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 eggs and spoiled vegetables.

I struggled to get up, holding onto the wall, and slowly made my way back to the small apartment my father had left behind.

Then I found the first-aid kit and treated my wounds. Sitting on the couch, I stared at my dad's photo and smoked a cigarette. I cried the entire night.

By morning, I held his photo and wailed, "Dad, I'm sorry. I'm unable to keep the house anymore."

With that, I grabbed the key to open the safe, intending to take the property deed to sell the house.

To my surprise, I found not only the property deed inside but also a will and a check for 260 million dollars.

It turned out my dad had won the lottery but kept it a secret because he was afraid I would squander it all.

He had placed the money in the safe along with the property deed, setting it aside in case I ever needed it to get through hard times.

I held the check in my hands, crying harder than ever in front of his photo.

With the 260 million dollars, I easily paid off the fine and compensation. I then hired the best contractors and designers in the city.

I told the construction manager, "In a week, I want this restaurant knocked down and turned into the highest-end five-star restaurant in the city. The cost of building it is no concern of mine!"

With the funds to back me up, the restaurant was built quickly.

As I gazed at the luxurious place that resembled a palace, a flood of mixed emotions washed over me.

Opening day arrived, coinciding with the workers' return to the site.

At lunchtime, Yves strutted over, surrounded by a crowd of workers. As he walked toward me, he boasted, "The shutdown and fines must have taught him a lesson. He won't dare serve us those rotten scraps again! Don't worry. With me here, your food safety is guaranteed!"

He turned, only to freeze when he saw the new luxury restaurant.

"Mr. Leeds got smart, huh? This is some serious upgrade after the shutdown!"

The workers, seeing the restaurant's array of expensive dishes, began drooling.

Just as they rushed in, each holding ten dollars, I stepped forward and blocked their way.

"This is a high-end, custom private dining experience. The minimum charge is four thousand dollars per table."