Chapter 277: Chapter 139: Eye of the Tiger

The heavy courtroom doors slowly closed behind him with a dull THUD.

Guards blocked the media reporters trying to rush in. Flashes flickered wildly beyond the police line, like a restless silver sea.

Leo walked alone down the long corridor. Ethan was inside, handling the legal paperwork. He was completely alone.

But he couldn’t get out.

At the end of the corridor, a group of bodyguards in black suits formed a wall, blocking the only path to the exit.

Morganfield stood in front of that wall.

This Pittsburgh oligarch, who held court and dictated fortunes in cigar rooms, now looked like an enraged beast.

The muscles in his face twitched uncontrollably. His eyes, usually half-closed, were now wide open and bloodshot.

He hadn’t just lost a priceless port franchise.

More importantly, he had been played for a fool by a mere upstart, right in front of the entire city’s media and a federal judge.

Leo stopped, standing three meters away from Morganfield.

"A brilliant performance, Mr. Wallace."

Morganfield’s voice was low, laced with a chilling coldness.

"I’ve been in the business world for forty years. I’ve seen all kinds of crooks and robbers, but I have to admit, you’re the one who disgusts me the most."

He took a step forward, raising his cane until the tip was nearly poking Leo in the chest.

"You won the lawsuit. You used that suicide tactic to tear up our agreement and abolish the franchise."

"But, young mayor, have you lost your mind?"

A cold sneer appeared on Morganfield’s lips.

"Have you forgotten who’s providing the credit backing for your five-hundred-million-dollar bonds? Or who owns Pittsburgh’s only rail transport network and construction capacity?"

"You just personally burned your only lifeboat."

Morganfield glanced around, as if showing off his absolute dominance in this domain.

"In all of Pittsburgh, who else but me can help you build that damn port? Who has the technology? Who has the capital? Who has the heavy machinery?"

"Without me, your port will never be more than a piece of paper. Your bonds will default, and your revitalization plan will fall apart."

"You’re going to die a miserable death, Leo."

"I will use all my resources to make every bank refuse you and every contractor stay away from you. I will watch you slowly rot in the mayor’s office, and watch the citizens you deceived tear you to pieces."

Morganfield wasn’t bluffing.

He controlled the means of production, the supply chain, the very industrial lifeblood of this city.

In the world of traditional business logic, offending him was a death sentence.

Leo looked at the cane pointing at him.

He simply raised a hand, deliberately adjusted his slightly messy collar, and then straightened his back.

"Mr. Morganfield."

Leo began to speak.

"I think you’ve misunderstood something."

He reached out and gently pushed the cane aside.

"I didn’t burn the lifeboat."

"I just threw overboard the captain who was trying to drill a hole in the bottom of the boat, who wanted to drown everyone on board so he could have the cargo all to himself."

Leo took a step forward, and the pressure he projected made Morganfield’s bodyguards instinctively tense their muscles.

"You think you have a monopoly on the technology? A monopoly on the construction capacity? A monopoly on the right to build in this city?"

"That’s because for the past few decades, every mayor of Pittsburgh has knelt before you, begging for scraps from your table. They let you think this city can’t run without you."

"But I’m not one of them."

Leo’s voice rose slightly.

"That bullshit of yours about ’no development without capital’ doesn’t work on me."

"Look outside."

Leo pointed to the citizens and reporters beyond the police line who, though held back, were still peering in their direction.

"Starting today, the rules have changed."

"Pittsburgh doesn’t belong to the Morganfields."

"It belongs to the people."

"I will build that port, but not your way. I will prove that even without vampires like you, the citizens of this city can still build our own future with our own two hands."

With that, Leo didn’t spare Morganfield another glance.

He turned and strode past the oligarch, who stood frozen in place.

His shoulder bumped Morganfield’s, but he didn’t pause, walking swiftly toward the exit.

Morganfield stood rooted to the spot, his hands trembling.

He turned his head to watch Leo’s retreating back. It was a resolute, lonely figure, yet it was filled with a power that terrified him.

It was a wild power he could not comprehend.

He wanted to call out to Leo, to threaten him some more, but he found he couldn’t speak.

Because he realized his bargaining chips were meaningless to someone who had already flipped the table.

The courthouse doors slowly opened.

The unobstructed afternoon sun stabbed at Leo’s eyes, making him squint.

He walked down the steps and stood in the plaza.

In truth, his current situation was extremely dangerous.

He had offended the Democratic Party’s Establishment Faction and lost the support of Washington; he had humiliated Morganfield, cutting off his largest local source of funding and technical support.

Although he had five hundred million in the bank, without a construction contractor and the supporting railway, the Inland Port expansion project still couldn’t get off the ground.

He had backed himself into a corner, both politically and economically.

But he felt an unprecedented sense of relief.

As if he had shed a yoke he had long carried.

’Alright, Leo.’

Roosevelt’s voice sounded in his mind.

’That was a beautiful speech just now. Very imposing. You really pissed off that old bastard.’

’But let’s get back to reality.’

’Money alone can’t accomplish anything.’

’Five hundred million US Dollars sitting in an account is just a meaningless string of numbers. It only becomes capital when that money starts to flow—when it turns into rebar, concrete, and diesel fuel.’

’Without Morganfield, how do you plan to get that money flowing?’

’The port construction project is a beast that devours materials. You’ll need tons of steel, a fleet of cement mixers, and the heavy excavators and cranes that only Morganfield has.’

’Do you think you can just buy all that now that you have the money?’

’If you can’t buy the materials and can’t hire the engineers, your port project will be suspended indefinitely.’

’And Murphy’s campaign is built on the promise that this port will be built. If construction never starts, the voters will see Murphy as a liar.’

’So, breaking with Morganfield is easy. It just takes a minute of courage.’

’But finding someone in Pittsburgh who can replace him is harder than climbing to heaven.’

Leo stood in the sunlight and took a deep breath.

He watched the light glittering on the distant Allegheny River.

"I know, Mr. President."

"Here in Pittsburgh, in this city layered in capital and the old order, I really can’t find anyone to help."

Leo’s lips curved up slightly.

"But who says I have to look in Pittsburgh?"

"We’re going to look elsewhere."

’Where?’ Roosevelt asked.

Leo started walking, heading down the courthouse steps.

The police line finally broke, and the media and anxious citizens surged forward like a tide.

"Mayor Wallace!"

A reporter shoved a voice recorder nearly into Leo’s face, his tone aggressive.

"You just announced in court that the port will be re-bid. This means the Morganfield Industrial Group will pull out completely. Does this mean the Inland Port expansion project is effectively dead?"

Beside him, a man in work clothes pushed through the crowd and shouted anxiously, "Leo! What about our jobs? If you don’t build the port, we’ll be out of work again!"

More questions were hurled at him.

"Without Morganfield’s technical support, who will be responsible for the automation upgrades?"

"Will you resign?"

"Is this all just a political stunt?"

Leo stopped.

He stood in the middle of the steps and did not avoid the sharp questions.

His gaze swept over the flashing camera lenses before finally landing on the anxious worker’s face.

"The project will not be shelved."

"The monopoly agreement is over. The dirty deal is dead. But the port project—it’s still alive."

"Not only is it alive, but it will be cleaner and stronger than before."

The reporter pressed, "But Mr. Mayor, be realistic! In Pittsburgh, who besides Morganfield has the ability to take on such a huge project? Who has the rail network? Who has the heavy machinery?"

Leo looked at the reporter with an indifferent expression, pushed aside the microphone in front of him, and continued down the steps.

"Where are you going?" the reporter shouted after him. "Where are you going to find a replacement?"

Leo didn’t answer the media.

He got into the mayor’s official car and closed the door.

’To the places everyone has forgotten.’

Leo said to Roosevelt in his mind.

’To the places that once built the glory of American industry but are now seen as scrap heaps by Wall Street and Silicon Valley.’

The car started, its engine letting out a low rumble as it drove off in the direction of City Hall.

Leo watched the gray buildings recede rapidly outside the window, his gaze growing deep and vast.

’To the depths of the Rust Belt.’

’That’s where we’ll find everything we need. Idle machines, underestimated technology, and souls who, like us, are hungry for revenge and rebirth.’

’Morganfield thinks that by blockading Pittsburgh, he’s sealed my fate.’

Leo’s fingers tapped lightly on the edge of the car window.

’But he forgot that Pittsburgh is just one link in the Rust Belt.’

’Now, I’m going to awaken those sleeping allies.’