Forging America: My Campaign Manager is Roosevelt

Chapter 389: Chapter 182: Rupture

"You’d think that just changing a few lines of code and signing a few supplementary agreements would solve everything."

"You’d never feel for yourself the suffocating sensation of capital’s hand at your throat."

"You’d never understand that if you don’t hold a knife to their throats, if you don’t show them you’re crazy enough to take them down with you, these Vampires will never yield."

"I let you walk into that trap so you could learn how to bare your fangs when you’re cornered."

"This is a lesson you can’t learn from books, nor can you learn it from my speeches."

"Only when you’ve truly smelled the scent of death can you really take hold of the reins to this beast."

"And besides, Leo."

Roosevelt’s voice suddenly grew quiet, tinged with a rare exhaustion.

"I must admit something."

"This is also why I had you face this on your own."

"My time was long ago."

"I understand people, I understand strategy, I understand how to wage war."

"But when I’m faced with the complex financial derivatives of your era, with quantitative algorithms trading hundreds of millions of times a second, with this new system of exploitation built on fiber optics and servers..."

"I sometimes feel... out of my depth."

"I can see Evelyn’s greed, but I can’t understand her models. I can tell you how to negotiate, but I can’t tell you how to patch those damned code vulnerabilities."

"I may not... be able to help you all that much."

Leo was stunned.

"I’m training you, my boy."

Roosevelt looked at Leo, his eyes filled with high hopes.

"Here in Pittsburgh, in Pennsylvania, the rules of the game are still relatively primitive. The enemies are more straightforward."

"I can still use my experience to be your safety net, to guide you."

"But you still have a long way to go."

"But one day, when you leave this place, when you truly set foot in Washington, facing the actuaries at the Federal Reserve, the top players on Wall Street, and the complex global game..."

"The waters there are ten thousand times deeper than they are here."

"The rules there... even I can no longer comprehend them."

"By then, if I’m still holding your hand like a nanny, you’ll die."

"You must learn to walk on your own."

"You must learn to spot the traps, sharpen your own blade, and decide for yourself when it’s time to kill."

"Tonight, you faced down capital all by yourself."

"It wasn’t pretty, and you nearly got yourself killed."

Roosevelt smiled. It was a smile of gratification.

"But in the end, you made it through on your own."

"Maybe the path ahead is clear, maybe it leads off a cliff, but ultimately, you were the one who chose it."

Leo leaned his head against the car window.

The knot of resentment that had been tightening in his chest began to slowly loosen.

It didn’t vanish. Instead, it slowly sank into the deepest corners of his heart.

He understood Roosevelt’s purpose.

Without experiencing that near-fatal suffocation, he would never learn how to breathe underwater.

Only in that moment, the instant he made the decision for himself, had he truly become a player at the table.

An unprecedented sense of clarity washed over him.

Roosevelt was a lighthouse on the shore, but a lighthouse can’t steer the ship for its captain.

The hands on the wheel had to be his own.

One day, he would have to sail into deep waters that even Roosevelt had never ventured into.

Leo took a deep breath, as if expelling all the foulness from his lungs.

’Thank you, Mr. President.’

’I will remember this feeling.’

He looked at the reflection of his own eyes in the window.

’Next time.’

’Next time in Washington.’

’I will do better.’