Brandon's curiosity was piqued as he checked the time, noticing it was almost nine in the evening. That seemed odd - it was well past working hours, so why was the office suddenly lit up?
The memory of the Property Management Office staff showing up at his door with Liam Collins flashed in his mind, setting off alarm bells. He had filed a complaint about the old meters overcharging fees, yet within just an hour, the Collins was introduced as the new supplier. How had the Office managed to persuade Collins to take up the role so quickly? Unless they had the Collins as a backup plan all along, or perhaps the Collins had willingly approached the Office themselves.
Either way, it was clear that Collins and the Property Management Office were collaborating on something.
Without further hesitation, Brandon left his villa and swiftly, quietly made his way to the Office's territory. The illuminated room, a wing house adjacent to the center, caught his attention. With his exceptional eyesight, Brandon peered through the blurry window and discerned two silhouettes standing opposite each other near a dim lamp.
As he moved closer, he noticed that the figure on the left wore the Office's uniform, indicating he was an employee. However, Brandon couldn't place the face, as this person had not been among those who had visited his door earlier. To his astonishment, the other figure wasn't Liam Collins, but Joe Sullivan.
Brandon furrowed his brow deeply. Retrieving a coin-sized button, he placed it beneath the window eaves and clicked his wristband. This enabled him to hear everything being said inside the room.
"So, you're saying I'm mistaken?" Joe queried.
"You are, Mr. Sullivan," the man replied, his tone dripping with disdain. "But it's understandable. Most people are mistaken about this, believing it was Arlington who brought in the Collins. But the true hero has always been me."
Arlington? The surname sparked recognition in Brandon's mind. Then it dawned on him - there was an Arlington who served as the chief for the school canteen. How could he be involved in this?
"Arlington may be older and more experienced, or perhaps remembered for his silver tongue, but he lacks the courage and ability to do anything significant!" the man continued. "He only rose to Senior Director for the Office here because of his elder brother, who manages the canteen for the Myles on campus, providing him with resources. But the two Arlingtons are different. The elder one is dull in speech but cunning in action, while the younger one is the opposite. So when his elder brother offers him 'rare and nice' opportunities, he never accepts."
"So, you stepped in? Installing overpriced meters and scamming the residents?" Joe snapped, his tone laced with anger.
"Yeah..." the man sneered.
"Firing you is completely justified!" Joe snapped back.
"Stupid Arlington, that's all he has the guts for!" the man cursed, but then regained his smirk. "But it's okay, because I got the Collins to take over, and I'm still the one reaping the benefits."
"Then why did Arlington agree to it?" Joe questioned.
"Who would dare defy the Myles?" the man explained, his arms half-raised. "If that Heir of the Myles hadn't pressured Arlington so much, I wouldn't have had the opportunity. So in a way, I should thank the Heir for helping me make money."
Joe fell silent for a moment, then let out a helpless sigh, "So, the Collins' meters have the same issues as the old ones, don't they?"
"Why wouldn't they?" the man laughed. "And worse."
There was no more sound from Joe, leaving Brandon to wonder what was happening. He inched closer, hoping to get a clearer picture of the situation. As he did, he was taken aback.
Contrary to what he had imagined, Joe wasn't negotiating. Isntead, he was cornered and trapped, tightly bound to a rocking chair. The man was holding a sharp blade pointed at Joe's left leg.
In a moment of realization, Brandon understood why Joe was there—he must have come to investigate the Collins' meters on his own but got caught by this slick individual. "How clumsy!" Brandon thought to himself.
However, amidst his critique, he couldn't help but acknowledge Joe's composure. Even under such threat, Joe remained calm and just, interrogating the criminal to gather evidence. "He must have turned on some recording device," Brandon speculated, "or else all of this would be in vain."
"You're a greedy fool!" Joe scolded. "How much do you think you can profit from this? And how long do you think you can keep this dark secret hidden?"
"Call me whatever you want," the man replied, seemingly relaxed. "You're the only one who knows now, and all I need to do is deal with you."
Joe couldn't shake the feeling that this man was unhinged. If he feared upsetting the Myles, why wouldn't he fear the Sullivans? Unless...
"I've dealt with many minor figures like you, and I know exactly what people like you want," the man said this with playful confidence, almost as if he were a top-tier mind reader. "You want money, like me. So, how about we overlook what happened today and work together?"
Joe had to stifle a laugh at this. His guess had been right—this man had no idea who he was!
As Brandon listened from outside the window, he once again acknowledged that Joe had made the right decision by not revealing his true identity. Otherwise, the unstable man wouldn't have divulged so much valuable information that could be used as evidence.
Brandon could intervene and rescue Joe at this moment. But he hoped Joe would continue to play along, delving deeper into the questions that intrigued them both.
"You're correct," Joe replied after a deep breath. "Who doesn't desire wealth and profits? I also seek a sustainable and abundant source of income."
The man's eyes sparkled with excitement, and Joe continued, "But how can I be certain that the Collins are a reliable source?"
The man regarded Joe with disdain, but Joe remained unfazed by the condescending stare, intent on extracting an answer.
"Haha!" the man mocked. "Naive and foolish, as expected of university students. Haven't you heard of the Collins? They're one of the most successful enterprises in the nation."
"Now you've enlightened me," Joe replied, his lips curling into a smirk. "But I still expect to see something concrete, like their financial report or qualifications as a supplier."
The man's expression soured upon hearing this. "You think you're a professional, don't you? Asking for all these 'certificates' and 'qualifications'."
"That's what we learn in school as university students," Joe retorted.
After a chilling moment of silence, the man's face broke into the widest grin of the day, revealing two rows of stained teeth. "Cautious, you are. Just like me!" he praised, as he went to a locked drawer, retrieved a key, and unlocked it. From within, he pulled out a rolled paper from the far end.
The wrapping paper was adorned with illustrations that looked as though they were drawn by unskilled children.
As the man carefully unfolded the roll, Joe couldn't help but inquire, "Who painted this?" nodding toward the pictures.
Unexpectedly, the man's tone softened as he replied, "My daughter."
"How old is she?" Joe pressed on.
"Ten," came the reply.
"Where is she now?"
The man didn't answer but shot Joe a fierce look as he lifted his head slightly. "None of your business."
Joe ceased his questioning as the man presented two full pages of paper for him to read. One page was filled with items, numbers, and symbols, resembling a financial statement, while the other displayed credentials meant to serve as qualifications.
But after just one short glance, Joe could tell that neither of them was authentic. He had seen too many authorized documents to make a mistake in distinguishing such.
However, suspicion lingered in Joe's mind—did this man know they were fake, or was he unaware himself?
A short while later, the man retrieved the two files and began to roll them back into the wrapping paper painted by his daughter. Seeing his chance, Joe took a closer, more careful look at the picture.
In the illustration, a father and daughter were depicted in cartoon form, standing beneath a large tree. The daughter held a heart-shaped balloon, but written on the balloon in a very straightforward manner were four words: "I don't like dad."
"What does the phrase say?" Joe pretended to be confused.
The man's smile softened noticeably as he replied, "It says, 'I do like dad.'"
A sudden realization stabbed Joe, confirming his suspicion—this man was illiterate, unable to read even such simple characters, let alone complicated documents from the Collins.
They must have chosen him as their accomplice precisely because he couldn't read and had a soft spot for his daughter. In an even worse scenario, as Joe had speculated, this man was likely trying to prove himself as a supportive father by obtaining money, thus agreeing to such unethical actions.
"You know what? Those documents are fake," Joe blurted out.
The man's rolling movement ceased, his expression turning more ominous and intense.
"You can't read, and you've been deceived," Joe added, though he wasn't sure if this impulsive move would provoke any danger. But in that moment, he didn't care. These documents were the best evidence to challenge the Collins in the business circle, and he also needed this man's assistance to testify.
Apparently, that was also what Brandon wanted.
"What did you just say, boy?" the man questioned, his grip on the blade tightening, seemingly poised to strike at any moment.