The Valentino retail stores expanded alongside Leo's booming real estate empire.
The headquarters had also been relocated to Richmond.
However, Walker Walton still upheld his tradition of frugality.
Out of the three-story building Leo had given him, two floors were used as a display store for Valentino Retail, leaving only the third floor as the company headquarters — with a conference room that felt painfully cramped.
Harley nodded in approval when he saw this. Back when the Franklin retail store was just starting out, they had done the same thing. But after the IPO, their once disciplined leader gradually lost himself in the allure of money.
Everyone noticed that the moment Sam opened his mouth, Leo frowned.
Walker felt uneasy, thinking perhaps the boss disliked his brother's demeanor.
Just as he was about to say something, Leo waved his hand, stood up with a smile, and grasped Sam's hand again.
"Sam, this isn't our first time dealing with each other, is it?"
Sam was taken aback. He studied Leo's face carefully, then shook his head.
"I have an excellent memory, Mr. Valentino. I don't recall ever meeting you."
"Guadal 11738," Leo said with a smile.
The moment the words left his mouth, Sam's expression changed dramatically.
That string of numbers was the code name for a naval strategic intelligence mission he had worked on — providing rear support for the front lines.
Instinctively, he glanced at his brother, but quickly realized Walker couldn't possibly know about this. He had never spoken of it.
"How do you know that?"
The only explanation Sam could think of was a breach of secrecy.
Leo tapped his temple, then his ear.
"I not only have an excellent memory, but my hearing is very sharp as well.
After the mission was completed, we had a brief radio exchange.
When I thanked you, your exact words were, 'You're welcome. Good luck to you.'"
Sam was completely stunned.
To him, this was beyond the scope of normal human ability.
He finally understood why his brother spoke of this man with more reverence than during prayer.
Only someone with such skill could have brought his brother out alive from a place where death was almost certain.
At that moment, Sam quietly reminded himself never to be careless in his work.
What he didn't realize was that Leo had already planted a seed of fear deep in his heart.
After this small interlude, the interview officially began.
But before Leo could ask any questions, the Walton brothers began arguing over the future direction of the retail business.
Walker believed they should focus on cities, arguing that urban populations had higher purchasing power and greater density.
Sam's view was the opposite — cities were good, but everyone targeted them, making competition fierce.
Small towns, on the other hand, were ignored, had no real competition, and, based on his own store data, he proved that years of accumulation had shown small-town consumers spent no less than city dwellers.
In fact, in certain high-margin product categories, small towns could produce buying frenzies that would never happen in city stores.
The brothers argued until their faces turned red.
Leo had to slap the table and say:
"Sam, Walker — listen to me."
Walker immediately shut his mouth.
Sam almost continued, but sensing the sudden quiet in the room, he pressed his lips together and turned to Leo.
Leo had seen documentaries about Walmart and knew full well that Sam's success had come from starting in rural areas and eventually moving into cities in the 1970s after defeating the retail giant Kmart.
If you only looked at the documentary, you'd think Sam had been entirely correct. But in reality, Kmart had managed to open nearly a hundred city stores even under heavy competition — proof that urban potential should not be underestimated.
"Your argument is pointless.
I'm a billionaire — I don't choose. I take it all!
From now on, Valentino Retail will be divided into Valentino Town and Valentino City.
Walker, you'll be in charge of Valentino City. Submit a development plan to me as soon as possible.
Sam, you've passed my interview. Follow your vision and lead Valentino Town as its CEO.
For every five stores you open, I'll give your division 0.1% of company shares. Whether you can go from employee to partner will depend on your effort."
Before Leo had even finished, Walker eagerly agreed — but Sam grabbed his arm.
"Mr. Valentino, I'm honored by your trust. But if I'm joining Valentino Retail, I must point out the risks of this approach.
Retail is an industry obsessed with cost control. Even saving a single cent on an item can mean significant profits when multiplied across huge sales volumes.
Splitting the company into two will immediately create a supply chain problem.
Will we build two separate supply chains? If we only use one, the products for cities and small towns will differ, and compromises will lead to massive inventory waste. That would be a fatal weakness in competition.
If we build separate supply chains, that's also a massive waste of resources.
The second major issue is your push for rapid expansion. Retail also values meticulous management. Daily opening and closing inventories must be compiled manually and analyzed by managers to determine what sells better in different regions — and what should be stocked next.
Managers with such analytical skills are rare, and because analysis is mentally taxing, the number of stores they can handle is limited. Blindly expanding beyond the capacity of management could be worse than running a franchise model, since franchise owners invest their own money, while our store managers are merely hired employees."
Leo had never been deeply involved in retail before.
Sam's words completely answered his lingering question — why there were no truly nationwide retail giants in America yet.
"Actually, the two problems you mentioned are really one problem.
Whether it's supply chains or daily store management, if we had a tool that could automatically compile data and generate supply tables directly from it, everything would be solved."
Everyone in the room chuckled.
Sam half-joked: "If such a tool existed, it might as well be God."
For these three, it was unimaginable.
But to Leo, it was a visible future.
His lips curled into a smile.
He finally understood the charm of a time-traveling boss — using the foreseeable future to shatter what these people thought was impossible. Their admiration and awe came naturally.
Leo stood.
"For now, we'll build one supply chain, and Harley will run it.
As for the God tool — I'll go get it for you."
After the meeting, Leo left with Harley.
Inside the conference room, Sam's face darkened.
"Independent supply chains — we…"
Walker cut him off coldly.
"Sam, if you're still holding on to your old fantasies, I suggest you leave now. I don't want to clean up your corpse."
Sam asked, "He seems friendly enough — is he really that dangerous?"
Walker replied, "Remember the Guadal 738 mission? Do you recall what it was?"
Sam thought for a moment.
"I remember it was to destroy a hidden Japanese munitions depot in the island's center."
Walker's voice trembled slightly as he spoke.
"Your intel was wrong. The depot wasn't guarded by invalids — it was defended by three elite guerrilla units the Japanese used for sabotage.
We had 13 men; they had over 80. They had better supplies and knew the terrain. We were pinned down instantly — until the boss led us into the power station and destroyed the electrical system.
In the dim backup lighting, he somehow found the emergency exit."
"You were lucky," Sam said — then suddenly realized something, his face paling.
"Wait — your mission succeeded!"
"Yes. We could have withdrawn. But the boss went back alone to save a wounded man lost in the dark.
He cut through an entire enemy squad and, while the others searched outside, found the injured man in the unguarded ammo depot. He set the charges and blew it up."
"That was luck. A good commander shouldn't risk the whole team for one man. The right choice was to abort," Sam argued.
"You're right, brother — you intelligence guys love calculating probabilities on paper. But if you'd been commander, you'd never have seen your brother again.
That trapped man was me!
When he stood before me just now, I swore I'd never betray him. And don't forget — if he could cut through an elite squad, killing someone like you would take less than a second."
Walker left, leaving Sam frozen in place.
Leo had no idea what had just happened in the conference room — and wouldn't have cared if he had. The restraints he'd prepared for Sam had only just begun.
"Head to the University of Virginia," Leo told Noodles.
"But didn't you take a leave of absence?" Noodles asked, puzzled.
"I'm going to see an old friend — he might have a lead on the God tool."
"Ever since you got rich, you've been talking in riddles," Noodles muttered.
Leo was looking for Ruben Frederick, the math prodigy he'd met at the freshman dance — a man involved in building the world's first computer.
It had taken considerable effort to track down the reclusive genius, even involving his professor, who revealed that Ruben had dropped out and joined a company called Eckert and Mauchly, obsessed with creating a "commercial brain."
Following the address from the professor, Leo arrived at a small factory on the outskirts of town.
The dim yellow lights flickered inside, accompanied by the clang of tools.
When he pushed the door open, he saw the cramped space filled with rows of diodes and focused workers.
The first to notice him was a middle-aged man with thick glasses, scribbling on paper. He was bald and looked every bit the brilliant recluse.
"Who are you?" the man asked nervously, avoiding eye contact — exactly the kind of socially awkward genius Leo expected.
"My name's Leo Valentino. I'm here for Ruben Frederick."
The man shouted in relief: "Ruben! Someone's here for you!"
When Ruben saw Leo, he was surprised — his former classmate was now a wealthy, well-known figure at the University of Virginia.
With no space to meet inside, they stepped outside.
Leo wasted no time.
"You're working on the commercial application of the super brain?"
When it came to his field, Ruben lit up, speaking passionately about his research. In his vision, the super brain would not serve only the already brilliant, but society at large — letting everyone experience the power of computing.
Leo could see the light in his eyes.
"How far along are you?"
The light dimmed instantly. Ruben launched into technical jargon that even Leo struggled to follow. From what he gathered, their work was only halfway done — and had stalled due to lack of funds.
"So basically, without money, your research is as good as unfinished," Leo said, disappointed. He had hoped Ruben could solve his problem directly.
"Mr. Valentino, you can't put it that way. Our direction is correct, and science proves the first commercial computer will be born from our hands. We just need the funds to buy the necessary equipment.
I've prayed to God for a generous investor — and then you appeared. Forgive Mauchly for ignoring you earlier; he struggles with communication.
Allow me to introduce myself: I am John Presper Eckert, and this is my partner, John William Mauchly. Our company bears our names. Please, give me a chance to reintroduce our work to you."
Out of respect for Ruben, Leo agreed.
Inside, he saw young people in white lab coats, utterly absorbed in their work — so much so they didn't notice visitors.
Some stomachs even growled audibly.
Eckert said ruefully, "All our funds go into equipment. Salaries haven't been paid in a while, but everyone stays for one dream — to make computing available to all."
Leo nodded as he walked — until a figure caught his attention.
Even the white coat couldn't hide her graceful figure.
What truly drew him in, however, was her face — strikingly similar to Hollywood star Anne Hathaway from his past life.
Eckert noticed Leo's gaze and frowned slightly.
The girl, Vinina, was the most beautiful in the lab. As her boss, he felt a natural attraction and a trace of unspoken affection.
But his hunger for success kept his impulses in check.
Still, if Leo was to stay, he might need to play a card.
"Vinina!" he called out.