Chapter 2

At 5:30 a.m. the next morning, the familiar footsteps were not heard in the corridor.

For the sake of this weekend's finals, Amy has been getting up at this time every day for the past six months without fail to go for a morning run to improve her physical fitness.

I had a vague feeling that something was wrong, so I carried the freshly made oatmeal porridge upstairs and gently pushed open her half-closed door.

In the dim morning light, Amy sat blankly on the edge of the bed.

She clutched the basketball shoes with worn-out soles tightly to her chest, her shoulders trembling slightly uncontrollably, but she bit her lip hard to keep herself from crying out loud.

On the table next to her was a cheap cardboard box filled with her knee pads, water bottle, and jersey.

"What happened?" I walked over quickly, my heart clenching as if something had grabbed it.

Amy raised her bloodshot eyes and handed me her phone.

It was an email from the team's official system—not only did they unilaterally disqualify her from all subsequent matches, but just half an hour earlier, they had sent someone to empty Amy's locker in the locker room, packing up her personal belongings like trash and sending them back.

The reason given is outrageously absurd: it would affect team unity.

Looking into my daughter's eyes, which were usually full of energy but now dull and lifeless, a surge of suppressed anger rushed to my chest.

I know how much sweat she shed and how many falls she endured to stand on that court. No one should trample on her hard work like this.

"Don't be afraid, have breakfast." I took a deep breath, gently rubbing the top of her head with my rough hands, suppressing the anger in my voice, "This is an adult's method, Dad will handle it."

After settling Amy in, I drove directly to the town's sports stadium management office.

The moment I pushed open the office door, the administrator was preparing to stamp the suspension notice with the final seal.

I strode over and grabbed his wrist.

"What did Amy do wrong?" I stared into his eyes, and the pressure on my hand involuntarily increased.

"Ouch—let go! Smith, you're hurting me!" The administrator's face contorted in pain, and when he saw the chilling glint in my eyes that seemed capable of tearing him apart in an instant, he instinctively shivered.

"I don't want to ask a second time." I released his hand, my tone extremely cold.

The manager clutched his wrist, his voice trembling: "It wasn't up to me! Last night, Mr. Davis called and cut off our maintenance funding for the next quarter! The higher-ups said that if Amy isn't fired, I'll lose my job too. I have no way to fight back!"

This is the real estate developer's revenge.

I didn't make things difficult for him and turned to leave.

When I drove back to my hardware store, the roller shutter door had been violently broken open, and five or six people were ransacking the store like a gang of robbers.

The shelves were overturned, and boxes of parts were scattered all over the ground, leaving a mess.

"The wiring here is severely aged, posing a major fire hazard!" A chubby inspector leading the team stomped on a thermometer on the ground, twirled his pen, and looked at me outside the door with undisguised malice. "Smith, your store has been jointly shut down and is now ordered to cease operations indefinitely for investigation."

Seeing my livelihood, which I had poured years of hard work into, destroyed like this, I clenched my fists, my knuckles turning slightly white from the force.

Anger surged wildly through my veins.

I strode in, stepping over the piles of discarded parts, and casually picked up a solid steel pipe about an inch thick from the ground.

The fat inspector thought I was going to make a move and took a few steps back in fright.

I gripped both ends of the steel pipe with both hands and suddenly exerted force with my wrists.

With a muffled "crack," the solid steel pipe twisted in my hand, eventually bending into a terrifying inverted U-shape.

Amidst their horrified gazes, I slammed the piece of scrap metal down at the fat inspector's feet with a clang.

I approached him, my voice low and menacing like thunder before a storm, “Don’t expect to force me to back down with such underhanded tactics.”

The portly inspector swallowed hard, forcing out a sinister smile, and said quickly in a voice only the two of us could hear, "Buddy, so what if you're strong? You've offended the Davis family, and your whole family will be stuck in this town. Boss Davis is magnanimous; as long as you go and bow down to him now, apologize, and admit your mistake, your shop can reopen tomorrow. Don't risk your livelihood for a little pride."

"roll."

The group didn't dare linger for another second. Before they could even properly affix the seal, they hurriedly climbed into their car, stepped on the gas, and drove off.

Just as I was about to right the fallen shelf, my phone suddenly beeped with a notification.

That was a message from the community group chat.

I tapped on the screen, and what greeted my eyes was a short video that was going viral, with the background being the supermarket at the end of my neighborhood.

In the video, Amy is clutching a few simple daily necessities, being cornered in a dark alley by Luke and his three companions.

"How does it feel to lose the stadium?" Luke's wicked laughter came through the screen as he knocked over the things Amy was holding, scattering cereal all over the floor.

Taking advantage of his numbers, he even reached out and shoved Amy's shoulder forcefully, saying, "Without your ragpicker father protecting you, what are you? A rat in the sewers!"

The camera was shaking violently, and the person recording the video was laughing wildly.

Amy's back slammed heavily against the mottled wall. She clenched her fists tightly, stubbornly raised her head, her eyes filled with unyielding anger, and glared at the bullies.

In this large group of several thousand people, the video's views continued to soar, but not a single person stood up to say a word, not even a weak protest.

Fear of the Davis family led the entire town to choose indifferent bystanders.

Spiderweb-like cracks appeared on the phone screen under my fingertips, piercing my thumb, but I felt no pain.

The father's heartache and the deep-seated murderous intent within him converged completely at this moment, burning into an untouchable coldness.

Davis, you shouldn't have crossed this line, you shouldn't have reached out to my daughter!

I dropped the wrench I was working on and turned to disappear into the town.