Jeremy finally reached out his hand.He took the car key from the attendant’s palm with a calm motion, then leaned in slightly.“Let’s talk somewhere else,” he said briefly, his tone low and clearly not a request.The attendant was startled for a split second, then immediately nodded respectfully. Jeremy stepped ahead, heading toward the car parked right in front of the main entrance. Several pairs of eyes followed his every move, but this time he paid them no attention.The car door opened with a soft sound. Jeremy took the driver’s seat, while the attendant sat in the front passenger seat, his back straight, his demeanor still very formal.Once the door closed and the outside noise was shut out, Jeremy did not start the engine right away.He turned. His gaze was sharp and direct, fixing on the attendant without any preamble.“Tell me the truth. What did Michelle say to you?”The attendant stiffened slightly. His hands folded in his lap as if weighing his words, his eyes lowering for

Even though the retail store’s doors were tightly shut for seven days, its presence never truly disappeared from public conversation.That wasn’t a coincidence.Jeremy had calculated it that way.From the very first day of closure, he made sure the store stayed alive, not physically, but in people’s minds. The simple banner at the front didn’t just display the reopening date; it also carried a short line meant to spark curiosity:“Opening Soon! A New-Generation Shopping Experience.”It wasn’t exaggerated, nor did it promise anything too specific.But it was enough to make people ask questions.On local social media, the store’s official account, previously almost inactive, suddenly came to life. Not with price promotions, but with small fragments: photos of empty shelves, new lighting angles, a deliberately blurred screen of the checkout system, and a simple countdown to opening day.There were no technical explanations.That was precisely what made people start speculating on their o

Jeremy stood right in front of the bars of the temporary holding cell.The two thugs inside slowly lifted their heads, eyeing the figure before them with uncertainty. There was no uniform. No anger on his face. Just a young man dressed neatly, with a gaze far too calm for a situation like this.They didn’t know who he was, but they knew one thing for sure, this was not someone easy to deal with.Jeremy didn’t speak right away. Several seconds passed in a suffocating silence. He let his presence do the talking. The aura he had restrained for so long, the cold composure from his previous life, the experience of dealing with cunning and dangerous people—was no longer concealed.He had no intention of playing games.Lucas’s problem had to be resolved cleanly. Completely. If left alone, someone like that would only repeat the same tactics, in dirtier ways, causing far greater losses in the future.Finally, Jeremy spoke.“You know,” he said quietly, his tone flat, “giving false statements t

The store felt fresh.Not just because of the newly painted walls or the brighter lighting, but because the atmosphere itself felt new. The aisles were spacious, the shelves didn’t strain the eyes, and the product layout was neat without feeling rigid. Soft background music flowed gently audible, yet never intrusive.She picked up a basket.Just one item, she thought.But even on the first floor alone, she stopped several times. Daily necessities were clearly arranged, prices easy to read, and promotional labels placed right at eye level. Without feeling pressured, her hand moved on its own soap, cooking spices, tissues, two or three additional items she didn’t necessarily need today.When she went up to the second floor, that sense of “just browsing” completely disappeared.The two-story store turned out to be far more complete than she had expected. Household appliances, seasonal necessities, even several products she rarely found at retail stores near her home. Every corner felt ca

In the spacious living room, wide yet thick with tension, Noah stood with one hand tucked into his trouser pocket, the other lifted slightly as if restraining himself from gesturing too much.Across from him stood a middle-aged man in a neatly pressed house jacket, his hair already streaked with gray, Mr. Monroe.“How many times do I have to say this?” Mr. Monroe’s voice was low and controlled, but the strain of thinning patience was unmistakable.“What you’re doing is not a real job. Playing with a camera, uploading videos, waiting for likes and comments, that is not a future.”Noah let out a quiet breath and lowered his shoulders.“Dad, it’s not just fooling around,” he replied calmly, even making an effort to sound relaxed.“I have schedules, contracts, a steady audience. I make money. This isn’t pointless, okay?”Mr. Monroe looked at his only son, the child he and his wife had late in life. His gaze wasn’t harsh, but it was heavy with a worry he had carried for far too long.Ever