"I've never worn anything this cheap in my life.
If I find out you're conning me—
even if you gave me the opportunity to defeat the Fascist Axis last night—
I'll still punish you,"
grumbled Governor Harry, utterly exhausted after a long night of campaigning.
At the moment, Thomas, Harry, and Leo were all dressed in cowboy outfits—denim shirts, jeans, and wide-brimmed hats.
Thomas and Leo looked like a classic old-and-young Western duo, but Harry's outfit didn't suit him at all.
He walked stiffly and looked ridiculous.
The three of them strutted down the main street of Falls Town.
Their swagger wasn't out of arrogance—today was the town's annual Cowboy Festival,
celebrating its historic role in the Westward Expansion.
But unlike others heading toward the town center, the three of them quietly detoured toward the bubble house community Leo had mentioned yesterday.
As they neared, Harry's expression darkened.
Leo had told him and Thomas that the community yesterday had been an "uninhabited performance,"
a staged display with no actual residents.
Harry, hoping it might be true, had been eager to investigate—
even agreeing to wear this ridiculous cowboy getup.
God, I'm an idiot, he thought. Trusting a near-bankrupt gambler...
He turned, ready to walk away and get back to Richmond,
where he could at least convene with his family and allies to plan for the political fallout.
But Leo grabbed him by the arm:
"We're only a few steps away. Let's at least take a look."
From a distance, the bubble houses looked flawless.
But as they got closer, especially in the shaded corners,
Harry and Thomas saw massive patches of mold around the bases of the domes.
Their eyes lit up.
They quickly knocked on a door and were let inside.
Immediately, it was clear this was nothing like the well-furnished bubble home Wallace had shown them yesterday.
This interior looked like a disaster zone.
All the furniture was awkwardly placed—because furniture has straight lines, and the curved walls and ceilings didn't allow for proper alignment.
"Wallace's furniture must've been custom-made," Leo explained.
"As a renowned architect, he had the clout to get factories to work for him."
He pointed to an inner wall.
"Look at this—because of the dome-shaped ceiling, the walls don't reach the top.
There's zero soundproofing and no privacy at all."
Leo's calm, systematic breakdown resonated with the homeowner,
a decently educated municipal clerk from the town.
"That son-of-a-bitch Wallace conned our idiot mayor!
Two brainless jerks built us this pile of crap.
You know what people call us around town?
'Igloo Village.'
It's bullshit! This place is no better than a goddamn concentration camp!"
Leaving the house, the trio found several collapsed bubble homes in a corner of the community.
Some people were scavenging in the rubble.
Leo stepped up to ask what they were doing.
"Fixing my house with whatever I can find," one man snapped.
"Don't want to end up like Denton and Rem—crushed to death by their own homes while sleeping."
Crushed to death?!
The three men's eyes gleamed with this shocking new revelation.
After leaving Falls Town, Harry didn't mention his outfit again.
Instead, he waved his denim coat excitedly and crowed,
"Foolish Clinton! Stupid Clinton! He doesn't even realize he's been had—hahaha!"
Leo smirked to himself. Wasn't it this guy who looked like death yesterday, begging me to fight fascists?
"So what's next, Governor? Senator?"
Leo asked.
Thomas opened his mouth, but this time Harry cut in:
"What do you think we should do?"
"I remember a saying," Leo said. "The higher you jump, the harder you fall.
And I don't just dislike Clinton and the Gurian family constantly trying to mess with me—
I don't want them to fall.
I want them to die."
Leo knew this was a test, and dancing around the point would be meaningless.
"Ha! Good. Very good, Leo."
Harry laughed.
"When we get back, I'll work with Thomas to push your Democratic Party nomination forward."
What happened that day—especially when some followers defected—had changed Harry's mindset.
Compared to entrenched allies,
perhaps it was only hungry political talents like Leo who'd fight tooth and nail to survive.
As a seasoned politician, Harry knew he needed every type of card in his hand.
The Next Morning
Leo, accompanied by Kevin, drove to Morton Manor.
After returning from Falls Town the night before, Leo had gathered Kevin's design team
and, using the suburban home from his dream as a model,
combined it with the strengths of Lynchburg's farmhouse-style homes to create a brand-new suburban design.
By leveraging prefabricated materials, they completed their first design prototype.
After repeated evaluations, the team settled on a 20 + 5 model:
20 days for structural build, 5 days for basic interior finishing.
Due to its larger footprint, the new design was about $2,000 more than the farmhouse model.
But in terms of visual appeal and livability, it crushed both the farmhouse and the bubble house.
Inside Thomas's meeting room, the crowd was noticeably thinner than two days ago.
People were silently passing around Leo's blueprints.
"To be honest, I'd choose this," one legislator said.
"Looks a lot like a Cape Cod. Big and bright.
But the price and build time—way too far off."
"Where do you currently live, sir?" Leo asked.
"Uh… in a newly developed community in the Sector District," the legislator answered.
"When you bought your home, price was a factor—but you still bought it because it was right for you, correct?"
Leo asked again.
"Sure, but—"
"One more question: are you planning to move again soon?"
"No. I just bought it. I want it to be a family legacy in Richmond."
The legislator's tone was casual, given they were all among friends.
"Exactly. You think that way, and so do ordinary people.
A house isn't a gadget—it's a heavy asset.
You can't just toss it if it's uncomfortable.
People may buy the bubble house because it's cheap,
but it's not cheap enough to throw away.
So comfort becomes just as important as price when making a long-term housing choice."
Leo's words hit home.
These were elites who could afford to treat homes like accessories—
but now, they understood the perspective of the average citizen.
"So… we haven't lost yet?" one legislator murmured.
"Of course not," Leo said.
"This suburban house? It's the best home design tailored for ordinary Americans.
It's our weapon."
Thomas nodded.
"This design determines our fate.
Now go back and rally the builders you know.
Get them to Leo's company.
We're going to join forces and crush Londo Corp's bubble house."
Harry concluded:
"The fight's just begun.
Let's knock that bloated, hollow enemy to the ground."
After the meeting, Thomas asked Leo:
"You know why I only criticized the bubble house's livability,
but didn't reveal everything we found yesterday?"
Leo, watching the crowd disperse, replied:
"Because there's a traitor."
Thomas smiled, pleased.
"Exactly.
Clinton is naturally suspicious.
He might doubt the bubble houses,
but he'll also think we're just desperate and cornered.
But as long as it causes him any uncertainty—
we gain the upper hand."