Chapter 74: Chapter 74: Panic Selling
The Landlord trembled, holding the phone in his greasy hand, not daring to look away from the man covered in blood who was writhing on the floor with his arm in an impossible position, and the other Guard who was faintly coughing at the bottom of the stairs, his chest visibly sunken. He didn’t know if they were alive or dead.
"Call," Ethan demanded, his voice a low, dangerous hiss. "And after you call your lawyer, call the other thugs. Tell them to get into my apartment NOW and put my things back, piece by piece. And to do it with extreme care."
The Landlord obeyed. He dialed first, his voice shaking as he urgently explained to his lawyer that he was selling the property immediately, at whatever price "Mr. Blake" dictated.
Then, he called his foreman, the one leading the other men emptying other apartments on the lower floors.
"Listen to me, you bastard! You and every man you have! Get up to the third floor NOW! Put everything you took out of apartment 3B back in! And if one single pin is scratched, it’s your skull I’m going to smash! Move it! Now!" The landlord shouts into the phone.
He ended the call, his face slick with fear.
A few minutes later, four other men—as burly and tattooed as the first two, though lacking that arrogant air—appeared at the stairwell. They stopped dead at the sight of the bloodbath. They saw their broken comrade against the wall and the other one moaning downstairs. The stench of fear and iron filled the hallway.
One of the newcomers, who seemed to be the leader, approached the Landlord. "What the hell happened here?"
"He happened! Mr. Blake happened!" the Landlord said, practically sobbing. "Now get into that damn apartment and start putting all his things back! FAST!"
The leader looked at Ethan, then at Jason, and the absolute coldness in Jason’s eyes was enough. The muscular thug didn’t utter another word. He addressed his men. "Move your asses! Everything goes back! And put down rugs! NO ONE BREAKS ANYTHING ELSE!"
The four men, who minutes before had been laughing while throwing out tenants’ belongings, now moved with a military delicacy and precision to return every book, every box, and every garment of Ethan’s to his shattered apartment. The haste was palpable, driven by the terror of ending up like their two comrades.
While the thugs worked feverishly, Ethan watched the Landlord and his lawyer, who was already on the way. The Landlord tried to speak, but Ethan cut him off with a look.
"Don’t talk. Just wait for your lawyer. I want the title transfer signed in one hour," Ethan declared, feeling a deep, dark satisfaction. The humiliation he had suffered in this place for years was being erased, not with pleas, but with fear and capital.
[Oh, yes, Champion! This is much better than a college curriculum! Blood and money always work!] The System celebrated with a financial demon’s glee.
The four hired hands finished the arduous task of putting every single item back into apartment 3B, moving boxes with a delicacy they usually reserved for handling explosives. They were drenched in sweat, completely silent, and avoided eye contact with Ethan and the paralyzed Landlord.
When the last box was placed inside the apartment, the foreman stammered, "E-está listo, señor Blake. Todo está dentro."
Ethan walked to the doorway and glanced inside. The apartment looked exactly as it had when he left, only cleaner, thanks to the involuntary cleaning crew. He stepped back out, his eyes sweeping over the four exhausted men.
"Good," Ethan said, his voice cold. "Now get out. All of you. And I don’t want to see any of your faces here again. Next time, you won’t leave with just broken bones."
The four men didn’t wait for a second invitation. They practically fled the building, ignoring their two injured comrades, their allegiance instantly shifting from the Landlord to the overwhelming terror of Jason.
The Landlord, meanwhile, was sweating profusely, holding the phone away from his ear while he waited for his lawyer. Finally, a sharp-looking man in an expensive suit—Mr. Davies—arrived, panting slightly as he climbed the stairs.
"Mr. Henderson, what’s going on? You called me and demanded I draw up a full property transfer agreement..." Mr. Davies arrived, wiping his forehead. He stopped, observing the blood, the terrified owner, and the immaculate figure of Ethan Blake.
"Davies, you have to get me out of here! This man is crazy! He wants the whole building!" shouted the landlord, complaining.
Ethan ignored the Landlord. He addressed the lawyer directly. "Mr. Davies. I am Ethan Blake. Your client has violated a settlement agreement and destroyed my property. To resolve this instantly, I am purchasing this entire building, right now."
"Mr. Blake, I understand there’s a dispute, but selling property requires time, due diligence, inspection..." said Mr. Davies, composing himself.
"I don’t need due diligence," Ethan stated, his voice laced with venom. "This building, at best, is assessed at two million dollars. Given the structural neglect, the fire code violations, and your complete lack of maintenance, its actual value should be closer to three hundred thousand." Ethan looked the Landlord dead in the eye, savoring the shock. "I will give you three million dollars—wired instantly—for the entire property. The only condition is that the title and all related tenant leases are transferred to my name, Ethan Blake, within the next three hours. I want you to take the money and get the hell out of my sight."
The Landlord’s face, which had been pale with terror, flushed a deep red with fury. "Three million?! You said ten times what it’s worth! I thought—" He stammered, realizing he wouldn’t be getting the astronomical $20 million he’d briefly savored.
Ethan ignored the outburst and addressed the lawyer directly, his gaze icy. "Mr. Davies. My terms are non-negotiable. If you waste my time with paperwork or try to negotiate a single dollar, the deal is off. I will then have my team investigate every code violation, every tax discrepancy, and every illegal eviction your client has ever filed. You’ll lose the building and face multiple lawsuits. It’s your choice: instant, clean profit, or utter financial ruin."