Dravin crossed his legs on the black leather sofa. He was barely listening to Mr. Landford, who was rambling, promoting various properties in the Amethyst block by recounting their entire history.
Of course, he ignored him. His eyes were already fixed on the photo of the three-story commercial building on the tablet in his lap.
"Mr. Landford, I want this building." Dravin cut the bald man off, pointing to the tablet.
Mr. Landford's jaw dropped, clearly taken aback by the sudden demand.
"That's… You truly have a keen eye for such a young man. Naturally, that building has the best position in the entire Amethyst block. But… unfortunately, it's currently leased."
"I know." Dravin said, pursing his lips dismissively.
"But it must be this building. I could even buy this building, not just rent. Can you convey that to the landlord?"
The shock on Mr. Landford's face deepened. "The—the landlord isn't selling that building. No—no matter how much you pay, he won't sell it."
Dravin frowned. "Why are you so certain? You haven't even asked."
"Because the landlord loves money. But two years ago, someone else wanted to buy that building and offered double the market price. He didn't budge. I'm absolutely sure he won't sell."
Mr. Landford's explanation caused Dravin to tap his fingers on the sofa, disappointed.
It must be this building. Not just because it sat in the center of District 6, but because it was the only three-floor structure facing the campus academy—a place where young people naturally glanced in its direction.
But… Dravin gave a sly smile because those weren't the only reasons he was so stubbornly set on the modern, oak-furnished building.
This place, currently a sports supply store, was leased by a former swimmer who had been his bully since high school and college.
Justin Brooke was the bastard who made Dravin Austin bury his dream of becoming the number one swimmer right before his big match.
"Can you let me meet the landlord? I'll persuade him myself." Dravin was persistent.
"I'm afraid that won't be possible, Young Master Dravin. His primary residence is in District 2. The only way to meet him is if he agrees to come here or invites you there."
Dravin sighed in surprise. He hadn't expected someone important from District 2 to own property here, and he was keenly aware of the strict protocol for entering District 2.
So, meeting him would waste more time, huh? Then...
"Can you tell him I will pay triple the market's price for the rent and pay for ten years in advance?" Dravin countered with a massive bargain.
As expected, Mr. Lanford's expression froze, utterly speechless. He seemed ready to deny the request again, but with the seventy million Goldin Dravin was essentially offering, he couldn't possibly object. It was the the price of the building itself.
"And, I want the place ready in five days. That's enough time to clear out the tenant, isn't it? And tell the landlord again: as long as I'm alive, I will keep renewing the lease every ten years." Dravin continued.
Mr. Lanford swallowed hard. He had never heard of anyone in District 6 so casually and effortlessly throwing around tens of millions of Goldin.
"I… I will convey it to him, Young Master. He… he will be delighted with your offer." The bald man stuttered in disbelief and excitement. "But can you wait until next month? The current lease runs out then. The landlord is very kind and rarely evicts tenants. If you—"
"Three days, or I'm out," Dravin pressed harder. "I'll move to another district and start my business there. Seventy million Goldin in District 7 could probably secure two buildings in the district center."
"Oh, wait… wait… Fine, Young Master, I'll ensure the building is empty within three days." Cold sweat beaded on Mr. Lanford's forehead and temples.
Mr. Lanford was certain the money-obsessed landlord would instantly accept the young master's offer. The tenant would be evicted by tomorrow, five days was overkill.
However, the agent was still suspicious of this young master, who seemed to have money falling from the sky.
Even the current tenant, a former famous athlete and one of the richest men in the district, was trying to negotiate a discount for next month's renewal after four years of leasing.
He wanted to find out the young man's background before finalizing a deal. What if he was just some lunatic scamming him?
"And don't call me Young Master. Call me Chef," Dravin said. "I'm building a family restaurant there, and who knows, it might go famous in months and substantially increase the estate value around Amethyst Block." Dravin offered a meaningful smile.
Dravin immediately stood up and excused himself. After shaking hands and taking Mr. Lanford's account number, he left the real estate agency.
He strolled down the sidewalk with a relaxed gait, his hands tucked into his pockets.
Even though he was used to being rich, he'd never felt this satisfied; in his past life, he was always anxious about spending large amounts of money.
He constantly looked for ways to negotiate and get discounts on every transaction. But here, he could spend with utter contentment—
[Are you having fun, Chef? You sure know how to indulge in money.] Rubby's voice cut through his peaceful walk, a teasing remark inside his head.
Do I?Maybe because it's not my own money. But I am spending it well though. That building is the most strategic one in this district, he mused, whistling as he crossed the street toward a branded clothing boutique.
[Not because of revenge?]
Dravin's whistling stopped, his steps pausing as he joined a short queue outside the boutique. There were three people ahead of him; it was an expensive store that only allowed five customers inside at a time.
Rubby's question echoed in his mind. Revenge? Why would I? It's in my memory, sure, but I don't really feel the grudge toward that prick ex-athlete.
[So… you don't have a slight urge to make him angry by legally–unfairly–stealing his leased building?]
The term Rubby used made Dravin chuckle. It seems I've become a villain.
Let's just agree Karma would find its way back.