novelnext Chapter 67 Praise to Kill
Chapter 67 Praise to Kill
Chapter 67 Praise to Death (Total 3200 words published)
In the morning, the sun rises in Pittsburgh as usual.
Leo walked into his prefab campaign headquarters in the South District.
He habitually picked up a newspaper from the folding table by the door.
That was the City Tribune, a newspaper that had long served as Cartwright's mouthpiece.
In order to monitor his opponents' movements in real time, Leo subscribed to it, usually to see what rumors they had made up about him that day.
But today, his hand froze in mid-air.
He thought he wasn't fully awake yet.
The newspaper's front page featured a large photograph of him giving a speech in the community yesterday.
The photos were very well chosen.
Sunlight shone on his profile as he rolled up his sleeves, pointed into the distance, and gazed with unwavering determination and hope.
This is not the kind of photo he usually sees in this kind of newspaper.
In the past, the photos chosen by this newspaper were either candid shots of him with his teeth bared and his face contorted in a menacing manner, or heavily shadowed, making him appear like a schemer.
What struck him even more astonishing was the huge black caption above the photo.
"Pittsburgh's Pride: The Responsibility of a Young Builder".
Leo felt a churning in his stomach.
He opened the newspaper and quickly skimmed through the articles.
There was no smear campaign, no rumors, no attacks on his character, and no distortion of his policies.
The entire article is filled with a nauseating amount of praise.
The article praised his "Pittsburgh Regeneration Plan" as "a rare, truly practical project that improves people's lives in recent years."
He was praised as "a model of setting aside partisan bias and focusing on solving practical problems."
Even at the end of the article, the author wrote with great emotion: "In Leo Wallace, we see the long-lost vitality of this steel city. He may be young, he may be impulsive, but his love for this city deserves our utmost respect."
Leo threw the newspaper on the table.
The newspaper slid across the table and bumped into Sarah's coffee cup.
"What the hell is this?" Frank walked in from outside, also holding the same newspaper.
"Have these sons of bitches changed their ways?" Frank cursed. "They used to portray us as nothing more than bandits ready to burn, kill, and plunder, but why are they suddenly singing our praises?"
Sarah sat in front of the computer, her brow furrowed.
"It's not just the newspaper," Sarah said, pointing to the screen. "Look at this."
The screen is showing a morning news program from a local Pittsburgh television station.
The host, usually known for his sharp tongue and attacks on progressive Democrats, was now smiling broadly as he commented on Leo's campaign.
"We always complain that young people today are too radical and unrealistic," the host said. "But Mr. Wallace has given us a surprise. Unlike Cortez, who only talks the talk, he's walking the walk. He's building roads and parks."
"This pragmatic spirit is exactly what our society has always advocated. If the Democratic Party had more people like him, our political environment would be much healthier."
Leo felt a chill creep up his spine.
This is even more terrifying than seeing them attack you.
"This is a case of flattery to kill." Karen walked in, threw her handbag on the chair, and looked serious.
Before the team could come up with a solution, the television screen switched to the city hall press conference.
Mayor Martin Cartwright appeared on the screen.
He was wearing a dark blue suit and looked very energetic.
A reporter asked him for his opinion on Leo Wallace's announcement of his candidacy.
Logically, this would be a perfect opportunity for the incumbent mayor to attack the challenger.
He could say that Leo lacks experience, that Leo's funding sources are questionable, and that Leo's policies would cripple the city's economy through tax increases.
But Cartwright did not.
He gave the camera a warm smile.
"This is good news," Cartwright said. "The essence of democracy lies in competition, and although Mr. Wallace is young, his work in the South District recently has been remarkable."
The mayor paused for a moment, then his tone became more sincere.
"I must admit that our city government has indeed overlooked certain details of community services. Mr. Wallace's actions are a valuable addition to our work. The energy he brings to the city is something all our municipal officials should learn from."
"Regardless of the outcome of this election, I believe that Mr. Wallace is an important asset for Pittsburgh's future. In fact, if he wishes, I would welcome him to City Hall at any time so that we can have a more in-depth discussion about the city's future development."
On television, Cartwright appeared elegant, generous, and tolerant.
Inside the campaign headquarters, off-screen, Frank stared wide-eyed, unable to close his mouth for a long time.
"Has this old bastard taken the wrong medicine?" Frank muttered to himself. "What is he doing? Is he campaigning for us?"
"No." Leo stared at Cartwright's fake smile on the screen, his voice icy. "He's poisoning me."
Leo's campaign team was in a state of extreme confusion all morning.
This attack method was completely beyond their expectations.
They are prepared to deal with smear campaigns, prepared to deal with rumors, and prepared to deal with administrative suppression.
But they were not prepared to respond to praise.
Especially the praise from the enemy.
Ethan Hawke sat in the corner, scrolling through data on social media.
"Something's not right," Ethan said. "While the mainstream media is praising you, there's a subtle shift in the level of discussion among our core supporters."
"What changes?" Leo asked.
“Confusion,” Ethan replied. “People are confused. They don’t understand why a mouthpiece of capital like the City Tribune would support you, they don’t understand why Cartwright would praise you. This confusion is brewing.”
"Mr. President, is this his tactic?" Leo asked Roosevelt in his mind.
Roosevelt's voice rang out.
"Cartwright has finally started to use his brain, or rather, the real mastermind behind him has started to guide him."
"This move is a hundred times more sophisticated than his previous tricks of arson and sealing off construction sites."
Leo wondered to himself, "What's his goal? To lower my guard?"
"No, son, his purpose is far more sinister than that," Roosevelt explained. "He wants to destroy your foundation."
"Think about it, who are your supporters? They are the workers who have been abandoned by the system, the young people who are dissatisfied with the status quo, and the angry people who hate the privileged class represented by Cartwright and Morganfield."
"They support you because you are a challenger."
"It's because you're standing opposite the city hall, opposite capital."
"You are the spear they use to pierce this corrupt system."
"But now, that system has suddenly opened its arms and embraced you."
Roosevelt's voice turned cold.
"When your supporters turn on the TV and see even the mayor they hate most praising you; when they open the newspaper and see even the mouthpiece of capitalists singing your praises."
"What will they think?"
"They won't think it's because you did a good job and conquered the enemy."
"They'll suspect that Leo Wallace made some kind of deal with them behind the scenes?"
"Has he been bribed?"
"Has he become one of them too?"
"Once this seed of doubt is planted, it will grow wildly in a person's mind, and it is more capable of undermining your base than any direct smear campaign."
"Cartwright wants to elevate you from a challenger to the people into an elite recognized by the system."
"Once you lose the label of 'dissident,' you are nothing in the eyes of your voters."
Leo looked at Sarah.
"Sarah, open the comments section of our YouTube channel, and also the related topics on X. I want to see the latest comments, the newest, real-time ones."
Sarah typed a few keys and projected the page onto the big screen.
Sure enough, the wind changed direction.
Beneath the praise reports from mainstream media, the comment sections were no longer filled with unanimous support and cheers.
A piercing sound began to appear and quickly spread.
"Why would a trashy newspaper like the Chronicle publish a piece of Qualio's work? Something's not right."
"Cartwright said he'd be welcome to City Hall? Have they already reached an agreement?"
"I knew it. All crows are black. This so-called revival plan is probably just a way to build up capital for future entry into the system."
"I see through him; he's just another hypocrite who's been recruited by the government."
"Although Alex Cortes was a bit stupid, at least he was genuinely anti-establishment. This Wallace, on the other hand, seems more like a successor groomed by the establishment."
Some radical young supporters even posted online, questioning: "Leo, you need to explain! Why are capitalists applauding you? Have you betrayed us?"
Frank's face turned bright red as he looked at the comments.
"What nonsense are these bastards spouting?" Frank roared. "We betrayed them? Where were they when we were eating dirt on the construction site? They believed a few words of praise from Cartwright?"
“That’s human nature, Frank,” Karen said coldly. “Voter’s suspicious, especially the radical voters, who are instinctively hostile to any appeasement from power, and Cartwright took advantage of that.”
Leo looked at the constant stream of questions popping up on the screen.
He felt caught in a dilemma.
If he were to stand up and berate Cartwright, saying he didn't care about Cartwright's praise, it would make him appear furious, rude, and like a mad dog that doesn't know what's good for him.
This confirms the previous accusations that he was "radical and dangerous".
If he accepts these compliments, even if it's just a polite thank you, it would confirm his suspicion of flirting with the pro-establishment camp.
Everything he does is wrong.
However, if we just wait and see and let public opinion ferment, no one can say for sure whether this public opinion will turn into a storm that destroys him.
Cartwright stood on the moral high ground, smiling as he cast his net, while Leo was like a fish caught in the net; the more he struggled, the tighter the net tightened.
"This is the real political battle, kid."
"Those previous tactics, like arson and seizure, were all thuggish methods."
"And that's what politicians do."
"kill without spilling blood."
Leo stood up and walked to the window.
Outside the window, workers were still working enthusiastically on the construction site.
But Leo knew that this pure enthusiasm for construction would soon be shrouded in the poisonous fog of public opinion.
If this impasse isn't broken soon, this skepticism will spread like a virus from the internet to reality, ultimately destroying the trust he has painstakingly built.