Andres used the security camera footage to look for the blonde man’s identity on the internet. He didn’t search it for himself but made a worker do it.

And the female worker wearing glasses was shocked by the search results. “SFF Charles!”

“What?” Andres didn’t like the tone of the worker. “Who is he?”

“Straight-fucking-flash Charles, sir!” the worker seemed quite shocked. “This guy got an undefeated record at poker. He pulls out straight flushes half the time and utterly thrashes everyone at the table. Whenever he played, nobody has pulled out a Royal Flush. Never. Not once. Only straight flushes are possible, and that’s also only by him, which is why he’s got the infamous name! Many casinos had already banned this guy from entering!”

“He’s a gambler?”

“He was. After he got banned by most casinos, he began entering official tournaments, unofficial gaming series and charity events. Do you remember the billionaire Bisconsley’s charity event that happened last month? This guy went and earned over 30 million dollars at that event. Everyone thought he would donate, but he didn’t. He became headlines in many newspapers the next day. After suffering backlash from the media, he publicly challenged anyone to come and beat him at poker, and that if he loses, he’d give hundred million dollars to his opponent and also donate another 100 million dollars to the charity.”

“What?” Andres looked like he was hearing some fairy tale. “Just how much money does this bastard have in his bank account?”

“At least 200 dollars from what we can tell, assuming he isn’t lying, of course, sir.”

“Tsk,” Andres walked away angrily.

The worker felt a little disappointed that Andres didn’t even appreciate her for her efforts.

She looked for Myers’ mansion on the internet. “Geez, look at the size of it.”

“Wow, whose building is it?” a male worker joined in.

“Gregory Myers… the founder of the Myers Enterprises. The guy lives in a freaking five-story mansion spread over 15,000 square feet, and don’t even get me started about all the McLarens, BMWs, Ferraris and other exotic luxury cars he owns. He is living like a king.”

“Damn,” the male worker openly displayed his envy as the pictures of Gregory’s lifestyle and his touring moments were being displayed on the desktop. “I want to live like him and one day wake up in a 500 mil~ private jet with coffee and newspaper ready and a beautiful maid to say good morning.”

“Haha, there should be a limit to your dreams,” the female worker laughed a bit disappointedly. “Forget about a 500 million dollar jet, I’d be more than happy if I could buy a 50,000 dollar car. If only I was good at something like Charles was at poker…” she could only wish her fate would somehow change one day.

Meanwhile, somewhere else in the city.

Charles visited the grocery store he owned and opened as Carlos, just to check on the workers and how things were happening there. The store received produce from a few brokers, exporters, and various other sources. Once he had opened the store, most of the grocery stores he had relationships with terminated their contracts and stopped supplying goods to him. However, there were many entry ports where Carlos could fetch fresh goods from. He had even attended auctions or received donations from local farms whenever possible.

Thanks to his efforts, he became successful, but there was a big difference between his grocery store and others in that SGNG actively delivered groceries to whoever requested them.

The average customer requested 1 to 2 orders per week. SGNG had only one branch, and so the growth rate had slowed down. He approached the restaurants and made deals with them. This was a game-changing move for his company because from then on, he didn’t need to worry about how many grocery orders people made every day. He received stable profits, and the business was going pretty good with high asset turnover. After leaving the company in the hands of a capable worker, he assumed the identity of Charles Wallace.

He approached the grocery store manager as Charles, wearing a rather friendly expression. “The store looks neat, and the products look fresh.”

“Ah, yes,” the manager, an adult man in his fifties, smiled and said, “we take utmost priority in keeping the store clean as the owner wants.” He was cutting melons and packing the pieces in a bag.

“You’re the manager, right? Why are you doing this labor?”

“I’m free right now, and I don't want to be sitting and doing nothing, so…”

Charles smiled pleasantly. “The store owner is lucky to have a hard-working manager like you. How much do you get paid here?”

The manager’s expression changed. He observed Charles a little more intently. He could tell Charles was a rich man just from looking at his attire, but what were his reasons for visiting the store? “What do you want, mister?”

“Nothing. I just wanted to take a look…” Charles started walking away. (I won’t be coming here for a while, so run it well, Tom.) Tom was the name Carlos used to call him back when they used to live in an orphanage as kids. Thomas was his real name, and he couldn’t recognize Carlos because it had been so long, but Carlos didn’t blame him. Also, Carlos couldn’t reveal his true identity to his old friend for his own safety.

Charles walked out of the store, entered his s-class black Mercede. “I couldn’t get my hands on a Ferrari, but this should be enough to not disappoint the bitch,” he thought, and the benz car then took off and disappeared into the distance.