next to Leo, tightly clutching the tablet in her hands.

"They don’t understand," Sarah said softly, as if to comfort Leo, but also herself. "They don’t know what you paid to get that money."

Leo didn’t speak.

He leaned back against the seat, watching the streetscape recede outside the window.

The dim yellow streetlights stretched the shadows long.

He felt a loneliness he had never known before.

It wasn’t the loneliness of being physically alone, but the loneliness of being utterly misunderstood.

For the sake of this city, he had turned himself into a politician who’d made a deal with the Demon.

He thought that as long as the outcome was good, people would forgive his methods.

But he was wrong.

In this city, he was the only sinner.

He fixed the roads, but he’d gotten his hands dirty.

People walked on the smooth roads he’d paved, yet they pointed at his dirty hands and called him a traitor.

"How does it feel, kid?"

Roosevelt’s voice sounded.

’Cold,’ Leo answered in his mind.

This cold was ten thousand times more bone-chilling than the air conditioning in Morganfield’s cigar lounge.

It was the chill of being misunderstood, the chill of being betrayed by his own people.

"This is governing," Roosevelt said.

"When you’re campaigning, you’re a mirror. Everyone can see the perfect illusion they want to see in you."

"When you govern, you’re a hammer. Every nail you drive bruises someone’s hand."

"You can’t make everyone happy."

"That girl who threw the badge, she hates you because you shattered her illusion of perfection."

"That shopkeeper hates you because you moved his cheese."

"Only the worker who got paid supports you, because you gave him a job."

"You have to make a choice, Leo."

"Are you going to be the saint in the eyes of those students, or the savior in the eyes of those workers?"

"You can’t be both."

The car stopped at the side entrance of City Hall.

Ethan and Sarah looked at Leo, wanting to say something, to offer him some comfort on this terrible night.

"Get out," Leo said. "Go home. Tomorrow morning at eight, I want to see you both, completely devoid of emotion."

The two of them looked at Leo’s cold, hard profile, but ultimately said nothing. They just opened their doors and got out.

Leo dismissed the driver, got into the driver’s seat himself, started the car, and floored it.

The black sedan plunged into the Pittsburgh night, racing up the winding mountain road.

As he gained altitude, the city’s clamor was left behind.

The scenery rushed past the windows, as if he were escaping the mortal realm, a world filled with both fervent hope and furious condemnation.

Mount Washington, the observation deck by the Duken Slope Cable Car Station.

This was Pittsburgh’s highest point, a place Leo had visited during his campaign.

Back then, he had stood in the rain looking out over the city, his eyes filled with the urge to conquer it. He had felt an intimate connection to the twinkling lights below.