The Illinois State Capitol stands quietly in the heart of Springfield.

Governor Morgan was wearing sportswear, jogging on the treadmill in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, sweating profusely, and examining his body shape in the mirror.

The phone call was from Alfred, who was calling directly to his senior secretary.

The secretary, tablet in hand, quickly walked to the treadmill. Her tone was respectful but a little awkward. "Mr. Governor, I'm sorry to bother you. Mr. Reeves, President of the Chicago City Council, is coming up. He insists on seeing you immediately. He describes the situation as... 'Chicago's city security faces a devastating threat, requiring the highest level of emergency decision-making.' This is the highest priority, and security has already cleared him."

"Reeves?" Governor Morgan's thick eyebrows knitted together, but he didn't stop walking. He just slowed the treadmill down to a brisk walk. "I've heard of this guy... I heard that he turned all of Chicago upside down. This guy came to see me, it can't be good news!"

He picked up the white towel handed to him by the waiter next to him and wiped the sweat from his neck vigorously. He glanced sharply in the direction of the door, with a barely perceptible trace of boredom and impatience on his face.

As an old fox who has been immersed in politics for decades, he knows too well the tricks of these local powerful figures. Behind the so-called "emergency" are often personal interests and power struggles.

But Ribbs's special status and the wording of "Chicago's destruction" made it impossible for him to completely ignore it.

The heavy oak door of the office was pushed open unceremoniously, and Reeves strode in.

"Governor Morgan!" Reeves got straight to the point without any pleasantries. "Chicago is suffering from a substantial armed invasion! Thousands of heavily armed Crips besieged police helicopters in broad daylight, causing three helicopters to crash and dozens of police officers and my security personnel to die on the spot! Even the Black Rabbit Group's security chief, Ao Guanhai, was shot and seriously injured! All this happened in the heart of the city! This is no ordinary crime, Governor! This is an armed rebellion! An invasion of the American mainland! If the state government doesn't take drastic measures, the Crips' skull and crossbones flag may be raised on the streets of Chicago tomorrow! The entire Midwest will be shaken!"

Ribbs directly handed a stack of freshly printed, still warm photos and news screenshots to Governor Morgan.

The images above are shocking: the burning wreckage of a police plane, a black tide of people surging (although they are wearing skull masks, the number is terrifying), a fire in a convenience store, and the blurry figures pushing stretchers hurriedly in the hospital corridor.

Governor Morgan finally stopped the treadmill.

As he looked at the photos, the relaxed and impatient look on his face instantly disappeared, replaced by the cold scrutiny and solemnity of a senior politician.

"Come on! Speaker Reeves, let's talk here." Governor Morgan picked up the towel and wiped his face again, walked to his office chair, supported the back of the chair with both hands, and stared at Reeves like a hawk.

"Armed invasion? Rebellion?" Governor Morgan's voice was low and slow, carrying immense pressure and questioning. "Speaker Reebs, you're asking me to mobilize the Illinois National Guard. Do you know what that means? It means the world's cameras will instantly focus on Chicago! Congress, the Department of Justice, and the Department of Homeland Security will all swoop down like vultures! They'll launch endless investigations and hearings. They'll ask: This will have a catastrophic impact on our state's image! And it'll have a devastating negative impact on my re-election campaign next year!"

He went straight to the heart of the matter—the political risks and personal costs. What he needed was absolutely solid evidence that could withstand all doubts, and a huge political bargaining chip that could offset the accusations of prevention and control failures!

Reeves met the governor's scrutinizing gaze without flinching. He knew the rules of this game all too well. He leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice, each word like a steel nail tempered by ice:

"Mr. Governor, risks and costs are two-way. If news breaks first that Chicago is actually 'occupied' by a group of gang members, and if the National Guard is forced to be mobilized because of the state government's inaction and slow action... that would be a true political disaster! That would be a catastrophic blow to the state's image!!"

"As for the irrefutable evidence..." Reeves pointed at the photos. "This is the scene! A crashed police plane, dead police officers, and thousands of armed thugs besieging the city—Chief Daniel's report will prove it all! Isn't that enough? Do we have to wait until they surround the State Capitol before we can call it conclusive evidence?"

He paused for a second, his eyes becoming extremely sharp, and he revealed the true essence of the deal:

"Mr. Governor, if you mobilize the National Guard to put down this 'rebellion', I will mobilize the entire city of Chicago. I can guarantee that in next year's gubernatorial election, all the votes in Chicago will be yours."

Morgan's shrewd and sharp gray-blue eyes did not show the expected ripples when Ribbs played the "Chicago vote" card.

He was neither delighted nor immediately showed greed. Instead, he was like an icy reef, standing still despite the rapids.

The office fell into an even more stagnant silence, with only the sound of Governor Morgan's fingers unconsciously tapping on the mahogany table, like cold coins falling in the silence.

"Ballots?" Governor Morgan finally spoke, his voice as flat as a tape recorder. "Speaker Reebs, can your loyalty truly represent the will of the entire city of Chicago? Chicago voters are not bargaining chips in your hands; they can change at will. Furthermore, the promises of one election..."

He slowly walked out from behind his desk, walked to the huge floor-to-ceiling window, turned his back to Ribbs, and overlooked the State Capitol Square.

The sunlight cast a golden edge on his muscular back, making his figure seem even colder and harder.

"I understand your anger, and I saw the devastation at the scene. The Crips... Stanley... they're truly a massive cancer, and they must be eradicated." Morgan's voice seemed to drift back from the window, a hint of scrutiny in it. "But if it's classified as a 'rebellion,' and the National Guard is deployed, it will affect everyone. The entire city of Chicago will come to a standstill. If this operation gets out of control, I'll be responsible for all the consequences."

Governor Morgan suddenly turned around, his gaze piercing Ribbs with the precision of a scalpel. The surface of leniency he had just shown faded away in an instant, leaving only cold calculation.

"Just by relying on a blank check for a 'vote', you expect me, Morgan, to risk my life to clean up the streets of Chicago for you and solve your... 'family' troubles from New York? This deal is so unfair."

Ribbs felt a chill run down his spine.

Morgan not only has a big appetite, but also has a sharp eye. He directly points out the deep entanglement between the "Crip Gang" and Thorne behind the farce - this is the "voluntary" that Morgan wants. He not only wants benefits and votes, but also wants Reeves to completely hand over something that is real and can bind him, which is enough to move his heart.

"Mr. Governor," Reeves' voice lowered, carrying with it the nervousness of being seen through and a hint of suppressed impatience. "What do you want? Just state the number! As long as we can crush those bastards wearing skull turbans, money is not a problem!"