The middle-aged man straightened his posture, his expression calm but unreadable.
"We're really sorry for everything you went through yesterday because of us," he said, his voice carefully measured. "It was our driver's fault. The moment we got the news, we fired him immediately and came here to visit you."
He stepped a little closer, lowering his head in what looked like an apology, while the other two men remained still, their eyes trained on me.
I studied him.
Did he really think he could just come in here, apologize, and I'd say, Oh, it's fine. Accidents happen, and we'd move on like nothing ever happened?
I let out a small breath, keeping my voice neutral.
"I never thought I'd ever get an apology from someone as wealthy as you," I admitted. "But is that really enough?"
The man lifted his head, his eyes sharp. His face didn't carry the guilt of someone who was genuinely remorseful. Instead, there was a quiet confidence there, something that didn't quite match the words coming out of his mouth.
"An apology? For what happened to me yesterday?" I continued, my tone a little colder. "Why don't you go meet the doctor who operated on me first—"
Before I could even finish my sentence, he cut me off.
"I heard you had surgery. A complicated one at that. But you see, son, neither of us can change what's already happened. I know an apology isn't enough, but I truly am sorry."
His voice was steady, his expression almost convincing—if not for the brief flicker of something beneath it. A tiny, unnatural smile. One that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"I know there isn't much I can do at this point," he continued, "but I can at least cover all of your hospital expenses—if you'd like me to."
He paused, hesitating for just a fraction of a second.
Something else.
I picked up on the shift immediately.
"Anything else you want to say?" I asked.
He gave a small hum. "Yes, actually. I have a small transportation business."
My gaze flickered to his wrist, where a polished gold watch gleamed under the fluorescent hospital lights.
A small business? Right.
The expensive suits, the two men following him like shadows—it all painted a completely different picture.
"I can't go into detail, but the police report you filed against the driver is causing a lot of problems for both me and my company," he admitted, his voice still measured. "We were already struggling before this, but now we're on the brink of shutting down. I'd be really grateful if you took the complaint back."
The confidence never wavered from his face.
So this was what he really came for.
I'd already been questioned by some officers earlier this afternoon. They asked for details about the accident and whether I wanted to file an official report. I agreed.
That explained why he was here.
But… shouldn't the driver be the one in trouble?
Confused, I asked, "Oh? But won't the police go after the driver?"
He gave a slow nod. "You're right. But it's… complicated. It's an internal conflict, so I can't tell you the full details. But what I can tell you is that the driver who caused the accident ran away. And now? They're coming after me instead."
His words were carefully chosen, but there was something off about the way he said internal conflict.
I didn't care about whatever mess he was tangled up in. But what did matter was that the deal he was offering wasn't nearly enough.
"Sorry, Mister, but I can't," I replied, keeping my tone firm but polite. "I appreciate the offer to cover my hospital bills, but what about the problems I'm going to face because of these injuries?"
I let the words hang in the air for a moment before adding, "Just because you may have knowingly hired an unlicensed driver—or maybe someone who wasn't even from Liac?"
His face remained calm, but I caught the faintest shift in his eyes.
It wasn't uncommon for companies to employ unlicensed drivers, especially those from outside of Liac. But that was illegal. With the state of the world as it was, places like Liac had strict regulations—outsiders weren't allowed in without proper identification due to the threats they posed.
If that was the case here… well.
Would you look at that.
His expression slowly shifted. The sad, remorseful look in his eyes hardened into something more serious.
Still, he smiled. Kept his gaze locked onto mine. And then, he chuckled.
"It's not like that, kid," he said, shaking his head slightly. "You shouldn't throw around baseless accusations without knowing the details. That kind of thing could cause more problems for you."
…Was that a threat?
I kept my face neutral, lowering my head slightly in a gesture of apology. "You're right. I apologize for my words."
Then, straightening up, I added, "But I still won't take back my report. I don't think the compensation you're offering is enough."
At that, Tom let out a dramatic sigh, lowering his gaze.
Then, suddenly, he chuckled again. This time, he glanced behind him—toward the two men standing by the door.
One of them finally moved. But not toward me. Toward the exit.
Meanwhile, Tom casually slipped his hands into his pockets, searching for something. A second later, he pulled out a pair of black gloves.
I immediately knew where this was heading.
Concerning? Yeah.
But also an opportunity.
And I wasn't about to let it slip away.
Forcing myself to stay calm, I asked, "If you don't have anything else to say, can you leave?"
Silence.
He ignored me, slipping the gloves onto his hands at an unhurried pace.
Then, still wearing that confident look, he spoke again.
"You know the difference between the problems in a math book and the problems in life?"
I didn't answer.
His smile widened. "The problems in a math book usually have one—maybe two—correct answers."
He leaned in closer, his breath warm against my skin. The broad smile on his face, the unwavering confidence in his eyes—it made him look weirdly terrifying.
"But real life," he whispered, his voice laced with malice, "offers you hundreds of answers for every problem."
The words lingered between us, heavy and sharp.
"You can either say yes," he continued, his tone casual yet threatening, "or I'll just have to find another way—one that doesn't include you."
So that was it.
He was trying to intimidate me.