Chapter 637 - 297: Let’s Pretend We Have a Chicken

Scranton Mayor Joe Byers frowned. He was clearly having trouble digesting this complex political structure.

"Leo, this thing sounds like it’s no different in essence from the unions we have now," Byers began. "They do the same things: supervise the bosses, fight for worker benefits, and rally political support during elections."

"The only difference is that your committee sounds smaller and more radical."

"The difference is huge, Joe."

Leo shook his head and walked to the whiteboard. Next to the words "Health and Production Committee," he drew an arrow pointing down to the word "Factory," and another arrow pointing up to "Revival Alliance Headquarters."

"Traditional unions are bottom-up organizations of workers. Their legitimacy comes from the authorization of the workers, and they are independent of, and even adversarial to, the government."

"So, when they want to negotiate with the bosses or the government, the only weapon they have is a strike. They can only demand higher wages by halting work, but they can’t interfere with production itself, nor can they directly influence macro-level political decisions."

Leo drew an X over the word "strike."

"Our committee, on the other hand, is a top-down regulatory body."

Leo’s pen jabbed heavily at the box representing "Revival Alliance Headquarters."

"Its power comes from us. From the contracts we hold, from the funds we control. We are the ones who make the rules."

"Therefore, our arsenal is much more diverse."

"In addition to standard collective bargaining rights, this committee also possesses the authority to supervise factory production processes, audit financial statements, and conduct political reviews of district representatives."

Leo looked at the mayors seated before him.

"We don’t need to manage every factory. That would be exhausting and foolish. We only need to control the factories that take our orders—the capital we’ve integrated into our closed-loop supply chain."

The conference room fell completely silent.

This design stripped capitalists of their political privilege as "job providers," reducing them to mere tools of production.

But Leo knew full well that this system of worker oversight had an inherent structural flaw on Pennsylvania soil.

Pennsylvania law does not include a "recall vote" provision.

This meant that no matter how terrible a representative’s performance was, as long as they weren’t sent to prison, the voters had to wait until the next election to replace them.

This gave those veteran politicians enough of a buffer to manipulate procedures and wear down public opinion.

But this was precisely the hook Leo had planted.

The system he was now pushing would inevitably hit a ceiling in the future because of this very flaw.

When that time came, he could logically step forward and point the finger at the state’s outdated Constitution.

He would tell voters across the state that the problem wasn’t with their system, but with a state law that protected do-nothing politicians.

He would use this opportunity to push for a statewide constitutional amendment, giving voters the power to recall unqualified representatives at any time.

But that seed had to be planted now.

He needed the workers to first get used to the feeling of having oversight authority, to become accustomed to a political environment where ’the representatives have to listen to me.’

When they one day found their will blocked by the law, the resulting sense of deprivation would erupt with even more terrifying energy.

This wasn’t just for Pennsylvania.

Once this model of direct democracy was successfully implemented in Pennsylvania, it would spread like a virus across all of America.

This was Leo’s true ambition.

He didn’t just want to control a single state; he wanted to reshape the rules of America’s entire democratic game.

"There’s one last step."

Leo gazed out the window at the night sky.

"Those old, established conglomerates, the family-owned enterprises with deep connections in the Senate—they’re deeply entrenched and hard to control. They may be bowing to us now for their own benefit, but they will strike back the moment they get a chance."

"So, we need fresh blood."

"In this ten-billion-dollar plan, we must reserve forty percent of the share specifically for emerging companies that are medium-sized and technologically sound, but lack political backing."

"These companies will be completely dependent on our contracts to survive."

"They’ll have no way out. Their only option will be to pledge allegiance to us."

Leo pulled a sample equity agreement from his folder.

"For these new companies, we’ll implement a specialized buyout."

"A government fund will take an equity stake. We can take as little as a 1% share, without participating in daily operations or taking any of their profits."

"But we will retain veto power."

"This ensures that at critical moments, the steering wheel of the company remains in our hands."

"As for the old capital that won’t play ball..."

Leo smiled.

"We have our ways."

"Raise environmental standards, raise labor protection standards, initiate administrative audits."

"We will create a new set of rules that only our own people can adapt to."

"Let the dinosaurs from the old era go extinct naturally due to non-compliance."

"This is the new order we will build."

Leo pressed his hands on the table and leaned forward, like a lion poised to hunt.

Ron Smith stood up again, pressing his palms on the tabletop and meeting Leo’s gaze.

"Leo, I must point out a massive hole in your logic."

Ron glanced around at the other mayors.

"Ten billion US dollars is certainly an astronomical sum. But in Pennsylvania, the total annual procurement for infrastructure, energy, and industry is several times, or even ten times, that amount."