karlmaks
Stories
7
Chapters
3,381
Words
5.9 M
Comments
20
Reading
20 d, 11 h
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Hearing the mention of a septic truck, Alberto’s interest was piqued. “Are you planning to flood his restaurant with sewage?” “That’s a great idea. Who the hell would eat in a cesspool?” Lance shook his head. “I hate to disappoint you, but if we dump sewage in his restaurant, it would be illegal. Fines, cleanup costs, and even a public apology might cost more than what he owes you.” Alberto thought for a moment and nodded. Lance had a point. He wanted money and satisfaction, not to pay…-
1.5 M • Ongoing
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The restaurant manager looked at the feces smeared across the glass walls, the yellow sludge splattered through the front door, and the road outside covered in filth. For a moment, he felt like laughing. But seeing Mr. Anderson’s furious expression, he held it in. He walked over to Mr. Anderson, who was currently busy directing the apprentices in cleaning up the mess. Surprisingly, after the morning’s relentless assaults, the apprentices seemed to have developed a psychological immunity to feces.…-
1.5 M • Ongoing
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By midday, the stench still lingered around the restaurant, attracting a crowd of curious onlookers. In the Federation, people never lacked a sense of schadenfreude. Watching someone else face misfortune or humiliation often gave them a strange, inward satisfaction. The restaurant only served three tables during lunch, and those customers left with harsh complaints. The awful smell had ruined their meals, and they vowed never to return. To appease them, the manager waived their bills and handed out wine…-
1.5 M • Ongoing
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Monday morning, Mr. Anderson was up early, and so were the apprentices, cooks, and waitstaff—he’d demanded everyone arrive earlier than usual. The previous night, he had hired someone to make a large sign: - Due to high demand, the maximum dining time is two hours. Customers exceeding this limit may be asked to settle their bill and leave. - Single diners may be required to share tables during busy hours. - The restaurant reserves the right to refuse service to suspicious individuals. The sign was…-
1.5 M • Ongoing
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A police car slowly cruised down the street, its siren lights rotating lazily as if reluctant to disturb the morning calm. The officer in the passenger seat was munching on a heavily decorated donut—stuffed with strawberry jam, dusted with powdered sugar, and drizzled with honey. It was so sweet it could make someone sick, but the Federation folks loved it. Pairing it with a fizzy soda and a gas-filled belch afterward was the dream for many. “What do you think Anderson’s calling about this time?”…-
1.5 M • Ongoing
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“Who’s that?” In another corner, seven or eight teenagers surrounded a young man in his early twenties, wearing a baseball cap. It was clear that he was the center of this small group. A younger boy whispered, “I heard his name is Lance, an illegal immigrant from Balman State.” “He claimed he just finished a job that paid him 200 bucks. That’s why Rob got into a fight with him earlier—so annoying.” Balman State wasn’t exactly a prosperous region in the Empire. Its economy was…-
1.5 M • Ongoing
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Another incident? Mr. Anderson froze for a moment, but then a shiver ran down his spine, and his eyebrows shot up. “That bastard is back again?” The manager quickly shook his head, knowing exactly whom Mr. Anderson was referring to. “Not him. I don’t even know how to explain it. You need to see it for yourself!” Mr. Anderson yanked off his apron and strode toward the main hall. But the moment he stood in the doorway, he… was stunned. The restaurant was packed, yet at each table, there was…-
1.5 M • Ongoing
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Alberto crossed one leg over the other as he lit a cigarette. Lowering his head, he inhaled deeply before leaning back and exhaling a plume of smoke toward the ceiling. “So…” Lance picked up where he left off. “So, I plan to find some locals with legal status—maybe some homeless folks—pay them a few bucks, and have them dine at Mr. Anderson’s restaurant. Then, I’ll involve a few journalists to frame it as a human-interest piece. Something like... ‘The Restaurant Most Loved by Homeless…-
1.5 M • Ongoing
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Standing in the alley next to the restaurant, Mr. Anderson handed Lance the $400, his expression a mixture of cold indifference and disgust. By now, Anderson was convinced that these two were hired to stir up trouble. He had no shortage of “enemies” in Jingang City. Alberto, that greedy dog, was certainly one of them. Then there was his former business partner— Recently, the partner had noticed how well the restaurant was doing and reached out two weeks ago, hoping to repurchase the shares he’d…-
1.5 M • Ongoing
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"Uncle Bolton, I heard this apartment is owned by you and not rented. Is that true?" Lance glanced at the glass of water on the table, showing no intention of touching it. Mr. Bolton kept waiting expectantly for him to take a sip, ready to confirm his point with something like, "See? Didn’t I tell you? The tap water here is odorless and even sweet!" Lance needed to change the subject, and when he spoke, he chose a topic Mr. Bolton couldn’t ignore. Bolton’s lips curled into an uncontrollable smile.…-
1.5 M • Ongoing
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