Contract Over: You're Free to Go のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 271 - チャプター 280

Marcus pointed toward the bustling atrium downstairs. "After the acquisition, Harborstone will roll out locations across smaller cities statewide. We're going to build a standardized production line."He continued without pause. "Red-brick walls? We'll use 3D-printed faux-vintage cladding. Skylight effects? High-lumen LED arrays can simulate them. Every blueprint and material list will be standardized."I want Urban Memories Location One, Location 20, and every one after that opening like a fast-food franchise. Within a month, they will be everywhere across the state."At that point, his expression hardened as he finally laid out the most important condition."Of course, to guarantee that kind of rapid replication, you will remain the principal designer in name after the acquisition. But all creative control and budget approval must be transferred to Harborstone's commercial strategy department."You won't need to waste time obsessing over lighting details anymore. Follow our temp

Wallace leisurely blew on his coffee and took a sip."Around here, Marcus Chandler of Harborstone Properties is the kind of man who can shake the whole district with a single step."He gave Avery a pointed look. "You're a tiny operation. Why not take the money, cash out, and leave quietly? Going up against capital like Marcus is only going to get you crushed."Wallace continued to warn, "Take my advice. You can't overpower someone that much stronger than you. Today it's the utilities. Tomorrow, maybe your fire exits suddenly fail inspection. You don't have the time or money to drag this out.His last pretense was gone.Avery slammed her palm onto the desk, her temper exploding. "Don't try to scare me with Marcus. We signed a legitimate lease and paid every cent of our property management fees."I don't care what excuse you come up with today. Restore our water and electricity immediately, or I'll see you in court."Wallace scoffed. "Court? Fine, sue us. Lawsuits can drag on for

The prominent creators who had visited Urban Memories days earlier and praised it across social media were furious when they learned that the landmark they had recommended was being suppressed by such underhanded tactics. One after another, they reposted Avery's article in support.The story spread virally across Facebook, while the comment sections were quickly overrun by furious readers.One commenter wrote, "This is disgusting. If they can't buy it, they destroy it? What century do these people think they're living in?"Another added, "That recording made my blood boil. Property management is nothing but corporate muscle."A third wrote, "This is exactly how good places get driven out by people like them. Protect Urban Memories. We cannot let a predatory developer destroy a place like this."Once public anger caught fire, there was no containing it.By noon, the controversy had escalated enough to draw attention from established local news outlets. Public complaint boards were

The tension in the air felt like a steel wire stretched to its breaking point. The scar-faced man spat out the flavorless chewing tobacco in his mouth and stared at the lean man refusing to give an inch.With a vicious grin, he raised one hand and reached for Silas' shoulder. After years in this line of work, nothing entertained him more than watching polished intellectual types get humiliated and ground into the dirt.Silas didn't move. Every muscle in his body had already tightened in preparation.A painfully cheesy pop ringtone suddenly blasted from the man's pocket, destroying the atmosphere in an instant.His hand froze halfway toward Silas. Annoyed, the man yanked out his phone, already prepared to curse whoever had chosen such a terrible moment to call.Then he glanced at the screen. The aggression vanished from his face.He hastily cleared his throat and answered with an almost servile smile. "Mr. Chandler, what can I do for you? The guys and I are already…"Before he co

At 11:30 pm, Urban Memories finally hung the wooden "Closed" sign on the door. After a full day of noise and crowds, the old mill at last fell quiet.The faint bitterness of roasted coffee beans still lingered in the air, mingling with the subtle scent of wood wax oil.The second-floor workspace was already dark. Avery had visited three building-material suppliers that day. She was so exhausted that she forgot her heels, slipped into disposable slippers, climbed into her car, and went home to catch up on sleep.Downstairs, Silas stood behind the bar with a clean white towel, slowly wiping down the expensive semi-automatic espresso machine. His hands stayed busy, but his mind kept returning to something Miranda had told him through the car window that evening.He remembered her words. "Art can afford to be idealistic. Protecting art requires leverage."Silas's hand stopped. Leverage, huh?He was a man who worked with a drafting pen. Where was he supposed to find the kind of levera