To raise funds for earthquake victims, I shed my business suit and put on a simple vest, choosing to live-stream while offering a designated driver service.

At 3:00 am, I take on my final job for the day—and end up running into Owen Kramer, a former high school classmate.

Reeking of alcohol, he tosses the money for my service onto the ground and spits on it before telling me to pick it up.

"You were the top of our class, weren't you? Why have you been reduced to working as a gig driver, huh? You need money, right? Go on, then. Pick it up. That 50 is yours."

Unbeknownst to him, his nasty behavior is being live-streamed online for everyone to see.

Also, I just so happen to be the CEO he's been trying to cozy up to.

When I was a kid, I was caught in an earthquake. Someone saved my life by pulling me out of the rubble. Therefore, the moment I heard that my hometown had been hit with another earthquake, I immediately logged into my account and started a live stream.

After clipping a tiny camera to an inconspicuous spot—one of my shirt buttons—I went into the phone app that offered designated driver services and started accepting jobs.

It wasn't long before many people started tuning into my live stream.

"It must be nice to be rich. Even when you're just live-streaming your day as a gig driver, someone still gives you hundreds of dollars."

"Are you new here? I guess you don't know that this live streamer is a business owner himself. He's already donated 100 million dollars to help the earthquake victims. He'll also donate all the money he gets during this live stream."

The day went pretty smoothly. I got plenty of jobs, and quite a lot of the viewers donated as well.

At 3:00 am, I decided to take one last job before heading home for some rest. Unexpectedly, I ended up running into Owen Kramer, a former high school classmate of mine.

Eyes half-lidded, he tossed the keys for a Mercedes at me and said, "Have you ever driven a car as nice as this? You'd better not wreck my car."

With that, he plopped his butt onto the passenger seat.

A bunch of viewers commented on his behavior.

"What the heck? An old Mercedes model like his is only worth 20 to 30 grand at most. It's not even a luxury car. Why is he acting like he doesn't know what real luxury is?"

"He looks like a try-hard to me."

From the looks of it, Owen didn't recognize me. I kept my temper in check. Figuring it wasn't worth the hassle, I just stayed quiet and stored my folding e-bike in the trunk.

During the ride, Owen kicked off his shoes and propped his seat onto the dashboard. The stench wafted over at once.

"That's very dangerous, sir. Please put your feet back down."

My kind reminder netted me a barrage of curses.

"You're just the driver, so shut up and drive. I can do whatever the hell I want in my own car!"

The smell was too much for me, so I brought down my window.

"Bring up that window now! Are you trying to freeze me to death?" Owen snapped.

I had no choice but to hold my breath as best I could.

Along the way, Owen took several calls, and I heard it all. One minute, he was crooning with someone he called "babe". In the next, he bragged about being best buddies with the CEO of Lewis Group. And finally, he told his "sweetheart" he'd come over tomorrow night.

One particular detail made me raise my brow. As it turned out, I was the CEO of Lewis Group. When did Owen and I become best buddies?

Soon enough, we arrived at his destination—Diamond Club, the most extravagant high-end club in the city. I parked the car and handed him the keys.

"That will be 52.60 dollars in total, sir. According to the app, you'd be paying by cash, right?"

Owen cracked open his beady eyes and glanced at me before getting out of the car.

He dug into his leather bag, pulled out his wallet, and threw a 50-dollar bill right at my face. "Your driving sucks. There's your 50 bucks."

He turned to leave, but I grabbed his arm.

"Sir, I'm afraid you heard wrongly. The full amount is 52.60 dollars. Please pick up the 50-dollar bill off the ground as well," I said pleasantly while quelling my fury.

However, Owen simply continued to cross the line even more. He threw my hand off and smacked me twice on the face, retorting imperiously, "You just need the money, don't you? Well, I gave it to you. Pick it up yourself.

"Broke ass suckers like you are greedy as hell. Look at you, trying to demand respect from me even after I've given you the money… Wait a minute. You're Alex Lewis, aren't you?"

Now that Owen was face-to-face with me, he suddenly recognized me, and he became even cockier.

"Well, well. You were the top of our class, weren't you? I thought you were supposed to be such a genius. How did you end up like this?

"I can't believe you're just a gig driver now. I wonder how shocked our old classmates would be once they heard about this." He laughed as he spoke.

He grabbed his phone and pointed the camera at me. "Hey, don't hide your face. There's nothing shameful about being a gig driver."

"What the heck is wrong with this guy? Why does he keep acting like the streamer's a beggar? How rich is he anyway?"

"I can't even stand looking at him. He's recording the streamer, too! He doesn't even realize that his own ugly behavior is being live-streamed, and he thinks he's the one 'exposing' someone else. Hah!"

The viewers in the stream were indignant on my behalf.

Meanwhile, Owen was completely unaware this was happening.

He had no idea. Seeing me avoid his camera, he reached out and grabbed me by the shoulders, pulling me in like we were buddies.

"Come on, then! Say hi to your old classmate. You transferred schools without a word back then. What was up with that, huh? Were you too embarrassed to tell me you dropped out of school to be a trash collector?

"I always knew you were just poor trash, Alex, but everyone else didn't believe me."

I don't like being touched, so I pushed him off without making it too obvious.

Owen was already unsteady on his feet from all his drinking. Just the slight shove made him fall flat on his butt.

Humiliated, he flew into a rage. He scrambled back onto his feet and jabbed a finger at me, snarling, "You should be honored I even called you an old classmate of mine! How dare you push me? Who the hell do you think you are?"

He raised his arm high to throw a punch at me, but a drunk like him was a piece of cake to deal with. I caught his hand easily and shoved him down again.

This time, his face landed right next to the 50-dollar bill he'd thrown at me earlier.

"It's been a while, Owen. Even if I'm just a gig driver now, that's not a reason for you to push me around—or to stiff me on the payment.

"If you'd spoken nicely, I might've waived the fee altogether for old times' sake. But you kept talking to me like I'm some kind of beggar, so you're going to have to cough up every single cent you owe me. Or else…"

Having climbed back onto his feet again, Owen sneered and laughed. "Or else what? What can a gig driver like you do, huh? You're going to call your deliverymen buddies to come and sue me?

"Sure, I'm loaded, but I'm not giving you any more money! What can you do about it, huh?"

The taunting look on his face stirred up a wave of anger in me.

Back when we were in high school, Owen had never liked me. Even though he was the richest guy in class, most of our classmates preferred hanging out with me instead because I had good grades and got along well with them.

That was one of the reasons why he hated me. He saw it as a threat to his status.

But I never thought he'd still be so hung up on it after all these years.

"I'm going to prove it to you right now, Alex—this isn't school anymore. Out in the real world, grades are the most useless thing ever. Only money and connections matter, and a broke gig driver like you shouldn't even think about trying to challenge me!"

Owen made a call, and the security guards at the entrance of Diamond Club began making their way over with bats in hand.

"We have laws in today's society. Is he seriously going to get those guards to beat the streamer up?"

"You know what? I think that's exactly what he plans to do. Quick. We need to record the stream so the streamer can use it as evidence later."

Scoffing, Owen declared, "It's not too late for you to apologize, Alex."

I decided to stop hiding the imposing bearing I'd developed from being in a high position for many years now. Sneering back at him, I remarked, "Oh? There are laws in this country, you know. Go ahead. Let's see what happens if you lay a finger on me."

For a moment, Owen seemed shaken by my demeanor, even stuttering a little. But once he saw the approaching guards, he regained his bravado and retorted, "So what if I hit you?"

"There are thousands of ways I can make life miserable for someone like you. Believe it or not, but a single call from me is enough to guarantee that you'll never find another job in your life!"

By then, the security guards had reached us.

Owen pointed at the money on the ground. "See that 50-dollar bill? I only gave it to you out of consideration for us being old classmates. If you keep bothering me, then you can't blame me for what happens next."

He proceeded to spit on the bill before adding, "Pick it up. It's yours."

Shaking with rage, I was about to march right up and teach him a lesson, but the security guards held me back.

Owen pointed his phone at me again. "Hurry up and pick it up. Haven't you been hounding me for money this whole time?"

He was about to say more when his phone rang. He immediately switched to a sycophantic tone, nodding politely as he declared he'd be right there.

Before leaving, he didn't forget to instruct the security guards. "Be sure to record him in his pathetic state later and send everything to me."

More comments flooded the live stream.

"Damn it! Is the streamer about to get beaten up? There are so many of them. Should we call the police?"

"Will the police even take it seriously? What if we get in trouble because they say it's a false report?"

"But I seriously can't stand how arrogant that man is. He just wouldn't stop insulting the streamer for being poor and broke."

"Don't take it seriously, man. It's obvious this is all scripted."

Meanwhile, the guards started surrounding me.

I easily dealt with the security guards with a few quick moves.

"What the heck? Is the streamer really a businessman? He seems more like an expert fighter to me. I didn't even get to see what he did. How did he manage to knock them all down already?"

"I thought he'd be useless in a fight, but it turns out he's basically a champ at it!"

"I think I'm in love. Wouldn't it be great to have kids with a man as strong as him? Our son would be a world-class fighter!"

Thanks to the cutting-edge technology built into the smart glasses I wore, I could see the live stream comments.

I said in a low voice, "Don't worry. I'll get back the money I earned, and I'll make him pay for scorning the poor like that."

Someone in the chat questioned whether I was rich, too, and whether I'd really take their side.

"Practically every person in existence descended from a family of farmers. Money isn't the standard for judging a person's character," I replied before striding into the club.

Aside from the security guards I'd knocked down, no one else knew about my conflict with Owen, so I got in easily.

I found him on the third floor. He was clutching his leather bag while chatting animatedly with a few people. He visibly stiffened when he spotted me approaching him.

I didn't give him time to react. Grabbing him by the collar, I growled, "You still owe me for my service. Pay up! The 50-dollar bill you spat on is still out on the ground. I didn't take it."

Owen was outraged, but he couldn't break free no matter how he struggled. "Are you guys all dead? Get him off me now!"

A group of staff hurried over and started trying to pull me away.

"Get your hands off me!" I snapped at them before releasing Owen and backing away myself.

Just as Owen and I were facing off, a woman suddenly walked over and exclaimed, "Alex Lewis? What are you doing here?"

I turned around and saw Cindy Simmons. She'd sat next to me in high school and was the most beautiful girl in class.

There was another major reason why Owen had it out for me back then—he'd tried wooing Cindy before, but she asked me out in front of everyone.

Back then, after inadvertently discovering that she came from an impoverished family background, I provided her with financial support for three years, ensuring that she could finish high school without any problems.

Even though I'd rejected her when she asked me out, it still made Owen hold a grudge against me. He'd picked on me ever since.

Cindy took in my plain get-up before glancing at Owen's slicked-back hair, the signature look of a typical businessman. After hesitating for a moment, she chose to move over to Owen.

"What are you doing, Alex?" she asked.

I patiently explained the situation to her, thinking she'd be reasonable.

"Don't waste your breath on Alex, Cindy. He's just a broke ass asking for money."

Owen eyed me tauntingly as he pulled out a stack of 100-dollar bills from his pocket.

"Sure, I've got the money, Alex, but there's no way in hell I'm giving any of it to you." He tucked the bills down Cindy's neckline before smirking at me. "I'd rather give the money to a bitch like Cindy than you."

Cindy didn't seem to care that she'd been insulted. There was only excitement in her eyes as she grabbed the money.

The comment section exploded. No one expected someone driving a fairly inexpensive Mercedes to be this cocky.

"You should reveal your identity to him at once! Scare the life out of him!"

"That's right! Didn't that dude claim to be best buddies with Mr. Lewis, the CEO? Well, Mr. Lewis is standing right in front of him now, but he doesn't even recognize him."

"I love it when people hide their true strength before giving their enemy a rude slap in the face. Get him!"

"Don't forget about that gold digger. Look at the way she's dressed. I bet she's no saint either. Don't go easy on her!"

The comments were racing past, and many people started sending me donations.

I looked around the place. Everyone was watching me as if I were some kind of spectacle.

With a steady gaze, I eyed Owen and repeated myself. "All I want is to receive the payment I deserve for the service I provided. Are you sure you're not going to give me the remaining 2.60 dollars you owe me?"

Snorting, Owen retorted, "Like hell I will. What can you do about it, huh?"

Without wasting any more of my breath on him, I pulled my phone out and called the police. "Hi. I'd like to make a police report. I suspect Diamond Club is involved in prostitution."