Chapter 2

You rode a tricycle around the construction site when you were little! I've told you this eight hundred times, but every time you just go 'uh-huh' and keep playing video games—"

"Wait. "

I opened my messages. Scrolled to the family group chat, "The Shaw Family Circle. "

Three days ago, my mom had sent a spreadsheet. My response below it—

"Got it, thanks. "

It was an auto-reply. I'd set up keyword triggers. I opened the spreadsheet. Delinquent tenant list. Seven companies total. Third row. Three months overdue, totaling $870,000. Company name: Apex Interactive Technologies, Inc. Legal representative: Richard Kane. I stared at that name for ten seconds. Then put down the box. Pulled out a cigarette. Lit it. Took a drag. Another drag. Then, cigarette between my fingers, I tilted my head back and looked up at that twenty-six-story glass facade—

And laughed. I actually laughed out loud. Fired by my own family's tenant. **Chapter Two**

7:30 PM. BBQ joint. Doug slammed two beers on the table, his face screaming "Bro, don't be sad, Doug's here for you. "

I chewed on a lamb skewer and played my mom's voicemail on speaker. "Your dad took you to see it when you were little! You drew Sun Wukong on a pillar in the Building A lobby with crayons—it's still there! "

"Don't remember. "

"Of course you don't, you were only four. But the pillar's still there! Go to the lobby tomorrow and look, third one on the left—"

I paused it. Doug's skewer dropped half its meat onto the table. He stared at me, mouth open, a piece of asparagus dangling from his lip. "Your... your family owns it? All of Kingston Tech Park? "

"My mom says so. "

"All of it? Not just a small office? "

"All of it. "

"Building A, B, and C? Plus the cafeteria in the middle? "

"Plus the parking lot. "

He chugged his beer. "Ethan, what the hell were you doing working at that company for five years? "

"I only found out today too. "

"Your parents didn't tell you? "

"They did. " I showed him the chat history. "My mom sent a voice message last year, forty-seven seconds. I replied with 'okay. '"

"Did you listen to it? "

"No. Forty-seven seconds was too long. "

Doug slammed his chopsticks on the table. "You deserved to get optimized. "

Thanks, man. Really appreciate you giving me the most honest assessment at my most vulnerable moment. He spent five minutes processing this, chugging three beers before finally accepting reality. Then he leaned forward, lowered his voice, eyes gleaming—

"So what are you going to do? "

"Collect rent. "

"And then? "

"No 'and then. ' My mom asked me to collect rent, so I'll collect rent. "

"You're not going to get revenge? That bastard Marcus stealing your proposal—"

"That's separate. I'll be a good landlord first. "

Doug stared at me for a few seconds. "You're scheming something. "

"I'm eating BBQ. "

That night when I got home, my mom had already prepared everything. Property deed, lease agreement, property management authorization—all neatly arranged on the coffee table. Next to them sat a bowl of white fungus and lotus seed soup. My dad was on the sofa watching TV, a medicated patch on his back. When he saw me, he said one thing—

"Don't be too aggressive collecting rent. Business is about relationships. "

My mom shouted from the kitClark: "What relationships! Debts must be paid! You're too soft—three months overdue and you haven't said a word! "

She poked her head out. "Son, when you go tomorrow, stand tall. You represent the Shaw family! "

I flipped through the contracts and found Apex Interactive's. Monthly rent: $290,000. Three-year lease, expiring next June. But they'd stopped paying three months ago. The contract clearly stated: consecutive non-payment exceeding two months gives the lessor the right to unilaterally terminate the agreement. I stared at that clause. Thought back to Marcus's phone call in his office today. "People like that, just throw enough money at them. "

I turned to page two of the property management authorization. It bore the seal of Shaw Property Management, Inc. The agent line was blank. My mom handed me a pen. "Fill in your name. "

I did. As the pen touched paper, I suddenly found it oddly fascinating. Yesterday I'd been the lowest-level operations specialist in that building. Tomorrow I'd walk in as the landlord's representative to collect rent. I leaned back in my chair, looking out at the night. "Mom, besides this park, do we have other properties? "

"Sure, your dad has two mixed-use buildings in the south district. Why? "

"... Nothing. "

"Oh right, you know about your grandmother's situation, right? "

"Doesn't Grandma run a grain and oil shop? "

Two seconds of silence. "Well... sort of. " She carried a plate back to the kitClark, her voice fading. "Sort of. "

That hesitant "sort of" gave me a vague sense of unease. That night I had a dream. I was in Apex Interactive's lobby. On the third pillar from the left, there was a crayon drawing of Sun Wukong. The lines were crooked. Marcus stood nearby, holding a rag, trying to erase it. In my dream, I said one thing—

"Don't erase it. That pillar is mine. "

**Chapter Three**

The next day, 10 AM. I wore a white dress shirt, carried a briefcase, and stood in the Kingston Tech Park Building A lobby. Looked down. Third pillar from the left. Near the bottom, there was a faint crayon mark. If you didn't look carefully, you couldn't tell it was supposed to be Sun Wukong. It looked like melted ice cream with two legs. I confirmed it. It really was my drawing. Deep breath. Walked toward reception. The receptionist was Emily Lane. Started last year. I knew her. She knew me too. "E... Ethan?