Return Of The Campus King

CHAPTER 4

“You… you’re firing me?” Justin asked slowly, as though he could not quite believe that the words were truly coming out of his own mouth.

The manager crossed his arms impatiently and looked at him with clear irritation.

“Yes,” he replied bluntly. “You heard me.”

Justin shook his head weakly, still trying to process everything that was happening.

“But you’re only hearing their side of the story,” he said, his voice strained but earnest. “I can explain what really happened if you would just give me a chance.”

He took a small step forward, desperation showing in his expression.

“Manager, please listen to me. I didn’t—”

Before he could finish his sentence, a sharp sound suddenly cut through the air.

A loud slap echoed across the lobby.

Justin’s head snapped violently to the side from the force of it, and a burning sensation spread instantly across his cheek.

For a moment, he stood frozen in shock before slowly turning his head back.

Standing directly in front of him was Britney White, her hand still slightly raised from the slap, her face filled with nothing but disgust.

“Are you not ashamed of yourself?” she snapped harshly.

Justin stared at her silently, his eyes searching her face as though hoping to find even a trace of the person he once knew, but there was nothing there.

Britney scoffed when he did not respond.

“Can’t you see that the manager does not want you here anymore?” she said coldly.

Justin clenched his teeth tightly, but he said nothing.

Britney then turned toward the manager, her expression turning firm and authoritative.

“If you do not make him disappear right now,” she said in a chilling tone, “then we will proceed with shutting down this hotel.”

The manager’s expression changed immediately, panic flashing across his face.

“No, no, please!” he said quickly, his voice suddenly filled with nervousness.

He bowed slightly toward Britney and Steven, trying to appease them.

“With your boyfriend’s family’s influence, the hotel would definitely suffer,” he added hurriedly, clearly afraid of the consequences.

Steven stood beside Britney with an arrogant, satisfied smile, clearly enjoying the situation.

The manager then turned back toward Justin, his face hardening with anger.

“Do not worry,” he said coldly. “I will deal with him.”

Justin frowned, confusion and unease filling his expression.

“Deal with me how?” he asked cautiously.

The manager did not answer him directly. Instead, he raised his hand and snapped his fingers sharply.

Almost immediately, two large men appeared from a nearby hallway.

They were security guards, both tall, broad-shouldered, and muscular, with intimidating expressions.

The manager pointed directly at Justin without hesitation.

“Beat him up,” he said calmly, as though he were giving an ordinary instruction.

Justin’s eyes widened in shock.

“W-what?” he stammered, unable to believe what he had just heard.

The manager’s expression remained cold and unmoved.

“And after that,” he continued, “throw him into the gutter outside the hotel.”

Before Justin could react or even attempt to defend himself, the two guards stepped forward and grabbed him roughly.

“Wait!” Justin shouted instinctively.

But it was already too late.

One of the guards drove his fist hard into Justin’s stomach.

The impact was brutal.

“Ugh!” Justin gasped as the air was knocked completely out of his lungs.

Before he could recover, the second guard kicked him sharply in the leg, causing him to lose his balance.

Justin collapsed to the floor with a heavy thud.

“Please—!” he tried to say, his voice weak and broken.

But the beating had already begun.

The two guards showed no restraint as they began to strike him repeatedly.

Punches landed on his face, his ribs, and his back in rapid succession.

Each blow sent waves of pain through his body.

His cries filled the lobby as he struggled helplessly against the assault.

“Stop… please, stop!” he begged, his voice trembling with pain.

But his pleas fell on deaf ears.

His uniform shirt tore apart under the force of the attack, the buttons scattering across the floor as the fabric ripped.

Soon, his clothes were reduced to tattered pieces.

Blood began to trickle from the corner of his mouth, mixing with the dirt on his face.

Still, the guards continued, their movements mercilessly.

Nearby, Britney stood with her arms folded across her chest, watching the scene with a faint smile on her lips.

There was no sympathy in her eyes, only cold amusement.

Steven stood beside her, laughing quietly as though this were some form of entertainment.

“Wow,” Steven said mockingly, shaking his head slightly. “The toilet cleaner is getting a very special service tonight.”

Britney chuckled softly.

“Maybe this will finally help him remember his place,” she added.

Through the haze of pain, Justin could faintly hear their voices, but he could barely respond. His body was already too weak to move.

After several minutes of the brutal assault, the guards finally stopped.

Without any care, they grabbed Justin by the arms and dragged his limp body across the hotel floor.

His head hung low, his vision blurred and unfocused as blood dripped slowly onto the ground.

They pulled him all the way to the entrance of the hotel before one of them delivered another kick to his side.

“Trash like you should know where you belong,” the guard muttered coldly.

Then, without hesitation, they flung him violently into the roadside gutter.

Dirty water splashed in all directions as his body landed with force.

His head struck against the hard concrete edge.

Everything went dark.

The guards dusted their hands casually, as though they had simply completed a routine task, and then turned around and walked back into the hotel.

When they returned to the lobby, the manager looked at them expectantly.

“Is it done?” he asked.

One of the guards nodded.

“Yes, sir,” he replied. “He will not dare come back here again.”

The manager smiled in satisfaction.

“Very good,” he said.

He then turned toward Britney and Steven, his expression once again becoming polite and respectful.

“I sincerely apologize for the inconvenience earlier,” he said, bowing slightly. “That cleaner will never disturb you again.”

Britney nodded casually, as though the entire incident was insignificant.

The manager continued eagerly, “To make up for the trouble, I would like to upgrade your room.”

Steven raised an eyebrow with interest.

“Oh?” he said.

“Yes,” the manager replied quickly. “A better suite, one that you will surely enjoy for the rest of your evening.”

Steven smiled, clearly pleased.

“That sounds much better,” he said.

Britney held onto his arm happily.

“Let’s go then,” she said.

The two of them walked away together, leaving the manager standing there, relieved that the situation had been resolved in his favor.

Meanwhile, outside the hotel, time passed slowly.

Four hours went by, and the night grew colder and quieter.

Inside the dark, dirty gutter, a faint groan suddenly broke the silence.

Justin’s fingers twitched slightly before he slowly opened his eyes.

“Ugh…” he groaned weakly.

Pain surged through his entire body the moment he regained consciousness.

His face was swollen, his lips cracked, and his entire body ached as though every bone had been shaken loose.

His clothes were torn and soaked with mud.

With great difficulty, Justin pushed himself up from the filthy water.

Every movement felt like torture, but he forced himself to keep going.

He staggered out of the gutter and stood unsteadily on the roadside, his body trembling as he tried to maintain his balance.

“Why…” he whispered painfully.

Memories flooded his mind all at once… Britney’s betrayal, Steven’s mocking laughter, the manager’s slap, and the merciless beating.

Each moment replayed vividly, echoing inside his head.

Justin began walking slowly down the dark street, his steps were unsteady.

Eventually, he passed by a small coffee shop.

Bright lights shone warmly from inside, drawing his attention.

Justin paused for a moment and looked through the large glass window.

Inside, a television was mounted on the wall, broadcasting the news.

A female broadcaster spoke with excitement.

“After many years,” she said, “the world’s richest man has finally decided to release his only son from punishment. Though he has refused to declare the son's identity to the media.”

At first, Justin paid little attention.

But then her next words caught his ear.

“He has decided to restore all of his son’s wealth.”

Justin slowly lifted his head and looked more closely at the screen.

“And not only that,” the broadcaster continued, “the young master will soon take over his father’s vast empire.”

Justin frowned slightly, a strange feeling stirring within him.

At that exact moment—

His phone suddenly vibrated.

Justin blinked in surprise and slowly took out his cracked phone.

Another vibration followed.

Then another.

Three notifications appeared in quick succession, each from a different bank.

Frowning, Justin opened the messages one by one.

As he read them, his eyes widened in shock.

His bank account had been unfrozen.

Access to his funds had been fully restored.

All restrictions had been lifted.

Justin froze where he stood.

“For years…?” he whispered under his breath, his hands beginning to tremble.

Before he could fully process what was happening, his phone suddenly rang.

An unknown number appeared on the screen.

He hesitated for a brief moment before answering.

“…Hello?” he said cautiously.

A calm and respectful voice responded from the other end of the line.

“Good evening, Young Master.”

Justin’s body stiffened instantly.

The voice continued in a composed tone.

“It is time for you to return home.”

Justin stood there in the middle of the street, completely frozen, shock written all over his face.