"Kevin, you've been out of the architecture world for quite a while.
In the past two years, many new technologies have emerged.
Just last year, in nearby New York, the city launched a pilot housing project to address its housing shortage.
They used new materials and innovative techniques that not only cut costs but also sped up construction.
What stuck with me the most was modular plumbing systems and precast concrete.
So, tomorrow you all will head to New York for a field study.
See for yourselves if these new technologies can meet our goals of reducing costs and increasing efficiency."
Leo hadn't had time to explore construction techniques during his packed week in New York.
Everything he just said came from what his previous-life boss's father—a professor of architecture—used to lecture about on the train.
Kevin was a bit stunned by what he heard.
Though the unfamiliar terms sounded like legitimate industry jargon, and he could barely grasp their meanings, it was hard for him to believe that a small-town kid like Leo could know so much about architecture.
He was just about to ask more questions when Leo raised a hand to stop him.
Leo looked toward the others and said in a calm but firm tone:
"Kevin, I know what you're thinking.
But if you're sitting at this table, you need to learn to trust me—just like they do.
Besides, New York isn't far. Go see for yourself."
As Daniel's father and the only licensed architect on the team, Leo couldn't treat Kevin as casually as he did the others.
He viewed Kevin as a temporary collaborator—but not a permanent one.
Kevin didn't truly respect him, and Leo wasn't interested in wasting time trying to earn that respect.
He'd rather spend that time training or recruiting someone new.
"Alright, I'll go take a look," Kevin replied.
He opened his mouth again but, seeing Leo's unyielding expression, thought better of it and stayed quiet.
If Leo was bluffing, a quick trip to New York would settle it.
Adjusting his attitude, Kevin asked the key question:
"Leo, how exactly do you plan to start this business?
And don't give me that nonsense about renovations. Most small-town men can manage basic home repairs themselves."
"Kevin, your understanding is too shallow.
Yes, you're right—most men around here can fix things.
But then why do they still line up at David Realty or Fox Realty for help?
It's because some repairs are more complicated—
like replacing structural support beams or old plumbing from 15 years ago.
Those are big jobs requiring expertise.
Most homes in Lynchburg were built around 1900.
Forty years later, they're full of hidden issues.
Once we learn about these new technologies, we'll offer packaged services to replace structural supports and underground piping."
Leo paused and pointed toward Noodles' restaurant.
"You all know this place. What do you think of it?"
"The food's great."
"The pizza's amazing."
Leo rubbed his temples and sighed.
"I'm not talking about the food—I mean the building's design."
Most were unsure how to answer, but Kevin responded:
"As a professional architect from Richmond, I'd say this restaurant is outdated.
Its style reflects the underground speakeasies from Prohibition-era New York."
"Hey, Kevin! Don't expect me to serve you another drop of liquor after that!"
Noodles had been eavesdropping for a while. When he heard Kevin call his restaurant 'outdated,' he couldn't help but interject.
"He's not wrong, Noodles," Leo said.
"Even in daylight, your place feels dark and musty.
The overall aesthetic is seriously behind the times."
"You weren't saying that when you were a kid.
You used to call this the best restaurant in America."
Leo chuckled, "Well, if you let our construction company renovate it,
then maybe it will become the best restaurant in America."
Noodles had been standing there long enough to get the picture.
He knew Leo's 'company' was still just a fledgling idea.
And though they were close, Noodles wasn't about to throw his money into a pipe dream.
He waved them off and returned to cleaning the bar.
Watching him go, Kevin rubbed his chin and said:
"So your second plan is commercial property renovation. That's actually not a bad entry point.
But... I'm not trying to pick on you here—
did you have a strategy for landing our first client?
Judging by Noodles' reaction, I'd say he's not exactly lining up."
"Don't worry, Kevin. I'll take care of it."
Leo firmly believed in one thing:
If demand doesn't exist, create it.
Even with just a few tricks from the 21st century, the simple townsfolk of Lynchburg wouldn't stand a chance against him.
And worst case—if no one needs renovations—he could just manufacture the need.
After all, in America, fleecing a few sheep was just business as usual.
Leo hadn't even mentioned the most important point:
Plans A and B—renovation and remodeling—were never the endgame.
They were merely training missions for the team.
His real goal wasn't to run a ragtag renovation crew or copy traditional family-run companies like Brown or Fox.
As someone from the future, Leo aimed to build a true real estate empire.
Lynchburg was just the first step.
And in the coming 20-year boom of American real estate, Leo planned to feast like a king.
"Alright then, you seem confident. So who's going to New York with me?" Kevin asked.
"Everyone except me, Desmond, and Joseph.
Kevin, this trip isn't just a research mission—it's also a crash course.
You'll be responsible for guiding them into the field."
"You really do have the makings of a capitalist—master of delegation," Kevin muttered.
As the group left the restaurant, Leo and Emily walked ahead, but Desmond caught up from behind.
"Leo, why am I not going to New York?
Joseph has work, I get that. But what about me?" he asked.
"Brother," Leo said, "remember what I told you before we left the army?"
Desmond thought for a moment.
Then his eyes widened, and he asked in disbelief,
"You mean the time you said I should go into politics?"
Leo nodded.
Desmond chuckled, "Come on, Leo, you can't be serious.
I could never do that."
"Then what can you do, Desmond?
Construction work? Your body's been through hell saving others—can it handle that?
Sales? You're too kind. You'd end up giving money to poor families instead of earning it.
No, my friend—politics is exactly where you belong.
It's the most fitting job for you, and I've thought long and hard about it."