Chapter 4

They were enjoying the thrill of trampling people underfoot, as if this could somehow mask the fear of the company's impending collapse.

Alexis was so anxious that she was on the verge of tears. She motioned frantically to me to hurry up.

I looked at Fred's greasy face in amusement. "Fred."

I spoke calmly. My voice was not loud, but everyone in the room heard me clearly. "Did you misunderstand something?"

Fred froze. "Misunderstand what? That you're actually a wealthy heir? Don't kid yourself. You haven't changed your shoes for two years; why pretend?"

I shook my head. I took out a piece of paper from my backpack. It was not a resume, nor an apology letter; it was a copy of an official document bearing an embossed seal. "I'm not here to apply for a job. I'm here to inform you."

I waved the paper in my hand. "Due to Peak Performance Media, Inc.'s failure to pay three months of management fees and one month of rent, with no response to our payment demands, we are terminating the lease in accordance with the terms of the rental agreement."

I stared into Fred's eyes and uttered, "I won't rent this place to you anymore."

The air froze for three seconds.

The room erupted in even louder laughter than before.

Fred laughed so hard that tears streamed down his face. Even his finger trembled as he pointed at me. "Hahahaha! Did you all hear that? He says he's not letting me rent it anymore.

"Malcolm, have you lost your mind? Who do you think you are? The landlord of this building? If you're the landlord, then I'm Zeus!"

Jessica was doubled over with laughter. "Oh, I can't take it anymore! Malcolm, are you trying to kill me with laughter just so you can inherit my debts? If you're delusional, go get treatment; don't embarrass yourself. Security. Where's security?"

Fred waved his hand, his expression becoming ferocious. "Drag this lunatic out of here! Throw him straight onto the street. Don't let him run rampant here and ruin our team rally."

"I'd like to see who would do so." A roar echoed through the room.

From the shadows near the entrance, two rows of security guards in black marched in in perfect unison.

The heavy, rhythmic thud of their boots against the floor created an oppressive atmosphere that instantly stunned the entire room into silence.

Brandishing riot shields, the guards swiftly secured every exit to the conference room.

The employees who had been mocking me suddenly fell completely silent, as if they were chickens whose necks had been grabbed.

Jessica recoiled in terror, nearly twisting her ankle.

Flanked by the security guards, George icily stepped inside, adjusting his suit.

Fred froze. He knew exactly who George was — the head of property management for the Goldmill Building and a big shot whom he would normally need an appointment just to catch a glimpse of.

"Oh, Mr. Wilson!" Thinking his savior had arrived, Fred immediately put on a fawning expression and hurried over obsequiously.

"You've come at the perfect time! There's a fired lunatic here causing a scene. He's even masquerading as the landlord! How lawless. Have security seize him and hand him over to the police!"

Fred reached out, hoping to shake George's hand.

However, George did not even glance at him. He walked straight past Fred, as if he were merely stepping around a pile of trash.

Whilst over 100 people watched with shock, confusion and bewilderment, George walked up to me. He snapped to attention and bowed a perfect ninety-degree angle. "Mr. Lewis."

His voice was loud and resonant, echoing through the deathly silent conference room. “The maintenance team is in position. Security is in position. We're ready to clear the building. Please give us your orders.”