They Will All Bow To Me!

Chapter 4

The boys got into a taxi and arrived at Neon Wears, the most luxurious and exclusive shopping store on campus—a place where only the rich and powerful dared to shop. The exterior gleamed with glass panels and golden railings that shimmered beneath the afternoon sun. Luxury cars lined the parking lot, their glossy paint reflecting the status of their owners. Inside, through the transparent doors, mannequins dressed in designer outfits stood like proud soldiers of wealth and vanity.

Barry whistled long and loud as soon as they stepped out of the taxi.

“Bro, this place looks like heaven’s closet,” he exclaimed.

Jace echoed, “We’re really doing this, huh? Shopping at Neon Wears on our last day!”

Michael was quiet. His eyes scanned the grandeur with calm indifference. To his friends, this was a once-in-a-lifetime experience. To him, it was merely a familiar sight—one he had lived around for most of his life before being cast out by his family.

Barry and Jace rushed toward the gate, laughing like excited children. But before they could step in, a deep, commanding voice stopped them.

“Hold it right there,” said a burly man dressed in a black security uniform. He was flanked by four other guards, all wearing matching sunglasses despite the cloudy sky.

The boys froze.

“Uh, we’re just here to shop,” Barry said quickly, forcing a nervous smile.

The head of the security squad looked them over—head to toe—with eyes full of disdain. “You? Shop? Here?” He chuckled dryly. “Do you think this is some street market?”

Barry straightened, trying to keep his composure. “Sir, we know where we are. We just came to buy a few things. We’ve got money.”

The man’s lips curled into a mocking grin as he stepped closer. His shadow loomed over Barry like a storm cloud. “Oh really? How much money are we talking about?” He sniffed. “Because last I checked, people who shop here arrive in cars worth more than your entire tuition. And you three—” he paused, smirking—“walked here.”

Jace frowned. “We took a taxi, actually.”

The man laughed so loud it echoed across the lot. “A taxi! You hear that, boys?” he said to his team. “These ones came to steal!”

The other guards laughed.

Barry and Jace were quick to defend themselves. “No, sir! We’re not thieves! We just wanted to buy some clothes. We’re final-year students, and this is our last day on campus.”

The head guard stepped even closer, his breath heavy with arrogance. “You don’t belong here. Now get out before I—”

Before he could finish, Michael spoke up, his voice calm but firm. “That’s enough.”

Everyone turned to him.

“If your store doesn’t want our money, fine. But don’t you dare accuse us of stealing. That’s not just disrespect—it’s stupidity,” Michael said coldly.

The guards went silent for a moment. The head of security blinked in disbelief, then burst into a cruel laugh. “You’re telling me Neon Wears would lose if you take your business elsewhere?”

Barry and Jace immediately pulled Michael back, whispering in panic, “Bro, calm down! Please, don’t start trouble.”

Michael clenched his jaw. His anger simmered beneath the surface, but he stayed silent—for his friends’ sake. In his heart, though, he burned with fury. ‘If these fools only knew who I am…’ he thought. ‘If they only knew that the Scofield Empire could buy and bury Neon Wears in seconds.’

But instead of revealing himself, he turned his back slightly, forcing his expression into neutrality.

The head of security, clearly angered by Michael’s defiance, barked, “You think you can talk back to me, boy?” He motioned to his men, who immediately surrounded the trio. “Let’s teach them a little lesson about manners.”

Barry and Jace dropped to their knees, pleading, “Please, sir! He didn’t mean it! He’s just upset, that’s all!”

The man sneered. “Words can’t be taken back. If he wants to act tough, let’s see if he is tough.”

Michael’s hands tightened into fists. The anger he’d tried to bury for years—the humiliation, the mockery, the pain of living beneath his name—boiled over.

For four years, he had lived as an ordinary student, enduring insults from fools like this. For four years, he had watched men with no class or character act superior because they had money—money that was nothing compared to his family’s wealth.

Barry tugged at his leg. “Michael, please! Just kneel. Please!”

But Michael stood tall, unmoving. His eyes locked onto the head guard’s.

The man, whose name tag read CHARGER, took a step forward, poking Michael’s chest with his finger. “You think you can fight me, huh? You think you’re man enough? Do you even know who I am?”

Michael said nothing.

One of the guards puffed his chest proudly and announced, “This is Charger—the ex-gang leader who joined the army and was too wild for them to handle! Five years in the military, two years in jujitsu, four years as a mercenary!”

Charger smirked as his men glorified him. “You hear that, boy? You’re lucky I don’t break bones for free anymore.”

Michael looked him dead in the eye. “You’ve never broken anything in your life except rules and lies.”

The laughter from the guards froze instantly. The air grew thick.

“What did you just say?” Charger asked, stepping closer until his face nearly touched Michael’s.

“I said you’re a fraud,” Michael replied evenly. “I’ve met real soldiers, real fighters, real killers. You’re not one of them.”

A collective gasp escaped from the onlookers nearby. Charger’s nostrils flared as rage flooded his face. He raised his hand to strike Michael.

But just before the blow could land—

“CHARGER! STAND DOWN!”

A sharp female voice sliced through the tension.

Everyone turned. Standing at the entrance of Neon Wears was a tall young woman in a sleek white suit and dark glasses. Her confident stride and flawless posture announced her authority before her words did.

Charger froze mid-motion, his arm suspended in the air. “Ma’am—”

“Lower your hand,” she ordered coldly.

Reluctantly, he obeyed.

Michael’s eyes narrowed slightly. He recognized her face.

Becky Franchester. The younger sister of Danny Franchester. Manager of Neon Wears.

The same family whose name now burned in his mind with vengeance.

Becky’s heels clicked sharply as she approached, her gaze flicking between Charger and Michael. “What’s going on here?”