"Are you serious, sir?" Slick's wary expression quickly morphed into one of greed. Five hundred million was enough for him to make a fresh start. He no longer cared who the man in black was—if the money was right, the neighborhood was as good as sold.
Thud!
The man in black tossed A silver briefcase at Slick's feet, saying, "There's two million in deposit here. Feel free to check."
Slick eagerly picked up the briefcase, his eyes lighting up as he opened it to see the neatly stacked cash inside. A broad grin spread across his face. "Sir, normally, we require a deposit of one percent. This isn't quite enough."
"This is the compensation you'll need to pay that guy for breaching the contract. The rest of the money will be delivered soon," the man in black replied.
Slick's grin grew wider. He didn't know why this neighborhood was suddenly in such high demand, but he understood one thing—holding on to it wasn't worth the risk anymore. Better to sell it for a great price and rebuild his fortune than cling to it and end up dead.
…
The night passed, and dawn slowly broke. At 7.30 a.m., Matthew sat a short distance from the neighborhood, having breakfast with Shawn.
"Boss, didn't you agree to meet at 8 a.m.? It's already 7.30 a.m. Why hasn't he shown up yet?" Shawn asked, sipping his soy milk.
Normally, in business deals like this, people would show up early to show their sincerity. Even Matthew had come half an hour early, bringing Shawn along for breakfast. But with the clock ticking toward eight, there was still no sign of Slick.
"No rush. He might've gotten held up by something unexpected," Matthew said, shaking his head at Shawn and gesturing for patience.
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