Gangster heir? Please call me a legitimate entrepreneur.

The night air was muggy.

Chu Zhongtian carried a half-meter-long piece of rebar and stepped onto the paving stones of the train station square.

More than 300 people followed behind, dragging steel pipes that scraped across the floor tiles with a screeching sound.

Mars jumped up and down.

In front.

More than 500 beat-up Santanas and Jettas, freshly washed and even waxed, were lined up neatly.

The yellow roof light on the car was flashing.

The car was completely empty; there wasn't a single driver in sight.

Chu Zhongtian paused for a moment, then lifted the steel pipe in his hand slightly.

He squinted his eyes, which were squeezed into slits by his thick muscles, and looked over in the pale, high-pressure sodium lamps of the square.

Next to each white car stood five men in black suits and ties.

He didn't bring a knife or a stick.

He was holding a black plastic folder in his left hand.

My right thumb is on a widescreen calculator.

An eerie silence hung in the air.

All that could be heard were the heavy breathing of more than three hundred thugs.

"Brother Chu... what's going on here?"

The blond-haired man's palms were sweaty, and he couldn't hold the baseball bat properly, so he wiped them haphazardly on his trouser leg.

Chu Zhongtian spat a mouthful of yellow phlegm that smelled of smoke onto the ground.

"Playing tricks! When I was a gangster, they were still playing in the mud! Smash it! Smash it to pieces!"

Yellow Hair swallowed hard and mustered his courage.

He yelled and charged at a Santana parked on the outermost edge of the road, wielding a baseball bat.

"Clang—"

The windshield cracked instantly, like a spiderweb.

A shard of glass shattered and landed all over the blond guy's face.

A shard of metal cut his cheekbone, and blood was seeping out.

Huang Mao thought the other party was going to attack, so he instinctively shrank back and held the stick in front of his chest.

The five men in suits opposite them did not move.

Standing at the very front, Chen Suan, with two heavy dark circles under his eyes, took a step forward unsteadily.

He clutched his stomach tightly with his left hand, and sweat beaded on his forehead.

I stayed up all night yesterday checking the balance sheet, and stomach acid is refluxing down my esophagus, leaving a sour taste in my throat.

Chen Suan pushed up his black-rimmed glasses, which had slipped down to the tip of his nose, with his right index finger and opened the folder.

"The original windshield cost 1,200 yuan."

His tone was flat and monotone.

My right hand pressed on the calculator, and a crisp "beep" sounded.

"Add the installation labor cost of two hundred. That's fourteen thousand for what you just did."

Chen Suan tore off a piece of the "Damage Assessment Report" that smelled of printer toner, held it by the edges with both hands, and handed it to the blond-haired man under his nose.

The blond guy was dumbfounded.

His eyes were wide open.

He glanced at the list, then at Chen Suan's bloodless face.

"You...you're fucking crazy, aren't you? I'm here to cause trouble! You want to settle scores with me?" The blond-haired guy's voice cracked.

Chen Suan's Adam's apple bobbed, but he didn't reply. He simply pushed the form forward another inch.

"Sign here. You don't have to sign, there's a body camera recording."

He pointed to the small black squares pinned to the chests of his four colleagues next to him.

The red light above is flashing.

Chu Zhongtian, watching from behind, was furious, and the rebar in his hand trembled.

"Go to hell! That brat Su Ye's gone mad, and all his men are fucking lunatics! Brothers, let's smash this!"

Three hundred thugs roared and pounced on him.

What happened next made Chu Zhongtian feel a tightness in his bladder whenever he thought about it for the rest of his life.

"Bang!" A fat man smashed the car door with a steel pipe.

The lawyer next to him adjusted his glasses. "Right door sheet metal repair, 1200."

Tear off the form and hand it over.

"Crash!" The rearview mirror was kicked away.

"Left rearview mirror assembly, original part, 850. Added to the bill."

"Bang!" The hood was dented.

Three hundred people were smashing cars.

More than a thousand legal and financial staff in suits were pressing calculators nearby.

Throughout the square, the sounds of metal clanging and glass shattering were completely drowned out by the constant electronic sounds of calculators.

"Reset to zero - beep beep beep."

"Add two hundred."

Chu Zhongtian stood there, cold sweat trickling down his forehead.

This isn't right.

When they fight for territory, both sides grab weapons and chop at each other, and bloodshed is a common occurrence.

Whoever has the stronger fist has the final say.

But now the other party doesn't fight back or talk back, they're just calmly calculating the money.

Those flimsy sheets of white paper were stuffed into the younger brother's hands like death warrants.

Huang Mao smashed three cars in a row, panting heavily.

The baseball bat was curled at the edges.

He felt his mouth was dry and was about to wipe the sweat from his brow with his sleeve.

Suddenly, a black tray was handed to me from the side.

On top was an unopened bottle of Nongfu Spring water, with water droplets still clinging to its surface.

Zhou Ming, wearing an oversized black suit, had a professional smile plastered on his face.

The back instantly bent to a perfect ninety degrees.

"Big brother, are you tired of smashing things?"

Zhou Ming casually pulled out a tissue to wipe the cold sweat from his forehead. "Drink some water to soothe your throat. Our chairman instructed that we should treat our guests well and not let them get dehydrated."

Huang Mao's brain completely shut down.

The baseball bat in his hand fell to the ground with a "clang".

He shakily took the bottled water, stammering, "Thank you... no, uh, what... what do you want?"

Zhou Ming straightened up and used a rag to wipe the broken window frame of the car by Huang Mao to prevent glass shards from falling down.

"The service industry is all about user experience. Keep smashing, we still have over three hundred cars that haven't been sold yet."

The blond-haired man was so frightened that he took two steps back and stepped on a piece of broken glass.

He twisted his ankle and landed hard on his bottom.

The sounds of cars being smashed all around stopped without anyone noticing.

More than three hundred thugs stood there dumbfounded, holding steel pipes and baseball bats, as if they had been put on pause.

Some people were even forced to back down by the legal department.

"Stop handing it over! I won't smash it, okay?!"

A shirtless, burly man screamed in despair and threw the steel pipe he was holding far into the green belt.

Chu Zhongtian felt as if his heart was being gripped tightly by a cold, large hand.

He'd been in the business for twenty years and had never seen such a rogue tactic before.

No knives or guns, no fists.

Using the most legal terms and the most polite attitude, we'll skin you alive.

He realized he had stepped into a bottomless pit, a legal trap that Su Ye had dug specifically for him.

"Get the hell out of here...all of you get on the bus! Let's go!"

Chu Zhongtian's voice was hoarse, and he shouted until his voice cracked.

He turned and ran towards the old Mercedes, but his leather shoes slipped on the engine oil and he almost fell flat on his face.

I had just run to the car door, but hadn't even pulled the handle yet.

Chen Suan clutched his stomach and walked over slowly.

The leather shoes made a "crackling" sound as they stepped on the broken glass.

He pressed the thick stack of "Damage Assessment Summary Sheets" on the hood of the Mercedes-Benz.

"Boss Chu, in such a hurry to leave?"

Chen Suan swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing, his voice carrying the coldness of a Wall Street financial machine.

"In the past twenty minutes, you have damaged a total of 117 vehicles."

He adjusted his slipped-down black-rimmed glasses. "The lost wages for tomorrow due to the vehicle damage. Plus compensation for the driver's emotional distress. And..."

Chen Suan turned a page, "Due to the decrease in transportation capacity, our Sihai Yulibao fund pool has suffered indirect interest losses."

Chu Zhongtian's back was pressed against the car door, his legs were trembling, and he swallowed hard.

"You, you're kidding me! I won't pay you a single penny!"

Chen Suan didn't look up; his finger was pointing at the summary column for the total amount.

"A total of 38.6 million."

He lifted his eyelids, and his dark circles made him look like a vengeful ghost.

"The surveillance footage and damage assessment report have been simultaneously sent to the Municipal Public Security Bureau's Economic Crime Investigation Division and the court. Mr. Chu, are you prepared for your company account to be frozen by 9:00 AM tomorrow?"