Forging America: My Campaign Manager is Roosevelt

Chapter 340 - 165: Prophet

In August, heatwaves rolled through Pittsburgh.

The heat didn’t just come from the vicious sun overhead, but also from the ceaseless, day-and-night roar of machinery in the Monongahela River Valley.

The skeleton of the Inland Port project had already risen from the earth. Giant steel beams pierced the sky, and countless welding sparks were still blinding even under the blazing sun.

The air conditioning in City Hall was cranked up high.

Leo Wallace sat at the head of the conference table, twirling a pen in his hand.

Sitting across from him were the mayors of the various industrial cities in the Industrial Revival Alliance.

This time, they weren’t wearing hard hats, nor did they have the bold confidence they’d shown when the alliance was first formed.

Ron Smith was constantly dabbing the sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief, while Joe Byers of Scranton appeared restless, his eyes darting about.

They had come to collect.

「Three months had passed.」

Steel from Erie, cement from Scranton—it had all been pouring into Pittsburgh without end.

Leo had paid thirty percent in cash, as stipulated in the contract.

But the remaining seventy percent was still on the books.

"Leo."

Ron finally couldn’t take it anymore. He threw his handkerchief onto the table.

"My factories have been supplying you for three months. To keep up with your schedule, we’ve been running three shifts. The machines are practically red-hot."

"You’ve paid a portion in cash, but what about the rest of the balance?"

He knocked on the table.

"My financial director is on my back every single day. On top of that, people from the state Republican Party committee have called me three times, warning me not to get too close to a Democrat like you. They say I’m aiding the enemy."

"If you don’t settle the final payment soon, I’ll have nothing to show for it. I need to take that money back and shut those people up."

Joe Byers chimed in, "He’s right, Leo. It’s the same situation in Scranton. People have jobs, which is good, but everyone’s uneasy. We need to see cold, hard cash."

Leo looked at his anxious allies.

He knew what they were afraid of.

They were afraid that once the five hundred million US Dollars were burned through, the Pittsburgh project would be left unfinished, and all they’d have to show for it was a pile of uncashable IOUs.

"Money?"

"If I were to wire you all the rest of the money right now, what would you do with it?"

Leo’s gaze swept over everyone at the table.

"Ron, you’d use the money to fill the pension fund gap that Erie City has been dealing with for years. Joe, you’d use it to repair the leaking roof on your city hall, or maybe hand it out as bonuses to those bureaucrats who do nothing but drink tea all day."

"And then what?"

"The money runs out, the factories have no more orders, and the workers are unemployed again. Then you’ll all have to go running back to Harrisburg to beg at the governor’s door."

Ron Smith frowned. "That’s our business. We sold the goods, we should get the money."

"No, it’s our business—all of ours."

Leo stood up.

"Ethan, show them."

Ethan pressed a button on the remote.

A massive screen on one side of the conference room lit up.

On the screen was a complex, dynamic flowchart.

It was the demo version of a regional industrial bill platform that Arthur’s team had worked day and night to create.

"Gentlemen, I don’t intend to give you cash."

Leo pointed to the screen.

"But I will give you this."

A golden icon popped up on the screen—the digital symbol for an ’Accounts Receivable Equity Certificate’.

"Bills."

"What’s this supposed to mean?" Ron Smith asked, bewildered. "You want to pay off your debt with a pile of electronic code?"

"This isn’t paying off a debt. This is an investment."

Leo walked over to the screen, his finger tracing the flowing lines.

"Look at this closed loop."

"Pittsburgh owes Erie ten million for steel, so I issue you ten million in bills."

"You take those ten million in bills, and you don’t need to exchange them for US Dollars. You can use them directly to hire an idle engineering team from Pittsburgh to renovate that port terminal in Erie that’s been rotting for a decade."

Leo looked at Joe Byers.

"Joe, you can take the bills Pittsburgh gives you and use them to buy newly manufactured glass from Johnston to replace the windows in Scranton’s schools."

"Johnston takes those bills and pays a transport company from Erie to ship the glass over."

"In this system, we don’t need banks, we don’t need Wall Street, and we don’t even need US Dollars."

"We use each other’s products and each other’s services to trade for each other’s prosperity."

Leo’s voice was full of seductive power, but the reaction in the room was the stark opposite of his enthusiasm.

Smith’s brow was deeply furrowed, and his finger was unconsciously tracing circles on the tabletop.

Byers’s gaze, however, was shifting about, clearly looking for an excuse to back out.

"It sounds... very creative, Leo," Smith squeezed out dryly. "But we’re here to talk business. The owner of the steel mill in Erie isn’t going to accept me coming back with a pile of electronic code and telling him, ’Hey, here’s your payment. Go buy some cement with it.’"

"That’s right," Byers immediately followed up. "The workers want US Dollars they can use to buy bread, not some kind of bill. This is too risky. We can’t accept a deal with no cash flow."

They understood the pie-in-the-sky picture Leo was painting, but this pie was too hard to swallow.

Leo planted both hands on the table and leaned forward.

"I know what you’re worried about. And in this system, I don’t intend for you to face your workers and the National Taxation Bureau empty-handed."

"For every project, you’ll get sixty percent in cash. But the remaining portion... I hope you’ll choose to leave it in the system."

"Reinvest it into this reconstruction cycle."