Forging America: My Campaign Manager is Roosevelt

"This is what’s known as sacrificing the rook to save the king."

Monroe looked at Campbell, his eyes sincere.

"But it’s all an act, Governor."

"The harsher my attacks, the more viciously I condemn you, the happier Leo Wallace will be."

"He’ll think you and I have had a complete falling out. He’ll think Washington has abandoned you and is backing me to take your place."

"He’ll let his guard down. He’ll think I’m his ally, his inside man within the system."

Monroe sneered. "As long as he trusts me, he’ll show a weakness."

"In reality, it’s a trap."

"While I’m attacking you, I’ll cleverly funnel all the blame toward Leo."

"I’ll say that while the Governor bears supervisory responsibility, the root cause of all this chaos is the anarchist uprising in Pittsburgh."

"I’ll paint Luigi as a victim brainwashed by extremist ideology, and Leo as the one who did the brainwashing."

"I’ll use the resources Washington has given me, under the cover of attacking you, to land a fatal blow on Leo."

"Once Leo falls and Pittsburgh is in turmoil, you’ll have full justification to mobilize the National Guard and restore order."

"At that point, all the accusations will vanish into thin air."

"You’ll still be the governor who turned the tide."

After Monroe finished speaking, he lowered his head slightly, his expression filled with the reverence a subordinate has for his superior.

Campbell sat in his chair, not responding immediately.

He looked at Monroe, at this young man he had single-handedly promoted.

He saw the unconcealable ambition in Monroe’s eyes, the extreme hunger for power.

Campbell knew very well that Monroe was lying.

Monroe would indeed attack him, and he would indeed sling mud at Leo, but Monroe would absolutely never hand the power back.

The moment Campbell fell in the storm of public opinion, Monroe would immediately step over his corpse to take his place, regardless of whether Leo was still alive or Pittsburgh was still burning.

But that no longer mattered.

Campbell understood that his political career had come to an end.

The only thing he could do now was choose a dignified exit and secure one last guarantee for his family and allies.

He had already made a deal with Monroe, and because of that, he felt a wave of intense disgust.

This disgust was not just for Monroe’s betrayal, but even more for his performance right now.

"Aston."

Campbell spoke. "That’s enough."

Monroe froze for a moment, then looked up, the worried expression on his face still perfectly maintained.

"Governor, I’m just worried the situation will get out of control..."

"There are only two of us here."

Campbell cut him off.

He stood up, walked to the window, and looked at the dark shadows of the trees outside.

"There are no cameras, no reporters, no voters. Who exactly are you putting on this display of loyalty for?"

Campbell turned around, his gaze locking coldly onto Monroe.

"We’ve already made a deal. I’ll step down, and you’ll take that seat. These are the boundaries of our interests, drawn out in black and white."

"Since we’re already dividing up the spoils, must you insist on draping yourself in the robe of a Saint? It makes me sick."

Monroe fell silent. The loyal mask he wore didn’t crack at these words.

This hypocrisy seemed to have become a part of him, welded directly to his bones.

Even at this moment of ultimate confrontation, he subconsciously maintained the dignified posture of a subordinate.

"Aston, this is the most pathetic thing about a Politician like you."

Campbell walked back to his desk.

"You can’t even tell which face is your own anymore. You’ve prepared this cup of poison for me, yet you insist on telling me it’s medicine to cure my illness. This superfluous acting only makes me think you’re not just greedy, but weak."

"I’m old, but I’m not blind."

"I know what you want."

"You want to be Governor."

"That’s fine."

Campbell adjusted his collar.

"Power always has to be handed over."

"Better to hand it to you than let it be snatched away by those radical lunatics."

Campbell walked over to Monroe.

He reached out and straightened Monroe’s slightly crooked tie.

The gesture was gentle, yet it made Monroe’s entire body stiffen.

"I can play along with this little drama of yours."

"I can accept your accusations, I can take the media’s abuse, and I can resign at the appropriate time, citing health reasons."

"Letting you take over legitimately."

"But."

Campbell’s hand, resting on Monroe’s collar, suddenly tightened.

The force was shocking, choking Monroe and making it hard for him to breathe.

"Aston, you will remember our deal."

Campbell stared into Monroe’s eyes, his voice becoming bone-chillingly cold.

"My Chairman of the Board of Education must remain in his post."

"My subsidy policies for the energy companies are not to be changed for five years."

"My family’s foundation is not to be touched by any auditors."

"And my old friends in the State Police and the Transportation Department—you need to arrange a smooth exit for them."

"This is the bottom line."

Campbell released his grip and patted Monroe’s shoulder.

"If you become Governor and dare to touch my people or my money..."

"If you think that just because I’ve stepped down, I’m a tiger without teeth..."

Campbell smiled.

Hidden within that smile was a chilling, murderous intent.

"Then you are sorely mistaken."

"I’ve run this state for thirty years."

"The dirt I have on you is enough to send you to prison ten times over."

"I can raise you up, and I can tear you down."

"Even if I’m no longer in that position, destroying you would only take a single word from me."

Monroe felt a sense of suffocation, and cold sweat instantly soaked his shirt.

He took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down.

He took a step back and gave Campbell a deep bow.

"Governor, you worry too much."

Monroe’s voice was respectful and humble.

"How could I possibly betray you?"

"You are my mentor, my guide."

"Without your support, I wouldn’t be where I am today."

"I promise you, for as long as I sit in that seat, your interests will be my interests, and your people will be my people."

"I will protect your legacy as if I were protecting my own family."

Monroe looked up, his expression so sincere it could bring a person to tears.

"I will always be your student."

Campbell looked at him.

For a long, long time.

Finally, Campbell waved his hand dismissively.

"Go."

"Go hold your press conference."

"Go curse me, attack me, and pledge your loyalty to Washington."

"I’ll be waiting right here."

"Waiting to see just how well you can perform in this little play of yours."

Monroe bowed again, then turned and left the study.

The moment that heavy door clicked shut.

The humility on Monroe’s face vanished instantly, replaced by a look of extreme ferocity and ecstasy.

He walked out the main gate of the official residence.

The night wind blew, cooling his feverish mind slightly.

He took out his phone and dialed Leo Wallace’s number.

"Hello."

"It’s me."

"Tomorrow morning, I’m holding a press conference."

"I’m going to fire the first shot at him."

"Are you ready on your end?"

Leo’s calm voice came from the other end of the line.

"Anytime."

"Good."

"I’ll be expecting good news from your end."

Monroe hung up the phone and looked at the moon in the night sky.

Tomorrow.

He would be the new King, crowned upon the ruins.

As for the old King?

Let him take his old era to the grave with him.

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