Chapter 272: Repaying the Debt (3)

Richard let out a heavy, dramatic sigh to buy more time. "Fine. I will manually recalculate the ledger myself right now."

"There is no need to waste time doing that," Solomon said.

He reached into the wreckage of the desk, grabbed Richard’s undamaged laptop, and rapidly typed a complex command sequence into the financial software. He spun the screen around, shoving the digital readout directly into Richard’s face, displaying the exact, corrected amortization schedule.

"I am sure that since you are the head of this department, you at least know how basic math works," Solomon stated. "You can verify the final numbers right there."

Richard stared at the screen. He intentionally checked every single line of code incredibly slowly, dragging the process out to waste as much time as possible. Finally, he nodded.

"You are right," Richard admitted, closing the laptop. "We are the ones who need to refund your family. We will issue a check for the overpaid three hundred thousand dollars."

Solomon scoffed loudly. "The amount you owe us is not three hundred thousand. It is two million."

Richard blinked, genuinely baffled. "What are you talking about? It is roughly three hundred thousand dollars based on your own calculation on this screen."

"Three hundred thousand is the base amount of the overpayment," Solomon corrected smoothly. "But you will also need to pay us the compounded interest on that three hundred thousand for the time you held it, which brings the base refund to exactly five hundred thousand."

Richard closed his eyes, let out a long breath, and accepted the logic simply to keep the boy talking. "Fine. Five hundred thousand. What about the rest of the amount?"

"I am getting to that," Solomon said, ticking the items off on his fingers. "Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars for the physical damages Marcus caused at the diner this morning."

Marcus immediately stepped away from the window. "I only broke the front glass door!"

"That glass door costs two hundred and fifty thousand dollars," Solomon stated blankly.

"There is absolutely no way a single glass door costs that much!" Marcus shouted, his face turning red.

"If I say it costs two hundred and fifty thousand, then it costs two hundred and fifty thousand," Solomon replied coldly. He turned to Richard. "Tell your subordinate to shut up and teach him some basic manners. Kids should not speak when the adults are talking."

Marcus was fuming. The teenager had just thrown his exact own taunt from the diner right back into his face. He gripped the hilt of his hidden dagger, waiting for Richard’s signal.

"What about the rest?" Richard asked, his patience wearing dangerously thin.

"Two hundred thousand for the physical and emotional trauma that your men inflicted upon the employee you assaulted," Solomon continued. "And fifty thousand to be distributed among the rest of the diner staff, as they also felt severely threatened by your presence."

Solomon paused, leveling a freezing glare at the department head. "Nine hundred and ninety-nine thousand, nine hundred and ninety-nine dollars for making my father sad."

He held up his last finger. "And one buck for making me angry."

Richard stared at the boy, completely dumbfounded. "What?" he asked, genuinely thinking he had misheard the final demand.

"My anger is quite cheap, actually," Solomon explained, offering a terrifyingly calm smile. "Because I get angry over incredibly small things, and I am very easily provoked."

Richard slammed his hands onto the ruined desk. "You are just throwing a nonsensical, childish tantrum right now. You are misbehaving and making completely absurd demands. I have been sitting here calmly entertaining your complaints, but you just keep behaving like an uneducated barbarian."

Solomon tilted his head, his silver eyes flashing. "Are you intentionally trying to test if I can actually be provoked as easily as I just claimed?"

’Just one more minute! Sixty seconds more and I will have this piece of shit begging for mercy on the floor and licking my shoes!’

Richard stood up from his chair, his corporate facade finally breaking into open anger. "What you are doing right now is extortion, and it is highly illegal! I will call the local authorities right now and have you arrested for property damage and threatening a licensed business! I have been polite because I didn’t want to harm a kid, but if you don’t stop, I will have no choice but to take action against you."

"I am glad you brought up the topic of legality and involving the authorities," Solomon replied smoothly, remaining seated on the edge of the broken desk. "Because I am sure the cops would be very curious about what is happening inside this building."

Richard forced a scoff. "What are you talking about? This is a legally registered financial institution."

Solomon leaned forward. "What about the basement? What is happening down there?"

The color instantly drained from Richard and Marcus’s faces. They turned completely pale, staring at the teenager in sheer horror.

"How do you think I got up to this executive floor?" Solomon asked, observing their panicked reactions.

"By taking the main elevator, what else?" Richard stammered defensively.

Solomon shook his head. "If I had taken the main lobby elevator, I would have had to fight every single guard on this floor, and the enforcers on the lower levels would have immediately triggered the alarms. Instead, I went straight down to the basement first. I took the private executive lift directly from the underground cells up to this floor, so I only had to deal with the few pricks stationed outside your door."

"That is impossible!" Richard shouted, his voice cracking. "No unauthorized personnel can enter the basement! Only a select few executives in this entire company even know about the existence of those sub-levels! You need a highly encrypted, biometric ID scan just to call that specific elevator!"

Solomon reached into his hoodie pocket, pulled out a sleek, black keycard, and tossed it onto the ruined desk. "Is this the ID card you are talking about?"