Toussaint nodded and said,
"Alright, no problem.
But I do have one question. In the Council of Seven, Patrick holds four votes.
Even if Michael and Father Lester oppose him,
they likely won't be able to stop the formation of the Grain Regulatory Committee."
What Toussaint said was clever—first analyzing the situation, then posing a question to subtly remind Leo:
What you're doing might be in vain. Worse, it could completely provoke Patrick and ruin the favorable balance you've created.
This was exactly the kind of person Leo urgently needed now—logical, politically astute, and capable of independent thinking.
His comrades were loyal, but too young and inexperienced. He needed someone like a strategist to handle more delicate matters.
"Toussaint, you haven't seen through the essence of politics.
Any rule where the minority obeys the majority has a premise: that the majority holds decisive power over the matter at hand."
Seeing Toussaint's confused expression, Leo gave him a hint:
"Who owns the most land in Lynchburg right now?"
"Patrick," Toussaint answered without hesitation.
"And who are second and third?"
Toussaint, ever meticulous, had done thorough research before pledging allegiance to Leo.
Having recently been involved in the Locke estate division, he was even more well-informed.
"Second is the Seventh-Day Adventist Church. Third, since Locke's death, is Michael."
"Exactly. Patrick may own two-fifths of the town's land,
but the church and Michael each own one-fifth.
The other councilors' opinions don't matter as much.
What truly matters is whether Michael and Father Lester are willing to enforce the bill."
Leo added meaningfully,
"Why do so many bills fail to be implemented in America?
Because without real cooperation, even a passed bill is nothing but a joke.
Money translates to power; wealth determines status.
Patrick knows this well. In the past, Michael and Father Lester had no connection.
That gave him the opportunity to divide and conquer.
But my presence bridged the trust between the two—
and that made me the biggest obstacle to the Odo family's full control over Lynchburg."
"Then why did he involve you in the division of the Locke estate?" Toussaint asked, still puzzled.
Leo replied slowly,
"Because change happens during development.
When Patrick was playing mediator among all factions, he wasn't thinking that far ahead.
All he wanted was Locke's grain futures license.
But once he became Lynchburg's biggest landowner,
his swelling power bred ambitions.
And when he looked up, he saw me in his path.
What I can't figure out is—why is someone usually so calculating acting so urgently this time?"
He patted Toussaint's shoulder and added,
"As you can see, my situation is just as complicated.
There's still time to walk away, Toussaint.
The world is big. Somewhere out there, you could be safe."
"Leo, you don't need to test me again. If I wanted to run, I'd have done it already. I want revenge.
And knowing you, if you're expecting a confrontation with Patrick,
then you've already made your plans.
Just tell me what to do."
They talked for a long time.
As they left the villa, Toussaint turned to Leo and said,
"Leo, the one who helps me take revenge will have my loyalty. I meant every word."
"Leo, phone call!"
Emily's voice came from upstairs.
"Hello, Valentino speaking."
"Coach, it's me—Kent."
Kent Dewey. Former deputy captain of the special operations team. A true killing machine, a lone wolf.
He had gone through every stage of emotion toward Leo: disapproval, frustration, understanding, admiration, and finally, fanatic devotion.
After Leo had beaten down "Emperor Mike," Kent, the only other viable successor for the squad's leadership, refused Mike's offer.
He kept defending Leo and was eventually squeezed out of the military.
"I'm working for the FBI now, Coach. Your microexpression training really paid off."
"You always had the talent, Kent. So, what's this call about?"
"I need your help."
Kent had quickly earned favor with Director Hoover at the FBI, who even considered setting up a department just for him.
But Kent, proud and principled, insisted on starting from the bottom.
Problem was—he was just a country boy, unaware of how deep the waters ran in D.C.
In Washington, even a spit out the car window might land on a senator's son's shoes.
He was a perfect fall guy.
Sure enough, during a missing persons investigation, Kent stumbled into a political trap.
An arranged affair, a post-marriage scandal,
and a court case that could shake the moral standing of two senatorial families—Kent had walked right into it.
Leo frowned, pulled out his little red notebook of contacts, and tapped on the name of an old comrade from New Mexico—
a man whose family controlled vast land and smuggling routes there.
"Kent, you know my resources are limited now.
All I can do is try to get you out of the country."
"No, Coach, that's not what I meant.
Director Hoover covered for me.
He helped the two senators bury the carefully laid political scandal."
Hoover? That old fox being so generous?
Leo had crossed paths with Hoover plenty of times.
To recruit Leo into the FBI, Hoover had done everything short of selling his soul.
The moment Leo arrived in New York, Hoover was already waiting at the airport café,
holding out multiple fake identities and saying,
"As long as you work with me, MacArthur can't touch you!"
And in his other hand?
A thick dossier full of MacArthur's darkest secrets.
Charming, right?
Leo was sure it was Hoover who made him "public knowledge" in New York.
Who in America didn't know? Hoover was the king of stings—he even baited President Roosevelt and walked away clean.
Leo didn't want to get tangled with such a legendary manipulator.
But Kent had once saved his life. Leo decided to at least hear him out.
"So what do you need from me, Kent?"
"Director Hoover tied up the case nicely.
Only one small problem remains—
the man involved in the affair, a small but critical pawn, slipped away."
"Ha. In America, who could escape Hoover's dragnet?"
"We're facing pushback—not from big names,
but from D.C.'s bureaucrats.
Even Hoover can't risk a federal shutdown.
But the case needs to be resolved soon, or all the groundwork falls apart.
He gave me the task.
Through my investigation, I found a vague lead—
That man might be hiding in Lynchburg, Virginia!"