"Good to see you, Instructor!"
At Lynchburg Station, passersby turned their heads in curiosity at the unusual scene on the platform: three men dressed in hunting gear, business suits, and plaid shirts—clearly from different professions—snapping to attention and saluting Leo in unison.
Behind Leo, Joseph and the others looked excited. Sean rushed forward to embrace Walter Hogg in hunting gear. The two were both heavy machine gunners—one from Team One, the other from Team Two. There used to be a Team Three, but due to a fatal command from MacArthur, the young men of that team had fallen forever on the far end of the Pacific.
"Instructor, your call came just in time. Any later and I'd have been on my way to help at my brother's grocery store in Oklahoma."
That was Walker Walton, the machine gunner from Team Two. Leo had seen a documentary before and realized this young man seemed to be the younger brother of Sam Walton, future founder of Walmart—a retail genius in his own right, just overshadowed by his brother's brilliance.
"No need to help your brother. There's a store here that needs a manager."
"Instructor, I have no experience in that area... but I can give it a try. Sounds fun."
Walker was lively and playful as he grinned at Leo.
"Your skin's itching again, huh? Smiling like that at me? Just like when I picked you out from logistics, you've got the talent. Trust my judgment—you're a retail genius."
Walker nodded and immediately began horsing around with Daniel, another machine gunner.
Leo turned to the last man in a plaid shirt, studying him for a few seconds before stepping forward to embrace him.
"Welcome, Edward."
"Boss, long time no see."
Aside from Desmond, no one in the special forces unit had earned Leo's trust more than the man before him—Edward Kirk. A Princeton mathematics graduate and bona fide intellectual, Edward had been too principled for his own good, disrupting the backroom schemes of the logistics officers and consequently being assigned to the special ops team as a death sentence.
After three years of war and Leo's rigorous training, Edward had become the team's most reliable quartermaster—capable of balancing wildly uneven accounts and, more importantly, fiercely loyal.
"I heard you needed an accountant. So here I am."
At the original site of Locke's grain company stood a three-story building flanked by two large warehouses in the zone between the industrial area and the town. It now served as the headquarters of Leo's construction company.
To the left of the building was an empty lot about the size of a 400-meter track. It, too, belonged to Leo. At that moment, 80 strong young men stood assembled—members of the town's new association and handpicked employees of Leo's construction firm.
The day the association was founded had drawn a lot of attention. Aside from Fox's disruption, Andy Jones had immediately gotten word. While secretly cursing Leo for disrupting the local hiring market, Andy had—very earnestly—started his own mass recruitment.
Among the three companies, Leo was the strictest. Though there were many veterans in the association, he didn't go on a hiring spree. That would only raise costs with no real benefit. He evaluated applicants for education, history of alcoholism, and any disciplinary records in the military. Only those meeting all three criteria and passing Kevin's screening were hired.
It was reminiscent of ancient China's "good family sons joining the army."
Fox was a bit more lenient but still selective. Jones Real Estate, being the largest property firm in town with a steady stream of contracts, hired indiscriminately. They made a splash while Leo stayed low-key.
Once he had his ideal recruits, Leo immediately launched onboarding training.
The training was simple: military-style drills in the morning to instill discipline, followed by technical training in the afternoon, led by Kevin. Leo trained alongside his employees every morning. On the first day, he demonstrated several military techniques that left the veterans in awe.
At lunch, Leo joined them in the cafeteria—rotating tables each day. Thanks to his extraordinary memory, he remembered each employee's name and general family background. In ancient times, this was the art of commanding an army. In modern terms, it was high-quality emotional engagement—something these 1945 small-town soldiers found even more compelling than today's youth would.
Leo quickly won over their loyalty.
Just three days ago, one of the workers got into a bar fight because someone insulted Leo as a pretty boy mooching off others—loyally defending his boss's name.
In truth, Leo had allowed Patrick's man, Eric, into the company, but Eric held no real power. Power means nothing without cooperation. As long as the employees kept making money, Leo's position in the company would be untouchable.
Just like now—as Leo stepped onto the temporary podium, the crowd below watched him with unwavering seriousness.
"There's been a lot of gossip in town lately—saying you all joined a company led by some pretty boy who lives off others. They say the job's pointless, that we don't build houses, and all we do is train. So I want to ask you—do you really believe that?"
"No, sir!" many replied instinctively.
"Good. I'm glad that all 80 of you are still here after a week of training. That means you believe in the company's future—not just because I gave you that extra $20 weekly pay and free lunch, right?"
It was the first time they heard Leo crack a joke, and it landed perfectly. The men burst into laughter.
"It's both, boss!"
"Exactly! If we're not here to earn money, are we here to make the boss rich?" Leo said.
"Let me be clear—if the day ever comes when I can't help you earn money, then you should fire me!"
This era of America still embraced traditional moral values—honesty, hard work, loyalty, and wealth through personal effort.
The young men had never heard such money-minded yet thoughtful words from a boss. In most small towns, a man picked one company and stayed there for life. The idea of firing your boss? Unthinkable—especially when the boss himself suggested it.
It left a profound impact on their hearts.