"Mr. Fitzroy, you're incredible! You’re driving a car worth millions of dollars at such a young age. You're truly an inspiration to us all."
"Exactly! It's an honor of a lifetime to have a classmate like Mr. Fitzroy."
"Griffin, hurry up and kneel to apologize to Mr. Fitzroy. A thousand dollars is already more than your annual salary!".
The lackeys grew more and more excited, while Malcolm became increasingly smug amidst their flattery.
He basked in the feeling of being the center of attention, not forgetting to mock me in the process.
"Griffin, why are you so quiet now? Weren't you acting all tough just a moment ago? Cat got your tongue?"
As he spoke, he raised his hand and pointed out the window.
"Believe it or not, if you don’t kneel and apologize to me today, I’ll smash your car."
My fists clenched involuntarily. Slowly, I let three words slip from my mouth:
"Go ahead, try."
"I don’t believe you!"
Malcolm hadn’t expected me to hold my ground like this and his expression grew increasingly twisted. After a moment of thought, he waved his hand dramatically.
"Everyone, follow me. Today, I’ll show the whole group how I turn his car into scrap metal!"
The sycophants, eager for more drama, immediately chimed in loudly. "Mr. Fitzroy, you're the man!"
Malcolm led the group outside, his chest puffed out with arrogance. Once everyone had gathered, he quietly lit a cigarette, then pointed at the Phantom car in front of us and shouted, "Smash it!"
At his command, his bodyguards rushed forward in unison.
After a chaotic clatter of banging, one of the bodyguards hurried over to Malcolm, looking flustered.
"Mr. Fitzroy, we’ve been hitting it for a while, but this car… it won’t even dent!"
Malcolm paused briefly before grabbing the iron rod from the bodyguard and storming toward the car with resolve.
Once. Twice. Three times.
He swung the rod with all his might, delivering dozens of heavy blows. Yet, apart from a few chips in the paint, the car remained unscathed.
As Malcolm continued his futile effort, my phone began to buzz incessantly in my pocket. Unable to ignore it any longer, I discreetly answered the call.
"Hello? Yeah, something came up. I won’t be able to make it back right away. Can you inform everyone to move the meeting to Langston Grand Hotel instead? Yes, that’s right. The one owned by the Fitzroy Group. Bring the whole team here."