Semua Bab Revenge Is Best Served Hot: Bab 1 - Bab 10

My name was Zachary Leeds, the owner of The Hungry Pocket. My business was set up next to a construction site.Three years ago, I quit my job at a big company and used up all my savings to open this budget restaurant right next to the city's largest construction site.The specialty here was a ten-dollar meal deal, tailored for workers on site.For just ten dollars, workers could enjoy a hearty plate of meatloaf or fried chicken, with unlimited sides of mashed potatoes, corn, and cornbread. In winter, we served free hot soup; in summer, we gave out free iced lemonade.It wasn't gourmet food, but it was healthy, hearty, and affordable, which was exactly what blue-collar workers needed.I priced it low just to cover the costs and keep the place running.In fact, I never intended to make a big profit. After all, my father had spent his life working on construction sites.Poor nutrition there gave him stomach cancer, and he passed away before turning 60. I didn't want other workers t

Blood trickled down my forehead as the rotten food hit me."Pay us the money, or we'll make sure a greedy businessman like you gets what you deserve!"I didn't even know who yelled that, but the crowd surged forward, and they started kicking and punching me.In the chaos, someone kicked me in the stomach and knocked me to the ground. I could feel a searing pain burning inside me.Someone stomped on my leg, and with a crack, I heard my shin snap. The pain was so intense that I couldn't stop screaming.But they weren't done. Yves pinned my hands down, then said to the others, "Those hands of his are the ones that cooked our food every day, and they've ruined our health! Now I'm going to break them so he can't hurt anyone else!"With that, he began smashing my fingers with a steel rod. The pain made my mind go blank, and I finally lost consciousness.When I woke up again, it was already night. The crowd had dispersed, and I was lying alone on the ground, still smelling of rotten

My restaurant's target market wasn't regular folks at all. I was catering to the wealthy business owners. They had money, and they wouldn't care about the price. As long as the food satisfied them, they would pay anything. Four thousand dollars? Heck, they'd pay tenfold if they were happy with the food quality.That was why, from the very start, I set up a membership system and accepted only a fixed number of customers per day.To meet their needs, I turned the pond behind the restaurant into a private fishing pond. The area was quiet, and there wasn't anyone around to disturb the anglers.Just as I'd anticipated, business took off. Soon, I couldn't keep up with the number of customers, and the restaurant was booked out months in advance.The money came pouring in every day, and I couldn't help but smile every time I saw the profits.But while I was celebrating, Yves and the workers—who had been waiting for me to go bankrupt with the expensive restaurant so they could get the budg

I found the workers' remarks hilarious.The workers were grateful to Yves' parents for cooking them ten-dollar meals. They practically worshipped them.Yet, my ten-dollar meals were considered dirty, unsanitary, and overpriced!These people truly had double standards.I shook my head and returned to my own restaurant.The next day, the manager called in sick, so I took over some of his duties and headed out to check out potential suppliers.While passing the market where I once had bought ingredients for my budget eatery, I bumped into Yves' parents.I paused and decided to follow them.They walked through the market and eventually stopped at the dirtiest, most rundown stall. They pulled out 50 dollars and said to the owner, "Here's 50 bucks. We want the leftover, unwanted vegetable leaves and nearly rotten fruit that nobody else wants. We'll come by every day to pick it up. Make sure you have it ready for us."The owner, curious, asked, "What are you going to do with all that

With that, Steve grabbed me by the collar and lifted me up. "Call your restaurant manager. Tell him to prepare five million dollars in cash. Have him personally bring it here in an hour."I dialed the manager's number, and after a brief moment of panic, he quickly regained composure. He told Yves and Steve that if I were harmed in any way, they wouldn't get a single penny of the ransom."If he's unharmed, you'll get the full five million, and I won't call the cops."After thinking it over, Steve agreed.However, Yves kept glaring at me with a creepy look that made me feel uneasy.An hour later, the manager arrived at the abandoned factory with a large suitcase full of cash.But as soon as he entered the factory, Yves' parents appeared from the shadows.I knew that I was in a dangerous position and had to think fast to save myself. So, I turned to Yves and said, "You're an idiot. How do you know that he isn't lying to you? Do you know how heavy five million dollars in cash is