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Chapter 166 The Prophet
Chapter 166 The Prophet (Bonus Chapter for Monthly Tickets, 9/12)
Pittsburgh in August is sweltering.
This heat comes not only from the scorching sun overhead, but also from the incessant roar of machinery in the Mononga Hilla Valley, day and night.
The engineering framework of the inland port has been erected on the ground, with huge steel beams piercing the sky and countless welding sparks still dazzling under the scorching sun.
The air conditioning in the city hall was turned up very high.
Leo Wallace sat at the head of the conference table, twirling a pen in his hand.
Sitting opposite him were the mayors of various industrial cities within the Industrial Revitalization Alliance.
This time, they weren't wearing helmets, nor did they have the same bravado they had when they first formed an alliance.
Ron Smith was constantly wiping the sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief, while Joe Byers of Scranton appeared restless, his eyes darting around.
They've come to collect a debt.
Three months have passed.
Steel from Erie and cement from Scranton were continuously shipped into Pittsburgh.
Leo paid 30 percent in cash, as per the contract.
But the remaining 70% is still outstanding.
"Leo".
Ron finally couldn't take it anymore and threw the handkerchief on the table.
"My factory has been supplying you with goods for three months. To meet your schedule, we're working three shifts, and the machines are almost red-hot."
"Part of the payment was made in cash, but what about the remaining balance?"
He tapped on the table.
"My treasurer is pressuring me every day. Also, the state Republican Committee has called me three times, warning me not to get too close to Democrats like me, saying I'm aiding the enemy."
"If you don't settle the remaining balance soon, I won't be able to explain myself. I need to take the money back and shut those people up."
Joe Byers chimed in, "Yeah, Leo. It's the same in Scranton. Even though they have jobs, nobody's really confident. We need to see real money."
Leo looked at his anxious allies.
He knew what they were afraid of.
They feared that once the $500 million was burned through, Pittsburgh would be abandoned, leaving them with only a pile of unredeemed IOUs.
"money?"
"If I transfer all the remaining money to you now, what will you do with it?"
Leo's gaze swept over everyone present.
"Ron, you'll use this money to fill the pension hole left over from Erie a few years ago. Joe, you'll use it to repair the leaky roof of City Hall, or give it as a bonus to those civil servants who just drink tea all day."
"and then?"
"The money's all gone, the factory has no more orders, and the workers are unemployed again. You'll have to run back to Harrisburg and beg on your knees at the governor's door again."
Ron Smith frowned. "That's our business. We sold the goods, so we should get paid."
"No, that's something we do together."
Leo stood up.
"Ethan, show them the thing."
Ethan pressed the remote control.
The huge electronic screen on one side of the conference room lit up.
The screen displays a complex, dynamic flowchart.
That was a demo version of the regional industrial invoice platform that Arthur's team had worked day and night to create.
"Gentlemen, I don't intend to give you cash."
Leo pointed at the screen.
"But I'll give you this."
A golden icon popped up on the screen; it was the digitized symbol for "Accounts Receivable Equity Certificate".
"bill."
"What does this mean?" Ron Smith asked, bewildered. "You want to use this pile of electronic code to pay off your debt?"
"This isn't about settling debts; it's about investing."
Leo walked to the screen, his fingers moving along the flowing lines.
"Take a look at this closed loop."
"Pittsburgh owes Erie ten million for steel. I'm sending you a ten million in receipts."
"You don't need to exchange these ten million dollars for cash. You can use it directly to hire an idle construction team in Pittsburgh to renovate your port terminal that's been rotten for ten years in Erie."
Leo looked at Joe Byers.
"Joe, take the receipts Pittsburgh gave you. You can go to Johnstown and buy their newly manufactured glass to replace the windows at the school in Scranton."
"Johnston has the receipts, which he can use to pay Erie's shipping company so they can deliver the glass."
"In this system, we don't need banks, we don't need Wall Street, we don't even need the dollar."
"We exchange our products and services for each other's prosperity."
Leo's voice was alluring, but the reaction in the conference room was clearly the opposite of his enthusiasm.
Smith frowned, his fingers unconsciously circling on the table.
Biles' eyes darted around, clearly looking for an excuse to shirk responsibility.
"That sounds—very creative, Leo," Smith stammered. "But we're here to do business. The steel mill owners at Erie won't accept me going back with a bunch of electronic code to tell them:
"Hey, here's your payment. Take it and buy some cement."
“That’s right,” Byers immediately followed up. “The workers want dollars to buy bread, not notes. It’s too risky; we can’t accept a business without cash flow.”
They understood Leo's promise, but the promise was too hard to keep up with.
Leo placed his hands on the table and leaned forward.
"I know what you're worried about. I'm not going to leave you empty-handed when you face the workers and the IRS in this system."
"For each project, you will receive 60% of the cash, but I hope you can keep the rest."
"Put it into this rebuilding cycle."
"Take these receipts and go buy cement from Scranton, buy logistics services from Pittsburgh, and upgrade your production lines."
"The value it creates doubles every time this capital flows through our internal network."
"As long as this ticket is in circulation, the factory will not stop production, the trucks will not stall, and the workers will receive their wages."
"This is much more valuable than giving you a lump sum of cash that you'll spend all at once."
The meeting room fell into complete silence.
These seasoned veterans who had spent half their lives in local politics were stunned.
As they stared at the ever-evolving, cyclical graph on the screen, a wave of shock washed over them.
This is hardly a settlement system.
This is a country within a country.
Leo Wallace is attempting to bypass federal and state government financial oversight to establish an independent economic empire in western Pennsylvania.
"This is...this is insane."
Ron Smith muttered to himself.
"Leo, do you know what you're doing? You're pushing Harrisburg's limits."
"The state party leaders have been keeping a close eye on me. If I tell them that I didn't get my money back, but instead got a bunch of receipts that can only be used within this circle, and I have to use those receipts to hire your construction team—"
Smith shook his head, his face filled with fear.
"They'll say I'm divisive, they'll say I've become your vassal, and Senator Warren will come to Erie and tear me apart."
Joe Byers also shrank back: "Yeah, Leo, it's too risky. We just want to sell some cement, we don't want to get involved in this political storm."
Leo looked at them.
He saw fear, but he also saw greed.
"Mr. President," Leo thought to himself, "they wouldn't dare."
Roosevelt's voice echoed in my mind.
"Of course they wouldn't dare, because they're used to being slaves, used to having to watch their masters' faces."
"But, Leo."
"You've painted a huge pie in the sky for them, and now you're even giving them a bulletproof vest."
Leo straightened up, a smile spreading across his face.
"I know what you're afraid of."
"You're afraid of partisan purges, afraid of Harrisburg cutting off funding."
"But gentlemen, please use your brains and think about this."
"If you take the cash now and pay off old debts, then what? What will you do next year if the economy continues to decline and the state government cuts the budget?"
"You're all doomed."
"But," Leo pointed to the screen, "if this system gets up and running."
"If the Erie docks are repaired, and if more ships dock, your tax revenue will increase."
"If the schools in Scranton are renovated, the citizens will be satisfied."
"By then, will the Republican state committees dare to touch you, Ron?"
Leo stared into Ron Smith's eyes.
"When you stand on the brand-new dock, pointing to those busy cranes, and tell your constituents: Look, this is the change I've brought to you."
"Would Warren dare to criticize you?"
"In the rust belt, whoever can bring jobs is God."
"Party factions? Those are just games for rich people to play after they've had their fill."
Leo continued to increase his bets.
"Furthermore, you don't need to worry about the so-called crime of aiding the enemy."
"I will give this system a legal protective layer."
Leo paused for a moment, his eyes revealing a convincing certainty.
"I've spoken with Senator Sanders on the phone. He'll be pushing a federal bill in Washington about a pilot program for cross-regional economic cooperation, and our alliance will be the first testing ground for that bill."
"We will formally file with the U.S. Department of Commerce under the name of the Federal Economic Recovery Demonstration Zone."
Seeing that Smith's expression had relaxed slightly, Leo continued to increase his bets.
"And then there's Murphy. He's the official Democratic Senate nominee, and he'll make 'building a Rust Belt economy' a core part of his campaign platform."
"This means the entire Democratic propaganda machine will endorse us; we are paving the way for Pennsylvania's revival."
"If Harrisburg dares to interfere, if Warren dares to sabotage this."
Leo sneered.
"That would be obstructing the federal pilot program, undermining cross-regional economic cooperation, and isolating ourselves from the people of Pennsylvania."
"At that time, you won't have to worry about how to explain to the Party headquarters, because you will naturally be on the moral high ground."
"You put aside partisan differences and engaged in this cross-party cooperation for the sake of the city's workers' jobs, for the economic future of the entire state, and even in response to the federal government's call."
Leo spread his hands, looking at the group of mayors in front of him who were still hesitating.
"I don't care about reputation, nor do I care if only the Democratic Party benefits. I only care if this machine can get running, and if everyone can make money together."
Ron Smith was stunned.
The pie in the sky that Leo painted for him was not only big, but also looked very safe.
They have the backing of the federal government, the halo of morality, and they've even come up with the rhetoric for how to shirk political responsibility.
"How is it?"
Leo looked at those greedy yet hesitant faces.
"It's like taking a lump sum of cash that will soon be spent and going back to living a hard life."
"Or should we take this ticket to the future and, together with Pittsburgh, fight our way out of this rotten world?"
Silence descended once more.
But this time, the silence was no longer filled with fear, but with calculation.
Ron Smith picked up the handkerchief again and wiped the sweat from his neck.
He looked at the glittering closed loop on the screen, then at Leo standing in the shadows.
Yili's docks have indeed been in disrepair for a long time. If an engineering team were to come and repair them, it would not only create jobs but also save a significant amount of government funds.
This is a worthwhile deal.
However, this is all predicated on the premise that the so-called "ticket" is actually usable.
Smith is an old-fashioned man.
He believed in gold, in the dollar, and even in physical bars, but he found it hard to believe that a string of code jumping in a server could replace real money in paying workers' wages.
What if this is a trap?
What if Leo Wallace simply wanted to use their credit to fill Pittsburgh's own financial hole?
"Leo".
Smith spoke, his voice tinged with caution.
What you're saying sounds like a good point.
He paused, his gaze sweeping over Joe Byers and the other mayors beside him.
Everyone was watching him, waiting for him to make a statement.
"However, this is a big deal. It involves changing how our city settles its finances and even revising our procurement regulations."
Smith pointed to the thick stack of documents in Ethan's hand.
"Is that for us?"
Leo's eyes flickered slightly; he noticed Smith's hesitation.
"Of course." Leo took the documents from Ethan and pushed them in front of Smith. "These are the 'System Access Guide,' the 'Legal Disclaimer Memorandum,' and the 'Risk Hedging Plan' that our team prepared."
"very good."
Smith pulled the documents in front of him and pressed them down firmly with his palm.
"We need time, Leo. I need to take these things back and have my treasurer and the city council's legal advisor study them carefully."
"We are not economists. We need to be sure that when Yili's factory owners take these receipts to buy coal, the mine owners will not kick them out."
Joe Byers immediately chimed in, "That's right, Leo, this isn't something we can decide on a whim. We need to assess the risks; after all, if this system collapses, our city will truly go bankrupt."
They wanted to wait and see.
Leo did not force them to make a statement now, nor could they make one now.
"certainly."
Leo nodded.
"This certainly requires careful consideration. Take the documents back and study them thoroughly. Our technical team is ready to answer any questions you may have regarding system security and liquidity."
"However, gentlemen."
Leo straightened up, his tone carrying a hint of pressure.
"As I said, the Pittsburgh project won't stop, and neither will our procurement. If you don't take this order, someone else will."
"I'll wait for your news."
"You'd better hurry."
The meeting has ended.
The mayors, carrying those heavy documents, walked out of the conference room with heavy hearts.
Leo stood there, watching their figures disappear through the doorway.
The parking lot outside the city hall.
The afternoon sun was a bit too bright.
Ron Smith did not get in the car immediately.
He stood next to his Chevrolet SUV and lit a cigarette.
Joe Byers walked over, also holding the document in his hand.
The other mayors also tacitly gathered around.
There are no Pittsburgh people here, no Leo's eyes and ears; this is their safe zone.
What do you think?
Biles broke the silence first, her brow furrowed.
"That young man is very persuasive, and his logic sounds impeccable, but—a bill? Can it really work?"
"I didn't have the nerve to ask inside," the mayor of Johnstown interjected. "If my factory uses these receipts to pay wages, can the workers use them to buy bread at the supermarket? Will the supermarket accept them? If not, then they're all just worthless paper."
"I read in the documents that it can be used to offset taxes," Smith said, exhaling a smoke ring. "This means that the value of these receipts is our fiscal revenue; we are overdrawing future tax revenue to pay for current orders."
"This risk is too great."
Smith shook his head.
"And don't forget the political risks."
He lowered his voice and scanned his surroundings warily.
"That Wallace is a Democrat, and a lunatic from Sanders' faction. If we get too close to him, how will we explain it to the state party headquarters? How will we explain it to Senator Warren?"
"Murphy has won the primaries now." Byers hesitated. "The Democratic campaign committee is fully supporting Murphy now. The tide has turned a bit, and Warren is under a lot of pressure."
"It's precisely because of the pressure that Warren is going even crazier," Smith sneered. "Do you think those Republican bigwigs will just stand by and watch us side with the Democrats? They certainly won't dare to play that party-switching trick again. If we openly join Leo's so-called alliance now, we'll be poisoning Warren's mind."
"What should we do then?" a mayor asked anxiously. "The factory is pressing us hard. If we don't get the orders, I'll have to lay off workers next month. And if I lay off workers, I'll have to resign."
"Yes, we're going to die either way."
Smith threw the cigarette butt on the ground and crushed it out with the toe of his foot.
"Therefore, we need to be prepared for both possibilities."
He glanced at his colleagues around him, his eyes turning cunning.
"We'll take the documents back as a gesture, to show that we're seriously studying them and actively pushing forward. This will reassure Leo and get him to hold the orders with us. With the advance payment, at least the workers' wages can be guaranteed."
"But we won't sign off on this system." Smith raised the document in his hand and added, "At least not now."
"We'll let the factory take the order and start production first, if they really want to settle the payment using that kind of invoice—"
Smith paused.
"We'll accept the receipt, but we'll keep a backup plan."
"What backup plan?"
"If these bills cannot be cashed out, and if the workers cause trouble because they can't get cash..."
"We'll take the fire to Pittsburgh."
"We told the workers that it was Leo Wallace who cheated us, that he traded our steel and cement for a bunch of waste paper, and that he was the one who caused everyone to go hungry."
"We are the victims; we were also fooled by that smooth-talking young mayor."
"Shift the blame to Pittsburgh, shift it to the Democratic Party."
"That way, we can also say something to Warren: Look, we were tricked by the Democrats' scam, we are victims too."
Byers' eyes lit up.
"Brilliant, Ron. This strategy secures the order while mitigating political risks. If it succeeds, we'll share the profits; if it fails, Leo Wallace will be the scapegoat."
"That's right."
Smith straightened his suit.
"And don't forget Aston Monroe."
"Although he lost to Murphy in the primary, he is still the lieutenant governor. He can't openly confront Murphy, who is a candidate for senator, but he definitely has the ability and motivation to take down a Pittsburgh mayor."
"If we fall out with Leo, Monroe would be more than happy to provide us with ammunition, and even help us investigate the Pittsburgh accounts."
"This is a perfect way out."
The mayors exchanged glances, each seeing a tacit understanding in the other's eyes.
They are politicians.
The first rule for politicians to survive is never to solve problems, but to shift blame.
"Then it's settled."
Smith patted the car door.
"Go back and tell those factory owners that the orders have been secured and to get them to start production. As for the money—delay it for now."
"Let's take it one step at a time."
The convoy started moving.
The black SUV drove out of the parking lot, merged into the traffic of Pittsburgh, and headed towards their respective cities.
They took the documents, they took the hope, and they took a bomb that could explode at any moment.
On the third floor of the city hall, Leo stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, looking down at the departing convoy.
Ethan stood to the side, he hesitated for a long time, and finally couldn't help but speak.
"Leo, there's a question I've always wanted to ask you."
Ethan's eyes held a hint of confusion.
"I'm constantly in contact with Senator Sanders' office, and I can even access their latest legislative schedule. But I've never heard of him pushing any bill for a cross-regional economic cooperation pilot program in Washington."
"Was this a private call between you two? Or did I miss some important memo?"
Leo turned around and looked at Ethan.
"No private calls, Ethan. You didn't miss anything."
"Leo said calmly."
"I never mentioned this to Sanders."
Ethan was stunned.
His brain short-circuited for a moment, as if he had heard something unbelievable.
"What? You didn't mention it?"
"So you just told them—you just told them that this is a federal pilot program, that this is Sanders' will, that this is the endorsement of the entire Democratic Party?"
"Are you lying to them?!"
"It's not a lie, Ethan."
Leo shook his head.
"I was just telling them in advance what was going to happen in the future."
"
Leo walked to the desk.
"Just think about it, if these seven cities really sign the agreement, if this huge closed-loop supply chain really starts operating, if it really solves the employment problem for tens of thousands of workers."
Will Sanders refuse to acknowledge this as his achievement? Will the Democrats refuse to recognize it as one of their accomplishments?
""
"They will pounce like sharks smelling blood, scrambling to claim that this is a long-planned strategy and a great victory for their progressive ideals."
"At that time, I won't even need to apply for the title of federal pilot program; Washington will just hand it to me."
"I simply rearranged the order of cause and effect slightly."
"Once they get on the ship, once they start the machine, then that legitimate future will be a natural consequence."
"The result is the same anyway."
Ethan stared at Leo, his mouth agape, unable to utter a single word for a long time.
He had always thought Leo was a radical idealist, but he never imagined that Leo would be radical to this extent.
He is using a future that hasn't even been born yet to erode the trust of the present.
Ethan recalled Leo's expression when he spoke; his tone and eyes didn't seem like a lie fabricated to convince someone.
It was a certainty that was almost prophetic.
It was as if Leo had traveled through time and space, witnessed that future firsthand, saw Sanders endorsing it on the podium, and saw the Democratic Party include this project in its platform.
He is stating a fact, only that this fact will happen in the future.
"You—" Ethan swallowed hard. "You're a madman."
"Thank you for the compliment."
Leo smiled and turned his gaze back to the window.
"In this crazy world, only those who are crazier than it can survive."
"And," Leo's voice lowered, "they didn't actually believe it."
"After these people go back, they will definitely try to leave themselves a way out, explain to their party headquarters, and consult their lawyers."
"If I were them, I wouldn't believe it either."
Leo showed no disappointment.
"A financial system I've never seen before, a bunch of invisible and intangible electronic codes, trying to exchange tens of millions of dollars in physical assets—any normal person would think this is a scam."
"But they will still sign in the end."
"Because they had no choice."
"Go to work, Ethan."
Leo patted Ethan on the shoulder.
"Create that system."
"Make it real."
"That way, I won't be a liar."
"I am the prophet."