"Let me introduce a new partner—Edward Kirk. From now on, all company finances will be managed entirely by Edward."
Edward gave a slight nod to everyone.
"Alright, let's begin the meeting. Kevin, can you tell me what's going on?
I understand if appointments were canceled—but twenty signed contracts also got canceled? That's breach of contract.
They have to pay penalties, and that's not a small sum.
What happened, Kevin?"
Leo asked during the company's morning meeting.
"This morning, a rumor spread like wildfire in town," Kevin said, pointing at both himself and Leo.
"They're saying our company is just a bunch of punks and drunks.
They're also claiming that our low prices mean we use inferior materials and our houses will have quality issues."
"Someone's targeting us?"
Leo asked.
Kevin nodded.
"I had Sean investigate—our enemies aren't even trying to hide it.
Jones Real Estate and Fox Properties have joined forces.
They've slashed the prices of their new houses to match ours.
And they're promising that if buyers sign contracts with them, they'll cover our breach-of-contract penalties themselves.
Leo, our low-price strategy has failed."
Leo and Kevin had previously discussed how to secure housing construction orders.
Their plan had been to leverage prefabricated materials and new tech to go with a low-price strategy.
It had worked well—especially after Leo helped launch the Small Farmers Mutual Aid Association.
They had signed 30 intention contracts and 20 formal ones.
Leo frowned.
"Something's off. Who would run a business at a loss like this?
And weren't those two firms at each other's throats before?
Now suddenly they're teaming up to go after us—who barely even pose a threat yet?
This doesn't add up."
Leo thought of Patrick.
Only he had both the motive and the means to pull something like this off.
Kevin scowled.
"You're right. Something's fishy.
But now's not the time to investigate—we have to fight back against the rumors.
If we let this drag on, Lynchburg Construction will become synonymous with poor quality in the townspeople's minds.
Even if we build a high-end community, no one will trust it.
Don't you have connections at the newspaper? Can we—?"
Leo furrowed his brows. Patrick's sneak attack was precise—it went straight for Leo's reputation.
But more importantly, it was slowing down Leo's money-making momentum.
This real estate boom was a historical anomaly—Leo needed to devour it quickly before it ended.
Then he'd move on to the next "welfare zone" to keep expanding, growing stronger, until he could break into the real estate paradise he truly dreamed of.
Unlike Patrick, Leo had never planned to take root in Lynchburg.
This broken little place could, at best, grow bean sprouts.
"If we rush to clarify, we'll fall right into their trap.
Leave this to me—I'll handle it.
Right now, let's head to the groundbreaking ceremony for the Gospel Community."
—
On the future development site, Father Lesterman announced loudly,
"I'm honored to declare that construction on Phase I of the Gospel Community has officially begun!"
The surrounding congregation offered polite applause.
But their faces still showed traces of distrust—clearly, the rumors had already taken hold.
The ceremony was lackluster, with many expected guests failing to attend.
Instead, an uninvited guest arrived.
David Jones, decked out in a blinding white suit, stood out sharply from the crowd.
When the ceremony ended and people dispersed, David sauntered over with a smug grin.
"So what if you've got Father Lesterman backing you? You didn't close a single deal.
Leo, real estate is a high-end game—complicated and risky.
You, a gigolo, aren't cut out for this.
Farming suits you better!"
David smirked, clearly relishing his chance at payback for the embarrassment in the auditorium.
So what if Leo had a priest on his side? A loser was still a loser.
The son of a lumberjack would never have a future.
As David walked away, Leo narrowed his eyes.
This was the second time.
He wouldn't give David another chance.
Turning to a clearly frustrated Kevin, Leo asked,
"How's the grocery store renovation coming along?"
"Teams 2 and 4 worked in shifts—it's done. Should be cleaning up now."
"Perfect. Let's go take a look."
Kevin looked confused.
"Aren't we going to talk strategy about how to deal with this situation?"
"No need.
The grocery store is the best counterattack."
—
Valentino's Grocery Store had undergone a complete transformation.
Bright lighting, large display windows, matching floors and wall decor—it stood in stark contrast to the town's usual dim and cramped shops.
Ricardo walked in, mouth agape, too stunned to speak. He excitedly touched everything in sight.
He praised the display shelves and the flow layout with distinct entrance and exit points.
He even suggested selling Maria's fried fish in the break area.
Leo didn't object.
In this era, a grocery store that smelled like good food would attract more customers.
"Why use glass floors here?
And why are the drainage pipes so clearly visible?
Leo, you're being extravagant—just bury them like everyone else. Why build concrete walls for sewage lines?"
"That was Leo's idea," Kevin explained.
He was also curious—Leo had made similar arrangements for the newly installed steel support beams.
On the front side, decorative panels; on the back, tempered glass.
Leo's intent was simple: turn this grocery store into a model unit.
He wasn't interested in custom home building—too slow, too many problems.
In the time it took to build one house, Leo could reinforce 20 existing homes' plumbing and structures.
Once he explained this to Ricardo and Kevin, their eyes lit up.
"You predicted 10 days ago that someone would try to smear us?" Kevin asked in surprise.
Leo shook his head.
"No, I just wanted to build a showcase."
"Seeing is believing.
Let the townspeople see the truth behind the quality rumors with their own eyes."
Kevin nodded.
"Alright, I'll have Teams 2 and 4 hit the streets tomorrow and get folks to come check it out."
Leo nodded slightly—Kevin was finally learning to think before questioning.
"No need, Kevin.
I have a way to get the townspeople to come to the store voluntarily."
—
At Lynchburg's police station, a tiny drafty office tucked behind city hall,
Jonathan was just about to clock out when he collided with a disoriented man at the door.
"Mendes? What happened to you?"
Jonathan recognized him as the town's bakery owner. He bought bread there often—they were familiar.
"Sheriff, Connie's gone missing!"
Jonathan remembered the pretty blonde girl.
He thought of the missing girl cases recently shared by the neighboring town's police.
As a good hound, he had assisted in some peripheral investigations.
As a cop, he had his suspicions.
But he didn't dare confirm them—Patrick had never acted within town limits.
"Sigh… come on in, Mendes," he said grimly.