novelnext Chapter 82 This is the easiest part.
Chapter 82 This is the easiest part.
Chapter 82 This is the easiest part (Bonus chapter for Alliance Leader "Xiaobing will always support you")
The mayor's office is on the third floor of the city hall.
The lights were off in the room.
Only the city lights streaming in through the window, mixed with the rain that had been falling non-stop from morning till night.
Martin Cartwright sat alone behind that large desk.
The table was no longer piled high with documents; there was only a thin sheet of paper.
That was the final statistical projection that his campaign manager, Scott Reed, had handed in with trembling hands ten minutes earlier.
Reed didn't even dare to look him in the eye, and left as if fleeing after putting down the paper.
As a seasoned veteran of Pittsburgh politics, he only needed to glance at the data from a few key constituencies on that piece of paper to know the outcome.
The South District, the slum he once regarded as a garbage dump, has now become his grave.
The voter turnout there was as high as 85 percent, and Leo Wallace received almost 100 percent of the votes.
In the union stronghold he had always thought was impregnable, the union leaders who had once called him brother had lost control.
Ignoring their leader's instructions, the workers cast their votes en masse for the young man who ate boxed lunches with them on the construction site.
Even the middle class, who live in suburban detached houses and abhor turmoil, betrayed him this time.
He led Leo by less than two percentage points in the middle-class community.
Politically, this was a massacre.
A crushing defeat with no excuses.
Cartwright reached out and picked up his favorite cigar from the corner of the table.
He picked up the cigar cutter, skillfully cut off the cap, and then put the cigar in his mouth.
He fumbled for the lighter.
With a "snap".
The flames flickered in the darkness, illuminating his aged face.
He took a deep breath, and the pungent taste made him a little more awake.
He lost.
They lost to a kid who couldn't even afford rent two years ago.
He lost to a "keyboard warrior" whom he considered an ant and thought he could crush at will.
He underestimated the young man, and even more so, he underestimated the long-suppressed anger in the city.
He thought that as long as he got Morganfield on his side, Washington on his side, and those union leaders on his side, he could stay in that position forever.
He forgot that ultimately, it was the ordinary people queuing outside in the rain who decided who would sit in that chair.
When those who were silent break their silence, when those who were ignored decide to speak out.
Any power struggle, any money, any lofty schemes all seem so fragile, so vulnerable.
"Ring ring one"
The phone on the table suddenly rang.
Cartwright's hand trembled, and the ash fell onto the table.
He stared at the phone.
At this point, only one person can call in.
Cartwright watched as the phone rang three, four, five times.
He reached out and picked up the receiver.
"Feed".
The voice of Leo Wallace came from the other end of the phone.
Good evening, Mr. Mayor.
"I am Leo Wallace."
Cartwright leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.
"I knew it was you."
"Mr. Mayor, whatever happened in the past, I want to say—"
Leo seemed to be organizing his thoughts, trying to maintain his composure at this moment, or say a few polite words.
"No need to say anything, child."
Cartwright interrupted him.
He opened his eyes and looked at the ceiling.
"I saw it all."
"The data is clear: you've won in the South, the North Shore, and even Auckland."
Cartwright's tone was eerily calm.
"Congratulations, Mr. Wallace."
He paused, then corrected his form of address.
"No, I should call you Mr. Mayor-to-be."
"Pittsburgh is yours now."
There was a few seconds of silence on the other end of the phone.
Leo seemed surprised that Cartwright would concede so directly and so readily.
"Thank you, Mr. Mayor," Leo's voice came through. "It's been a tough campaign, I—"
"Oh.
"
Cartwright let out a dry laugh.
"Don't get me wrong, Wallace."
Cartwright sat up straight, looking out the window at the dark, rainy night and the occasional flash of police lights in the distance.
"My congratulations aren't out of genuine happiness for you."
"I'm sympathizing with you."
"Sympathy?" Leo's voice carried a hint of doubt.
"Yes, sympathy."
Cartwright stubbed out his cigar in the crystal ashtray, grinding it vigorously until the embers were completely extinguished.
"You must be feeling great right now, right?"
"You think you've conquered the world, you think you've trampled all of us old guys under your feet, you think you've finally got the key that can change everything."
"I was young once too, Leo. Twenty years ago, I was just like you, standing on the steps of the city hall, thinking I could turn the world upside down."
"But listen to my advice."
Cartwright's voice turned low.
"You'll soon find that winning this damn election is the easiest and simplest thing you'll encounter in the next four years."
"Even the things we did to you during the election campaign, the smears, the suppression, are nothing compared to what you will face after you sit in this chair."
"You've won, but this is just the beginning."
"What you're about to face is the hell I've been facing every day for the past eight years."
Budget deficits, pension fund black holes, insufficient police force, aging infrastructure, and those things you can't see yet...
"Like vampires, they're watching your vested interests."
"They will appear at your door every morning at the same time, smiling, with a knife in their hand."
"You'll find that your power is actually pitifully small, and that your ideals are as fragile as a piece of paper in the face of reality."
""
"You'll suffer from insomnia, you'll experience anxiety, you'll have to shake hands with the people you hate the most, and you'll have to sign those disgusting documents."
"Until one day, you became me."
Cartwright finished speaking without waiting for Leo's response.
"Alright, enjoy your night, Mr. Mayor."
I won't disturb your celebration.
"Click".
The phone hangs up.
Cartwright put the receiver back on the landline.
ended.
everything is over.
He stood up.
He sat in this room for eight years.
Every inch of carpet and every piece of furniture here bears his mark.
He once issued orders here, received distinguished guests here, and plotted conspiracies here.
This was once his kingdom.
But now, this place no longer belongs to him.
Those documents and those photos have lost all meaning for him.
He only picked up the black trench coat hanging on the coat rack.
He bought it when he was still a district councilor. It was old and worn, but he kept it all this time.
He put on his trench coat, turned up the collar, and walked towards an inconspicuous side door in the corner of the office.
It was a private passageway known only to the mayor, leading directly to the back alley of the city hall.
Cartwright pushed open the door and walked into the dark stairwell.
Footsteps echoed in the empty stairwell.
He stepped down from his pedestal and into the rainy night.
A few minutes later, at the back door of Pittsburgh City Hall.
A solitary figure emerged.
The rain continued to fall, showing no sign of stopping despite the departure of an important figure.
Martin Cartwright, a powerful figure who ruled Pittsburgh for eight years.
He hunched his shoulders, put his hands in his trench coat pockets, and lowered his head.
His hunched back quickly disappeared into the thick darkness and rain.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the city...
In that prefab office filled with cheers and champagne.
Leo held the phone, which had already been disconnected, for a long time without putting it down.
Cartwright's last words still echoed in his ears.
"You'll soon find that winning the election is the easiest part of being in this position."
Leo turned his head and looked out the window.
Pittsburgh was brightly lit in the rain.
Beneath those countless lights are countless families, countless expectations, and countless heavy burdens that will soon fall on his shoulders.
Roosevelt's voice echoed softly in his mind.
"He's right, son."
"Welcome to Hell."
"But don't be afraid."
"Because only by passing through hell can we reach heaven."