"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."

"Mr. Roland, your request is going too far, don't you think?" Officer Warren asked, his expression darkening immediately.

Nevertheless, Paul waved him off nonchalantly. "Officer Warren, it's completely voluntary. If Mr. Lyons has a clear conscience, what's wrong with him giving a written statement?"

The salesperson quickly grabbed a piece of paper and a pen from the reception desk and handed them to me.

But I didn't accept them. Instead, I scanned the reception desk and finally picked up an ordinary pen belonging to the dealership.

I remembered they had used this pen when we signed the contract.

"I'll just use this pen."

Reaching out, I wrote a statement on the paper and signed my name.

I handed the written statement to Paul, my lips curling into a smirk as I said, "Hold onto it well."

Carefully, Paul tucked it into his pocket and pushed the 500 dollars toward me.

"Here's your money. Have a safe journey, Mr. Lyons."

The stares of the onlookers around me bore into my back.

"He did all that just to extort 500 dollars?"

"His act was so convincing. I actually thought he was some big shot. But in the end, that's all?"

"People these days can be so shameless when it comes to getting their hands on money…"

Though the chatter wasn't loud, every word was clear.

I ignored their voices and simply turned to Officer Warren calmly. "Sorry for troubling you and making you come all the way here, Officer Warren."

Officer Warren studied me briefly, then glanced at the smug-looking Paul and the salesperson.

In the end, he nodded. "Since both of you have reached an agreement, I'll make a move now. Should any further issues arise in the future, please resolve them legally."

We watched the police officers drive off in their cars. As soon as they were gone, the salesperson revealed his true colors.

"Hey, what are you still doing here? Is 500 dollars still too little? Were you waiting for the cops to leave so you can extort more from us? You're dressed decently enough, but it turns out you're just a broke loser. Take your money and get lost this instant!"

Paul, too, returned to his arrogant self from before. He sipped his tea casually, not even bothering to look up.

Just then, the glass door to the showroom flung open with a loud bang. Five or six burly men barged in, led by a bald man with a scar on his face and a vicious look in his eyes.

The customers and salespeople who had been watching the commotion immediately fell silent and instinctively took a few steps back.

"Mr. Roland, where's our money?" the bald man with a scar questioned, his voice booming.

"We didn't give you three days so that you could sip your tea and act like a boss over here! I'll tear this dealership of yours down if you don't settle your debt today!"

Paul turned as white as a sheet in an instant. Frantically, he got to his feet. "What made you come here in person, Larry? Didn't we agree you'd wait two more days?

"I've applied for a loan of eight million dollars from Redward Bank. I'm just waiting for their bank president to sign off on it and release the funds. The second I get the money, I'll pay back everything, interest and all!"

"Redward Bank?"

Larry jeered. "Who are you kidding? How could someone like you know anyone at Redward's main branch? And eight million dollars, you say? Do you think that your father's the president of the bank?"

The burly men behind Larry roared with excitement, their sinister gazes sweeping over the luxury cars in the showroom.

"It's true! I'm not lying!" Paul pulled his phone out clumsily. "I'll call Mr. Boone right now. The account manager told me yesterday that Mr. Boone would sign the papers today. I'll call him right now!"

His fingers shook as he swiped across his phone screen and tapped on the "call" button desperately.

At the same time, a familiar ringtone sounded in my pocket…