On the day I go to the car dealership to pick up my car, I'm told that the previous salesperson has resigned, so a different salesperson will attend to me.

Yet the first thing the salesperson does is say that I paid too little for the car and demand that I pay more to make up the difference.

"The other salesperson is truly an idiot. How could he sell a car for 300 thousand dollars in cash? It's no wonder he got chewed out and quit. If you want to take the car, you'll have to switch to a five-year loan with an interest rate of 12%."

I'm rendered speechless as he blatantly tries to extort me.

"I've already paid and signed the sales contract. You're breaching the contract!"

The salesperson scoffs. "So what? The car is with us anyway. If you're not going to pay the difference, don't even think of taking the car with you!"

I can't help but chuckle. I calmly pull my phone out of my suit pocket.

"Walter, place Mr. Paul Roland's loan application on hold for now. He's earning big bucks for his business. It seems like he doesn't need it anymore."

When I ended the call, the salesperson in front of me had an extremely arrogant look on his face.

"Oh, you're even calling my boss by his name, huh? Quit the freaking act! I'll make it clear right now—until you pay the full amount, it'll be of no use even if you called God himself!"

He pulled out a sales contract he had prepared ahead of time from his folder, outlining the loan and payment terms. Then, he slammed it down hard on the table.

"Here you go. It's written in black and white—a five-year loan and an interest rate of 12%. Sign it, and you'll be able to drive off with the car right away."

I picked the contract up and scanned it briefly. Then, I tapped my finger on the loan repayment schedule on the final page.

The principal was 300 thousand dollars. Over five years, the interest alone added up to 180 thousand dollars—which was over half the principal amount.

"Five years of interest amounts to 180 thousand dollars."

I looked up at him, my voice frosty as I continued, "Your interest rate is almost like a loan shark's."

Upon hearing that, not only did the salesperson remain calm, but he also let out a mocking laugh, crossing his arms.

"Loan shark? What do you even know about the law? This is a proper contract—everything's laid out clearly and agreed to voluntarily. How is this anything like a loan shark's terms? We've been running this car dealership for years. Did you think that we're afraid of you taking us to court?"

He leaned forward slightly and lowered his voice. "Also, guess what? My boss isn't like just any other person in this city. Go ahead and sue us. Sue us all you want! I'd like to see which one of us can afford to drag it out."

He tilted his chin up, giving me a sidelong glance, as if he were certain his victory was guaranteed.

"The contract is right here. Are you going to sign it or not? Hurry up and decide."

All of a sudden, police sirens blared at the entrance. The salesperson's face fell instantly.

"You even called the cops?"

I turned to look out the door, completely ignoring him. A young police officer, Philip Warren, led his team into the showroom, scanning the entire place.

"What's going on? Who called the cops?" he asked.

I watched the salesperson calmly, not rushing to respond to Officer Warren.

He gritted his teeth, then put on an ingratiating look. "I'm sorry to trouble you with coming all the way here, Officer Warren! It's just a minor misunderstanding. This customer wanted to pick up his car, but the paperwork is incomplete. We were in the midst of negotiation—"

Officer Warren raised his hand, putting a stop to the salesperson's attempt to ingratiate himself. In a neutral manner, he asked, "What were you negotiating? Explain things clearly."

"Hear me out." The salesperson pointed at me with a completely helpless expression and said, "This man came and made a reservation for a car before, but he didn't sign a contract at the time to finalize the sale. Yet, he now insists on taking the car. He's putting us in a tight spot as well."

I finally spoke up, my voice calm. "Officer Warren, I paid 300 thousand dollars in cash and signed a contract in black and white.

"Now that the previous salesperson has resigned, this man is refusing to acknowledge the contract and is forcing me to pay more to cover the price difference. Otherwise, I have to sign a new contract for a five-year loan with an interest rate of 12%," I explained, pushing the brand-new contract forward.

Immediately, the salesperson complained, "Please investigate this fairly, Officer Warren! How could we, a well-established company, do such a thing?"

The salesperson continued, "His so-called contract for full payment in cash doesn't exist at all!"

Officer Warren turned to look at me. "You claim there's a contract. Did you bring it with you?"

"I did," I answered.

When I retrieved the car sales contract for full payment in cash from my bag and handed it over, a mocking smirk flashed across the salesperson's face.

Officer Warren took the contract and flipped to the signature section on the very last page. His brows knitted together slowly.

"This document only has your signature. It doesn't have the car dealership's stamp or their salesperson's signature."

My heart sank abruptly as I yanked the contract out of Officer Warren's hands. Like he said, my signature was clearly shown on the first signature line. To my utter shock, the second signature line really was blank!

"This can't be!" I blurted. I could clearly remember the salesperson signing his name when I signed the contract.

Seeing this, the salesperson perked up immediately.

"Do you see it now, Officer Warren? Like I said, we didn't sign anything at all. This contract isn't valid. This man just wants to get something for nothing!

"It's all clearly shown here. What else do you have to say? If you're trying to scam someone, you should at least consider who you're targeting!"

By then, the commotion had drawn the attention of the other customers and staff members in the showroom.

"He looks like a decent person. I can't believe that he did such a thing…"

"People these days are capable of doing anything to cheat others for their own benefit."

"That's right. He must be trying to take advantage of a loophole since the salesperson is different. But look at him now—he got caught red-handed."

The salesperson shrugged at Officer Warren, looking as though he were the victim here.

"Officer, please set the record straight for us. With his actions, isn't he just picking a fight and stirring up trouble? At the very least, he's disrupting our business operations, isn't he?"

Officer Warren asked me sternly, "What's your explanation for this, Mr. Lyons? You insisted that they signed the contract, but there's indeed no signature on the document."

I stared at the glaringly blank space, then caught a glimpse of the salesperson's smug expression. In a split second, a thought flashed across my mind.

Could they have used a pen that contained some kind of disappearing ink?

Meeting the salesperson's gleeful gaze, I tapped the blank space with my finger.

"Alright, even if you didn't sign the contract as you claim, explain this to us. According to standard procedures, there should be a duplicate copy of the contract. Both parties should sign and stamp them on the spot, and each party retains a copy.

"If you didn't sign the contract, would you have given one of the copies to your client just like that?"

Instantly, the smile on the salesperson's expression stiffened.

Officer Warren's gaze turned sharp. Once again, he studied the contract. "Please answer the question."

"That…"

The salesperson's eyes darted frantically, and he hummed and hawed for a few seconds before continuing, "That might have been an oversight at the time—just a slight procedural error. That's right! It was an oversight on the previous salesperson's part!"

Without waiting for him to continue making up his story, I turned toward Officer Warren and said, "Officer, I'd like to request access to the surveillance footage from the meeting room here three days ago."

"You can't!"

The color drained from the salesperson's face instantly. "The surveillance footage contains our company's trade secrets and our clients' private information. How could we show it to an outsider like you just like that?"

After thinking about it for a moment, Officer Warren said, "How about this, then? I'll check the surveillance footage with Mr. Lyons. We'll only check the footage from the day the contract was signed and verify the situation.

"It won't affect your business operations, and we'll be able to get to the bottom of things. This wouldn't violate any rules, right?"

Cold sweat broke out on the salesperson's forehead immediately.

At that moment, a lighthearted voice came from the back of the showroom. "You make a valid point, Officer Warren. Our management fell short, and we apologize for the inconvenience."

Everyone turned toward the source of the voice, only to see a middle-aged man with a flushed face walking briskly toward us.

He first shook Officer Warren's hand in a friendly manner, then nodded at me in greeting, looking as though he were a mediator here.

"I'm Paul Roland, the owner of this car dealership. I just got back to the showroom and heard about this minor incident. I'm really sorry for troubling you, Officer Warren," Paul said in a sincere voice.

He had a pleasant smile on his face. Meanwhile, the salesperson quickly hid behind him, as if he had found his lifeline.

Officer Warren summarized the situation and my request. As Paul listened, he maintained a friendly smile.

"Officer Warren, at the end of the day, this is a civil dispute over a contract between us and Mr. Lyons, right? Strictly speaking, it's not a serious matter that warrants your involvement."

Though he spoke courteously, his meaning was clear—the police had overstepped by intervening here.

Then Paul turned to me, his smile still in place. "Mr. Lyons, it's good for young people to have drive. However, some matters may not be as simple as they appear on the surface. If something as small as purchasing a car ends up stirring unnecessary trouble, you'd stand to lose more than you'd gain, don't you think?"

His polite words concealed a sharp threat. In other words, he was saying that there was someone backing him. If I insisted on making a fuss, I might not be able to get what I wanted.

Officer Warren furrowed his brows and didn't respond immediately.

Meanwhile, Paul beamed at me. "Young man, a smart person should know how to read the room."

I stared at the insincere look on Paul's face, then let out a cold scoff. "Know how to read the room? Indeed, I'm not as adaptable as you are, Mr. Roland."

Just three days ago, this same person had looked like an entirely different person at the bank.

At the time, he pleaded with the account manager, tears streaming down his face. He claimed that his car dealership's cash flow had broken down. His suppliers were demanding payment, and he could barely afford to pay his employees' salaries anymore.

So he begged the bank to approve a loan to save him.

As the president of the bank, I got a clear look at his desperate, pathetic behavior from the second floor. He groveled as much as he could, looking like a completely different person from the calm, composed business owner standing before me now.

Back then, I only instructed my subordinate to approve Paul's loan application because of how sincere he was.

He had expressed his gratitude repeatedly before leaving the bank. Yet, he had no idea that the person who had actually approved his loan was right in front of him now.

Perhaps the expression on my face was too unexpected. Paul furrowed his brows, finally realizing that something was amiss.

It seemed like his mind was racing. The next second, an appeasing smile spread across his face once again.

"Oh, Mr. Lyons, just look at how big of an issue this has become. Maybe it really was an internal communication issue that made you unhappy," he said, pretending to be magnanimous as he pulled out five 100-dollar bills from the inner pocket of his blazer.

"Here, take these 500 dollars as my personal compensation for your travel expenses and the inconvenience. Let's just consider this incident a misunderstanding and move past it. What do you think?"

His tone was relaxed, as if he were dismissing a trivial matter.

I sneered. "500 dollars? Do you think you're waving off a beggar, Mr. Roland?"

Officer Warren, who was standing by the side, took a step forward. "Mr. Lyons, since the evidence isn't in your favor, perhaps you should agree to a settlement for now. Disputes over car purchase deals are considered a civil matter. You may take legal action, and I will also record today's incident accurately."

I gave Officer Warren a quick glance. Not only was this young officer indeed going by the books, but he was also taking my position into consideration.

Out of respect for him, I nodded, willing to take a step back for now. "Alright, Officer Warren. Since you've said so—"

Noticing me soften my stance, Paul no longer felt as apprehensive as before. "Yes, this is more like it. Harmony brings wealth! Though…"

He shot a look to a salesperson.

"Words mean nothing, Mr. Lyons. So please sign a written statement guaranteeing this matter ends here. After this, you will never make any claims against my dealership in any form."