Feeling irritated, Leo pulled out a cigarette.
But as he lowered his head to light it, the strong wind made it nearly impossible.
Just as he was getting frustrated, a blue coat swung around him, creating a windless space.
Click—the lighter finally sparked.
The cigarette, mixed with a faint floral scent, tickled Leo's senses.
Following the scent, Leo's gaze trailed past the coat, past the snowy skin and up to Evelyn's wind-tousled chestnut hair—
she looked like a sprite from the northern winds.
Leo had seen many beautiful women before, but this moment, this gesture—
a girl shielding his flame from the wind with her coat—
it touched him deeply.
He didn't snap out of it until the burning sensation stung his fingers.
Startled, he flicked the cigarette away and muttered awkwardly,
"…Evelyn, what are you doing here?"
Ever since she'd met Leo, he had always seemed composed, confident, unshakable.
But now, this awkward version of him suddenly made him feel alive and—charmingly human.
On the top floor of the hotel palace, in a specially built domed observatory,
Leo and Evelyn sat casually—neither gentleman nor lady-like—
each with a bottle of red wine in hand.
After a sip, Leo said,
"So… you heard everything I said in the meeting earlier?"
"Yes. I was curious—whether you'd find the flaw in that bubble house."
Evelyn smiled brightly.
"I failed. You saw it."
Leo said with a trace of self-deprecation.
"I don't see it that way.
Even the strongest lion pride on the East African plains, perfectly coordinated,
still sometimes comes home empty-handed.
But they always regroup and attack again.
Failure is just the horn for the next charge."
This was a girl with both beauty and brains.
In that moment, Leo found himself genuinely intrigued.
"You've mentioned the East African plains before. Have you really been there?"
Leo asked.
Her smile changed slightly—
the corners of her ladylike lips curved into a playful arc,
giving her goddess-like face a sudden wild charm.
"My father was a zoologist.
Of course, my grandfather wanted him to be a politician.
When he found out my dad had secretly changed majors in college,
they had a terrible argument.
After that, my dad followed his mentor to the East African savannah.
When they landed in Cape Town, he met a Boer girl.
I was born the following year.
Because of me, he couldn't go on the expedition with his mentor.
When I turned five, he took my mother and me to what he called his holy land.
We crossed the majestic Drakensberg mountains—
their jagged peaks like the spines of giants—
then forded the surging Orange River,
a silver ribbon winding across the earth.
And finally, we reached the Serengeti.
There, countless creatures roamed free.
The roaring Mara River witnessed my childhood."
As Evelyn spoke with her musical voice,
Leo felt himself transported into the boundless wild,
as if the stars above the savannah had appeared in her eyes.
She seemed lost in memory.
Leo didn't ask what happened after.
There was no sign of her family around Thomas now—
her parents had likely passed away.
Sensing the sympathy in Leo's eyes, Evelyn smiled:
"Don't pity me, Leo.
Out there on the grasslands, I saw too much of nature's brutality.
Life and death are our fate.
So I've learned the secret to forgetting sorrow.
Want to hear it?"
Half a bottle of wine in, cheeks glowing red,
Evelyn stood up, stretched, and leaned in close to Leo.
That breathtaking face—so close—
a storm of hormones roared in Leo's veins.
"What is it?" he asked, voice low.
"Enjoy the moment. Live in the now."
And with that, Evelyn's red lips pressed softly against Leo's.
That night, beneath the Virginia sky,
a wild serenade from East Africa was sung.
"Hey Leo, wake up! You were right—Brad Pitt is with Angelina Jolie now!
Dude, the mansion he bought with his ex, Jennifer Aniston—
it's gorgeous!"
Leo slowly regained consciousness.
The distant memory took a long moment to settle in.
This looked like… a small-town internet café?
Beside him sat a middle school classmate—name long forgotten.
The kid was pointing excitedly at a webpage full of celebrity houses.
"Wow, this place was built in 1934!
Hey, check this out—the designer even built some weird balloon-like domes."
In his previous life, Leo was obsessed with CrossFire and "3 million brothers."
He never paid attention to stuff like this.
But this time, thanks to his past-life perspective,
Leo locked onto the text on the screen:
"Everyday living posed major problems:
the round, recessed rooms made it hard to arrange furniture or hang art.
The interior was prone to dampness and mold, and many dividing walls didn't reach the ceiling—privacy was a concern.
Ultimately, these buildings had a one-size-fits-all design that ignored environment, climate, and culture, making them unlivable.
Construction also varied wildly in difficulty depending on the terrain.
The structure proved unsafe in extreme conditions and eventually failed.
All of Neff's bubble houses in the U.S. were demolished—except the one he and his brother lived in."
Even better, beneath that was a photo and a caption:
"Levittown Suburb—considered the most successful and nearly perfect model of post-war American housing."
Leo's eyes flew open.
Though the article didn't say when the bubble houses were demolished,
the community in Falls Church had been built in 1942.
By now, their flaws should already be apparent.
And recalling his visit earlier that afternoon—
he realized what he'd missed.
Wallace's own house was on the hill, with a great view.
But the community of bubble houses?
It was downhill.
And now that he thought of it—it was empty.
There were no people there!
The enemy's weakness had revealed itself.
And now Leo knew what alternative to fight them with.
He finally saw how to win this battle.
Falls Church
The town hall was still brightly lit late at night.
The mayor and Wallace paced nervously in the office.
Just then, a clerk burst in:
"The sheriff called. All those outsiders are confirmed gone—they didn't come back."
The mayor and Wallace both let out sighs of relief.
"Tell everyone they can go home," the mayor said.
The clerk visibly relaxed.
A stream of grumbling town employees left their offices.
After a long walk, they returned to their neighborhood—
their bubble house neighborhood.
As they entered, the complaints grew louder:
"Crap house. This damn Igloo Village…"
"Are you sure this is going to work?
Can those stinking flaws in the design really be fixed?"
The mayor looked deeply worried.
Wallace snapped back:
"It's not garbage! It's the greatest design in the history of housing!
It will solve the global housing crisis!
This is my proudest work!"
Then his voice softened, and he collapsed into a chair, muttering like he was trying to convince himself:
"It'll be fine. Once we start mass-producing, the materials and technology will improve.
We'll fix the flaws… we have to…"
The mayor, already on the ship with Wallace, muttered grimly:
"Too late to care. We're already on your damn boat.
And if this thing goes down, we're all going with it."