Of course, the wealthy would not be so kind as to hand money directly to the Pale Rider. Municipal funds entered the city government's accounts in the name of donations. And the employees who had gone on strike before had all returned. In other words, the money was still being managed by agents sent by the elite.
But never mind who was managing the money. At least there was money in the accounts now.
And besides, would the agents managing the money really dedicate themselves selflessly, burn themselves out, take none of it for themselves, and spend none of it on improving their working conditions?
Of course that was impossible. No one was a saint. The people doing this had no faith; they had not come here to serve the public. Since I was the one handling the money, why couldn't I use city government funds to buy myself the best toilet paper? Why couldn't I install two more air conditioners in the office? Why couldn't I hire two more cleaners to tidy my workstation?
Most of these minor leaders planted in the city government by the elite thought and acted this way.
People in every department returned favors. You were in charge of choosing the coffee brand, so you picked the most expensive one and sent the most professional coffee machine to every office. Then when I booked hotels for your business trips, naturally I'd book the best ones and arrange private cars to pick you up and drop you off. Everyone could handle their work in comfort.
As for how much it cost, who cared? If the money wasn't spent, it wouldn't end up in my pocket anyway. If I spent more, I could take more from it.
But that created a problem: everyone had to take their