Forging America: My Campaign Manager is Roosevelt

Chapter 399: Chapter 186: A Crack in the Iron Curtain

"Look at his eyes, Leo. He completely believes his own words now. That’s the highest level of acting—when the actor himself gets lost in the role."

Leo didn’t speak. He just listened quietly.

The speech on stage entered its second phase.

Murphy’s tone shifted from somber to resolute.

"This past week, many people have asked me."

"Murphy, who put you up here?"

"Which big corporation signed the check? Which political faction made a deal? Which big shot in Washington gave you the green light?"

Murphy shook his head, a faint, disdainful smile on his face.

"I told them."

"No one."

Those two words rang with conviction.

Leo raised an eyebrow.

"In my campaign account, there isn’t a single large check from Wall Street."

"Behind me, there isn’t a single political boss trying to manipulate Pennsylvania."

"The ones who put me here... are you."

Murphy stretched out his hand, pointing to the crowd below the stage.

"I want to thank the father who drives his pickup to the construction site at four in the morning. His hands are calloused, his lungs are full of dust, but he still hustles to put breakfast on the table for his family."

"I want to thank the mother who tallies her bills under a late-night lamp, refusing to bow to poverty. She pinches every penny to save a US Dollar on groceries, but she has never given up on the dream of sending her child to college."

"I want to thank the truck drivers of Erie, the coal miners of Scranton, and the nurses and teachers of Pittsburgh."

"Thank you, every single one of you."

"Thank you for standing in the cold wind and rejecting the lies that peddle anxiety."

"Thank you for casting your votes for hope, not for fear."

"It was you, people of flesh and blood, whose will triumphed over the arrogance of capital."

"This victory doesn’t belong to any office. It doesn’t belong to any political party."

"It belongs to every street, to every family, to every Pennsylvanian who refused to yield!"

The cheers erupted once more.

This time, the sound held less grief and indignation, and more pride.

Murphy had successfully molded himself into a representative of the people, one with no backers.

He erased all the political dealings, erased the games played behind the five-hundred-million-US-Dollar bond, and erased the name Leo Wallace.

He had washed himself completely clean.

"He’s deleted you," Roosevelt’s voice held a hint of amusement. "In his narrative, you don’t exist. It’s as if that five hundred million US Dollars fell from the sky, as if he conjured that port out of thin air with Magic."

’I don’t care,’ Leo replied coolly in his mind. ’The name isn’t important. The result is what matters.’

"No, you do care," Roosevelt saw right through him. "But caring about it is pointless."

"When Moses came down from Mount Sinai, holding the stone tablets inscribed with the Ten Commandments, he would never tell the believers below that some roadside artisan had carved them for him."

"He had to declare that they were bestowed by the hand of God himself."

"His current ’forgetfulness’ is a sign of his maturity."

"Let him enjoy this glory. The brighter the halo, the darker the shadow. And we... are his shadow."

On stage, Murphy’s emotions began to surge, his rhythm quickening.

He was about to reach the climax of his speech.

He released his grip on the lectern, his body ramrod straight.

"But, my friends!"

"Merely winning the election is not enough!"

"The enemies we face are still powerful. The forces trying to turn us into slaves are still watching us."

"We must say to those rulers who treat us like cogs in a machine: No!"

"You are not machines!"

"You are not cattle!"

"You are human beings!"

"You have the capacity to feel, the longing for freedom, and the ability to love and be loved!"

Murphy waved his arms as if tearing apart an invisible iron curtain before him.

"Machines only have programs, but people have souls!"

"Machines only have efficiency, but people have dignity!"

"As long as humanity still breathes, freedom will never perish!"

"Technology, which should have brought us closer together, has left us more distant. Wealth, which should have brought us abundance, has left us in anxiety."

"This is not right!"

"I stand here tonight to tell Washington, to tell the entire world."

"We are going to take back this stolen power from the hands of those heartless automatons!"

"We are going to return it to every blue-collar worker in Pennsylvania, to every hardworking farmer, to every student who holds a dream!"

"We are going to build a world for human beings!"

"Not a world of algorithms!"

"Not a world of capital!"

"A world that belongs to you!"

The entire venue erupted.

This declaration, brimming with populism and blending class rebellion with humanism, ignited the passion of everyone present.

The workers raised their fists, shouting Murphy’s name.

In that moment, Murphy was no longer a politician.

He had become a totem, a symbol, a savior imbued with divinity.

Leo watched the scene unfold.

He had to admit, Murphy’s delivery was excellent.

"This is the power of language."

Roosevelt commented.

"The limits of my language are the limits of my world."

"What Murphy just did was use his language to forcibly reshape the world of those thousands of people below the stage. He defined unemployment as sacrifice, poverty as survival, and anger as an awakening."

"Once he grasps this power of definition, he will have grasped the souls of this crowd."