Chapter 635 - 297: First, Let’s Pretend We Have a Chicken

Like iron filings to a magnet, all eyes in the room eventually converged on Ron Smith, seated at one side of the long table.

The Mayor of Erie City was the senior member of the Alliance and the veteran Politician who had been one of Leo’s earliest supporters.

He was currently staring at the ten-billion-dollar figure on the screen, a sense of frailty washing over him as his reason took a violent blow.

Ten billion US Dollars.

For these Mayors, who were used to going to Harrisburg and begging on their hands and knees for just a few million, or even tens of millions, of US Dollars, this figure was beyond the limits of their imagination.

That was enough money to buy half of Pennsylvania.

Ron knew that at a time like this, someone had to step up and break the suffocating silence.

He pushed aside the cup of coffee in front of him, half of which had already spilled. The coffee stain spread across the snow-white tablecloth like an ugly rust spot.

"Leo."

Ron began to speak slowly.

"We’ve seen the true colors of those assemblymen in Harrisburg during the hearings. Every single one of them has at least two Lobbying Groups standing behind them."

"They aren’t philanthropists, and they certainly aren’t your believers."

"Right now, your drug price bill is still locked in Kaufman’s committee drawer, without even a chance to see the light of day."

"Under these circumstances, you’re actually telling us to ask the State Assembly for ten billion?"

Ron shook his head. "This sounds like pure fantasy."

The other Mayors began to shift uncomfortably, the sound of chair legs scraping against the floor echoing through the meeting hall.

They needed money, but they were more afraid of following a madman into the abyss.

Ron took a deep breath, his tone turning extremely serious.

"Let’s not talk about whether this can be done, or about those damned political stances."

"Leo, as your allies, first tell us what you want to do. What path do you intend to take to turn this plan, which sounds even less plausible than a moon base, into a reality?"

"You tell us your methods first, and then we’ll talk about how possible it actually is."

Leo sat at the head of the table, twirling the Montblanc Pen in his hand.

’This is exactly the kind of sober questioning I need right now.’

Leo put down the pen, stood up, and slowly walked to the large screen.

His shadow stretched long before the ten-billion-dollar figure, covering the long string of zeros.

"Gentlemen, listen up."

"Every word I’m about to say is a key to our control of Pennsylvania."

"Step one: administrative leverage."

Leo looked at Joe Byers, the Mayor of Scranton.

"Joe, there are three cement plants in your city."

"Before, they were major taxpayers, and you were their servant. They wanted to expand, you had to approve the land. They wanted to discharge waste, you had to turn a blind eye."

"Starting today, those rules are going to change."

Leo’s finger tapped hard on the tabletop.

"All companies that want a piece of this ten-billion-dollar infrastructure project must sign a new type of dynamic contract."

Leo laid out his conditions.

"We’re going to bundle the factory’s healthcare access, medical insurance payments, land use permits, and pollution discharge permits—all of it—into this contract."

"We will establish a digital, real-time oversight platform. The production data, energy consumption data, and even the payroll records for every single worker of every winning company must be uploaded in real-time to our city hall servers."

"We’re going to tell these bosses: you can have your profits, you can even have excess profits. But the right to manage and the right to the data must remain in the government’s hands."

Ron frowned. "They’ll never agree. This is a violation of trade secrets."

"They will."

Leo sneered.

"Because the allure of ten billion US Dollars is too great."

"In this economic winter, no one but us can give them an order this big. To survive, to get a bite of this meat, they will sell out anything."

"And another thing," Leo’s voice grew even more chilling.

"We will include a public interest redemption clause in the contract."

"The moment the system detects they’ve falsified data, or tried to threaten the government with layoffs, or become politically disobedient..."

"...we will have the right to immediately revoke their operating licenses."

"Not just a work stoppage."

"We will directly initiate an administrative takeover. City hall will seize the factory and hand it over to another, more compliant company."

"This is the sword that will hang over their heads."

Joe Byers cleared his throat and spoke cautiously. "Leo, about this redemption clause you mentioned... we’ve actually tried to add similar constraints to municipal contracts before."

"They weren’t as aggressive as what you’re demanding, but they were there. The problem is, the legal teams for these big corporations always find loopholes. They sue us, drag things out in lengthy legal proceedings, and in the end, it usually comes to nothing."

"That’s right," Ron Smith chimed in. "Simple contractual obligations aren’t enough. We need something more constructive. If this is all you’ve got, then there isn’t much point in us holding this meeting today."

Leo wasn’t thrown off by the questions; he even showed a hint of a smile.

"Of course, that’s not enough."

He stood up, walked to a whiteboard, picked up a black marker, and drew a pyramid.

"Why does it always come to nothing? Because you’re trying to solve the problem within the legal framework. But the law in the United States, at its very root, was never designed for people like us—for chief executives."