Chapter 534: Chapter 534

The inside of the shop was even worse than it looked from outside. The air felt heavy, thick with dust and something metallic. Shelves were packed with random junk—old radios, watches, tools, cheap jewelry, things that looked stolen more than pawned. A glass display case near the counter held a mix of rings and small electronics, all scratched and worn.

The lighting was dim, a few flickering fluorescent tubes casting a dull glow over everything. In the back, a thin curtain separated the main area from whatever was behind it.

One of the customers handed over some cash to the man behind the counter and left without saying much. The door shut behind him, and just like that, it was only us.

The guy at the counter looked up.

The moment his eyes landed on Sophia, his expression changed. Recognition hit instantly, followed by something darker. Yeah, he had definitely been at the bar.

"Bastard," he muttered, leaning forward slightly. "Why are you here, you whore?"

"Watch your mouth, fuck-o," Melvin snapped before I could say anything. "Or I’ll wash it with soap."

The guy blinked, clearly not expecting that.

Before anything else could be said, the curtain at the back was suddenly pushed aside.

Four men stepped out. Big. Broad shoulders. The kind of presence that filled the room without effort. They didn’t rush, didn’t speak, just spread out slightly as they walked forward, eyes locked on us.

I leaned slightly toward Melvin and spoke under my breath. "Melvin... shut the fuck up."

"Yeah," he whispered back quickly. "Yeah, I will."

I took a step toward the counter and kept my voice steady. "Where’s Brok?"

"I don’t know," the man replied without hesitation. "And I advise you to fuck off, friend."

"I just want to talk to him about Mark," I said. "The guy who owes him money. I think we can reach an agreement and end this whole mess."

Before he could answer, the curtain behind him shifted again. A man stepped through, and the air in the room seemed to change with him. One of his eyes was completely white, useless, and the other studied us carefully. He was bald, broad-shouldered, and dressed in a worn brown jacket and pants that looked like they had seen better years. A strong mix of alcohol and cigarettes clung to him. He didn’t look old, maybe around forty, but he carried himself like someone who had been through too much and didn’t care anymore.

"Mark?" the man said, his accent thick. "Now that we can talk about. Who are you?"

"Evan," I replied. "And you?"

"Brok." He stepped closer to the counter and rested his elbow on it. "Nice to meet you. Have you come here to pay his debt?"

"Maybe," I said. "How much does he owe?"

"Two million."

I frowned immediately. "What the fuck? Two million?"

"It was fifty at first," Brok said calmly. "With interest, now two million."

"That’s insane," I replied. "I’m willing to pay the original amount. Fifty. We settle this, and everyone walks away. Clean."

"Two million," he repeated, as if I had said nothing at all. "I don’t take less."

"Be reasonable," I said, exhaling slowly. "No one here can come up with that kind of money. You know that. Just take the original amount and move on."

"You come into my shop," he said, his tone sharpening, "and tell me what to do?"

"I came here to negotiate," I answered, lifting my hands slightly to show I wasn’t looking for trouble. "You know Mark won’t pay you anything. You can threaten him all you want, but that doesn’t change reality. I’m offering you something real."

The system stayed silent. No help from Honeyed Words this time.

Fine.

I activated Crushing Presence and stepped closer. I felt it kick in immediately. It wasn’t visible, but it pressed down on the room, subtle but heavy. Brok’s posture shifted just slightly as he straightened up, like he felt it too.

I extended my hand. "Fifty. Take it. We both walk away satisfied."

Above him, the system reacted. Two translucent dice appeared in my view. I had to reach twelve. It wasn’t going to be easy.

And it seemed I had five chances in total. I had already invested five points into the skill, which logically meant I would get to roll five times, but with only one die per roll. When I added the sixth point, the system rewarded me with an extra die that I could use once across those five attempts. Since I ended up with ten points in total, that meant I could roll two dice on each of my five attempts.

"Why would I do that?" Brok asked, watching me carefully.

The first attempt rolled in my vision. Six and four. Crap.

"Because it makes sense," I said. "You get paid instead of chasing someone who has nothing."

Another attempt. Double four. Ah, come on.

"Two million is worth more than your offer," he replied. "Why would I settle for less?"

I kept my expression steady even as the system rolled again. Six and five... damn it.

"Because you’re not getting two million from him," I said. "You know that. I know that. This is your best option."

The next roll failed again. Three and one...

Brok’s lips curled slightly. "I like my chances."

One last attempt. The numbers came up short once again. Two and six.

Well, fuck me sideways.

I lowered my hand slowly. So that was it.

"I’d rather take my chances," he continued, then his gaze flicked past me toward Sophia. "Or that whore, Eleanor, could always offer me... heh-heh, ’something’ instead."

I clenched my jaw. "Don’t talk about her like that."

"I’ll talk however I want," he said. "Now get the fuck out of my shop."

I held his gaze for a moment longer, then nodded once. "Fine."

I turned back toward Sophia and Melvin. Melvin looked like he regretted every life decision that had led him here. His shoulders were tense, his eyes darting around the room. Sophia, on the other hand, stood still and composed, her attention locked on Brok and his men.

"Let’s go," I said.

"Y-yeah," Melvin muttered quickly. "Let’s... L-Let’s just get out of here."

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