Chapter 429: Chapter 199: Cooperative
Valentine turned around and looked at Ethan.
"If you dare to deceive us, if the factories in Erie don’t recognize this thing..."
Valentine’s voice was low and powerful.
"We’ll drive our tractors down and surround Pittsburgh’s city hall."
"Deal."
...
「Three days later, at the entrance to the Pittsburgh South District.」
In the morning mist, a strange convoy of vehicles drove into the city.
Their bodies were spray-painted with all sorts of handwritten slogans or hung with crude banners.
"Appalachia Agricultural Cooperative."
"Bedford Fresh Vegetables Direct Supply."
The truck beds were filled to the brim.
Tomatoes, potatoes, beef, and freshly milked milk.
This torrent, carrying the scent of the earth, flowed into the city of steel.
Frank stood by the roadside, watching the convoy.
He directed the workers to open the back door of the community cafeteria.
When the first basket of fresh tomatoes was unloaded, Frank casually picked one up, wiped it on his clothes, and took a bite.
Juice spurted out, the sweet and sour flavor exploding in his mouth.
"Goddamn, that’s fresh."
Frank grumbled.
This was a hundred times better than the refrigerated stuff from the supermarket that was hard as a rock.
The truck driver jumped out of his cab. He was a young farmer in overalls.
He looked a little self-consciously at the workers around him, who were dressed in work clothes and covered in coal dust.
"Hey, pal." Frank walked over and offered him a cigarette. "Tough trip?"
The young farmer took the cigarette and lit it with Frank’s lighter.
"Roads were rough," the farmer said after a drag. "But I hear you pay on the spot?"
"Right away."
Frank waved over a member of the finance staff.
The staff member held a scanner and swiped it across the QR code for the credit note wallet on the farmer’s phone.
BEEP.
Transaction successful.
The farmer’s eyes lit up as he looked at the new numbers on his phone.
He immediately opened the marketplace page and placed an order in the "Erie Farm Machinery Parts" section.
Transaction complete.
Leo stood before the floor-to-ceiling windows of city hall, looking down at the bustling scene below.
Pickups loaded with vegetables drove into the unloading area, and in their wake, heavy trucks packed with steel and machine parts roared out.
Blue-collar workers from the city and redneck farmers from the countryside were now gathered around the same dinner table.
The arguments about political parties had vanished.
No one cared about the elephant and the donkey anymore, nor did they talk about the cultural conflicts manufactured by politicians.
’This is real politics, Leo.’
Roosevelt’s voice rang in Leo’s mind.
’This was also the core secret of my New Deal—the New Deal Coalition.’
’They were always one and the same. They are all victims of exploitation by capital and land rent, and they share a common destiny.’
’Look down there.’
Leo followed Roosevelt’s guidance and looked.
By the cafeteria entrance, the young farmer was chatting animatedly with Frank.
Frank had a cigarette between his fingers, his other hand pointing to the port under construction in the distance, apparently boasting about the project’s progress.
The farmer listened with great interest, nodding from time to time, and even reached out to touch the grease stains on Frank’s work clothes.
’They’re discovering that the other side isn’t the enemy.’
’That they’re all just people of the same kind, struggling in the mud.’
’That they’re all people forgotten by Washington, all people struggling on the poverty line.’
"This is just the beginning, Mr. President."
Leo watched the endless convoy.
"We’re going to make this snowball even bigger."
"I’m going to bring healthcare, education, housing—everything—into this cycle."
"I’m going to make all of Pennsylvania into an integrated whole, where no one can do without the other."
Leo turned and walked back to his desk.
On the desk lay a new document: "Proposal on Expanding the Coverage of the Credit Note Payment System to Rural Areas Statewide."
There was a knock on the office door.
"Boss, it’s time for lunch." Ethan poked his head in. "The agricultural cooperative sent over some fresh beef. Want to go try it at the community cafeteria?"
Leo put down his pen and stood up.
"Of course."
He picked up the jacket from the back of his chair and said with a smile, "Let’s go. Let’s go taste our victory."
...
Community Cafeteria No. 1
Warm yellow pendant lights hung from the high ceiling, casting a soft glow on the long, solid wood dining tables.
The surrounding walls were covered with black-and-white photographs.
The workers had taken them themselves.
There were shots of the newly paved asphalt roads in the South District, the cranes of the Inland Port in the morning sun, and a close-up of a welder, his face covered in soot but smiling brightly.
The photographs told everyone who walked in: This place belongs to you. This is a restaurant for builders, not a shelter for the homeless.
It was lunchtime, and the hall was full of people.
Most of them were in work clothes, some with splatters of mud and paint on their garments.
People sat at the tables, cutting the meat on their plates with knives and forks, loudly discussing work progress or the upcoming football game.
Nathan Coleman pushed open the door and walked in with his son, Sam.
This small-time contractor, who had just landed a city renovation contract, wore an expression of weary satisfaction.
He dusted himself off and led his son toward the ordering area.
A huge blackboard hung above the open kitchen, the chalk writing on it bold and strong.
Today’s Special:
Beef Bourguignon
Secret Recipe Roast Chicken
Garden Caesar Salad
Sides: Freshly Baked Baguette / Buttered Mashed Potatoes
Drinks: Freshly Ground Coffee / Hot Milk (Free Refills)
All these ingredients came from the newly established agricultural cooperative.
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