Leo wanted to see his parents from his past life again, but unfortunately, that past version of himself was busy staring at his phone, searching terms like down payment and pre-sale.
Seeing that, Leo remembered how, in his previous life, buying a house had drained his parents' savings completely.
In anger and guilt, he had tried to figure out who came up with these predatory "down payment" and "pre-sale" schemes.
With the advantage of seeing into his old world, Leo committed all the details of the pre-sale model to memory.
And to avoid drawing the ire of the censors of history, he deliberately forgot the one name that couldn't be spoken.
Morning light hit Leo's face, waking him.
He immediately thought:
Maybe it's time to bring this exploitative "pre-sale" trick to American soil ahead of schedule.
Back in the same discreet suite at the Lynchburg Hotel, Harry, Thomas, and Leo were once again with President Truman, who was watching the two investigative videos.
At the same time, Truman's two envoys, sent to investigate the "Icehouse Village" in Falls Town, had returned.
Their findings, combined with the scientific evidence, convinced Truman that the Bubble House concept was indeed unworkable.
He hugged Thomas and Harry, then shook Leo's hand firmly.
"Young man, you said twenty days, and it really was twenty days.
I like the way you handle business."
He signaled for his chief of staff to hand Leo a business card with his personal number on it.
"If you need anything, call me.
Oh, and I hear from Thomas you have some amazing 'oriental techniques' that can help a man relax.
Think I could try them myself?"
"It would be my honor, sir," Leo replied.
Seeing this, Thomas stepped forward eagerly.
"I'll join you."
Harry also wanted to say something, but thought better of it and fell silent.
Once they'd gone, he turned to Leo.
"So... what's today's 'project'?"
Leo smiled.
"A royal football match between the Tsar and the Kaiser.
And you, sir, will be the referee."
When Leo returned to the hotel office, he found someone familiar waiting anxiously in the hallway:
Benjamin Barrett, the loan manager from First Bank of Virginia who had once quietly fled Leo's office.
Seeing Leo approach, Benjamin practically slid forward on his knees, tears streaming down his face.
"Mr. Leo, I was wrong! I failed to see your greatness.
Please, give me another chance!
Your business is so big that even JP Morgan's Virginia branch alone might not be able to support it.
But with the help of Virginia's largest bank, you'll be unstoppable—easily the biggest developer in the state!"
Leo looked down at this over-the-top performance.
"Benjamin, don't bother acting.
After you left last time, I had you investigated.
Turns out besides being called 'The Silent One,' you also have another nickname in the industry: 'The Actor.'
Go home, Benjamin.
This time, you're not needed."
Leo brushed past him and headed for his office.
Benjamin scrambled up, his face twisting with hatred.
"You country bumpkin! When I call you 'Mr. Valentino' that's respect—but don't forget, in front of First Bank you're nothing.
Let me tell you:
If you don't work with First Bank, you won't be able to do any business in Virginia!"
Leo turned around and smiled at him.
"Actually, I agree with you.
That's why, with JP Morgan's blessing, I did sign a supplemental loan agreement with First Bank of Virginia.
Just not with you.
Forgive me, Benjamin, but your information seems a bit outdated.
Maybe First Bank has already... cut you loose?
Oh—and next time you threaten someone, make sure you're in a position to back it up."
Leo signaled to Walter.
The 6'4" Walter stepped forward, lifted the struggling Benjamin like a sack of flour, and tossed him outside.
Leo walked in and turned on the TV.
All the eastern channels were broadcasting the biggest news story in the region:
The Governor of Virginia, Clint, was being publicly sued by his own son.
Even better for the tabloids? It was all about sordid affairs and incestuous scandal—exactly the kind of salacious content that overshadowed the Bubble House story completely.
As the public got distracted by the sensational gossip, the real heavyweights moved in, carving up the spoils for themselves.
As the MVP of this entire showdown, Leo naturally claimed a big slice of the pie.
All those half-finished properties he'd acquired from defectors?
Now completed, they sold out instantly in the red-hot housing market.
Cashflow wasn't just back—it was surging.
And the best part? Orders were coming in not just from Richmond, but from all over Virginia.
More than one county mayor was inviting Leo personally to develop real estate in their districts.
No wonder Benjamin had said even one bank's capital couldn't keep up.
"Boss, the mortgages we had are all paid off.
All property titles are back in our hands.
That 'buy low, sell high' move netted us nearly $5 million in cashflow.
Plus with the Lynchburg Hotel, the Pharaoh Bar, and the other assets...
Your net worth has officially broken $10 million."
Edward reported breathlessly.
Crisis and opportunity always came hand in hand.
Leo smiled to himself and told Edward:
"With that $5 million buffer, I'm even more confident about swallowing something much bigger next."
Meanwhile, in a mid-sized conference room at the Lynchburg Hotel...
Thirty board members of the Richmond Londo Construction Company sat in uneasy silence.
They were all ages, but every face was equally worried.
Especially the nearly 60-year-old chairman, Ackland Londo.
Yes, Londo Company was actually the Londo family's business.
But after the Great Depression wiped them out, Clint had swooped in and taken control.
Once Clint became governor and installed Eddie in the company, Ackland had been reduced to a mere figurehead.
Eddie had run everything himself.
But when Clint's sex scandal exploded all over Richmond, Ackland and a coalition of smaller shareholders had seized the moment.
They called an emergency board meeting and ousted Eddie entirely.
Now back in control, Ackland had finally gotten a good look at the books—and realized why Eddie had left so casually.
The Londo Company was drowning in debt from its all-in bet on the Bubble House project.
They still owned valuable plots in prime areas—but had no money to develop them.
Ackland knew from experience they desperately needed a cash-rich investor.
And when no existing shareholder could help, he set his sights on the one man in Richmond who'd refused to jack up prices—and won public praise for it:
Leo.
To show their sincerity, Ackland brought the entire board to meet Leo in person at the hotel.
"Welcome, everyone.
But time is money, so forgive my bluntness.
Given the Londo Company's current state, you're in no position to name your terms.
I'm not interested in investing."
Leo's words made the entire room's faces fall.
Ackland hurried to speak.
"Mr. Valentino, Londo has a long, respected history—it's a brand people trust.
We also own vast, prime plots in the core of Richmond, Norfolk, Arlington, and Virginia Beach.
If you take control of this company, I promise you it will be an incredibly lucrative deal."