"It's that stubborn council speaker. He's holding the entire city hostage for his own pathetic political gain."
Murphy's hand trembled as he held the document.
The precise exploitation of legal clauses, the way he turned bureaucracy into a defensive weapon—it was the work of a crafty veteran who'd spent his entire life in City Hall.
"This is... this is crooked logic," Murphy muttered.
"It's the art of administration," Leo corrected. "Scheduling is justice."
Murphy put down the document and took a deep breath.
He had to admit, Leo's move was brilliant.
With a single schedule, he had defused the imminent legal crisis while also kicking the can further down the road.
As long as the schedule existed, the government had fulfilled its responsibility.
As for why it was scheduled for ten years later? That was because there was no money.
And why was there no money?
Go ask the City Council.
The logic was a perfect loop.
