Crown of Fortune

Chapter 4 The New Boss

Flynt was absolutely livid!

This i***t was blocking the new boss's Bentley. Was he trying to get himself killed?!

"Alaric, what the hell are you doing? Get over here now!" Flynt shouted, jabbing an accusing finger at him.

Alaric had just parked his electric scooter when Flynt unleashed a barrage of abuse.

"Damn! Alaric's really in trouble now. Look at Flynt—he's about to lose it!"

"After a dozen complaint calls today, this moron still dares to show up?"

"That's at least a 200 yuan fine. A whole day's wages gone."

Employees whispered among themselves, some barely concealing their glee as they watched.

Several were veterans who'd once worked under Alaric. Seeing him reduced to delivering food alongside them naturally invited mocking remarks.

Alaric had grown accustomed to it.

Even Mr. Justin, who had been observing coldly, shot Alaric a disdainful glance and asked irritably, "Manager Logan, is this one of your employees?"

Flynt immediately sneered, "Sir, since you haven't visited often, allow me to introduce Alaric—our company's former owner. Now? Just a lowly delivery guy."

He emphasized "former owner" with relish, his tone dripping with mockery.

Alaric, oh Alaric, look how far you've fallen. Karma's a b***h, huh?

Mr. Justin's face darkened, his brows knitting together. "Clear out the riffraff. We're here to welcome the new boss."

Then he remembered—Alaric was that down-on-his-luck young man who'd sold the company. Pity someone as important as Mr. Justin wouldn't remember a nobody like him.

With that, Mr. Justin straightened his suit and strode toward the Bentley, all smiles.

Flynt, now emboldened, pointed triumphantly at Alaric. "Alaric, why haven't you cleared out your things yet?"

Alaric rolled his eyes, looking at Flynt like he was an i***t, and spat out, "Dumbass."

The insult echoed through the crowd, leaving everyone stunned.

Flynt exploded. His finger nearly poked Alaric's nose as he shouted, "You bastard! Say that again, I dare you!"

Alaric said with a cold smirk, "Fine, since you asked. Dumbass! You and your whole damn family are dumbasses!"

"Damn it, Alaric! You're finished! You're fired—effective immediately! And you're paying for the company's losses!" Flynt roared, his face twisted with rage, eyes bulging.

This ungrateful fool had no idea who he was messing with!

He better realize—he's no longer the boss of Swift Eats.

How dare he act so damn arrogant?

Just wait till I wreck him!

But before Flynt could say another word—

Suddenly! The Bentley’s door swung open smoothly, revealing an elderly man leaning on a cane, his face dark with anger. "Who dares fire him?" he thundered.

Without hesitation, the old man strode past Mr. Justin, who had been all smiles moments ago, and marched straight toward Alaric under the stunned gazes of everyone present.

He stopped, bowed deeply—every movement radiating deference.

"Young Master, my apologies for the delay," Gideon said humbly.

His voice was quiet, yet it silenced everyone instantly.

Young Master?

The crowd stood frozen in shock!

Alaric, just like that, had become a Young Master?

What the hell was happening?

Mr. Justin's smile faltered as he froze mid-step.

Flynt’s mouth hung open in disbelief before he forced a laugh. "Sir, you must be our new owner? This has to be a joke—Alaric’s just a bottom-rung grunt here. You’ve got the wrong guy."

Gideon’s icy glare cut through him like a knife.

How could a fool like him ever understand?

Mr. Justin, brow furrowed, hurried over with uneasy respect. "Mr. Hale, let’s not joke about this. Perhaps we should discuss this inside?"

As a seasoned businessman, Mr. Justin recognized Gideon instantly—chairman of Nexora Group, a man who wielded godlike influence in Olympus Reach!

Yet Gideon stood unmoving, his piercing gaze sweeping over them. "Do I look like I’m joking?" he snapped. "This man is your new owner!"

No f*****g way.

New owner?

Flynt’s face twisted in disbelief. Even Mr. Justin paled.

"Flynt," Alaric drawled, lips quirking, "wasn’t you just firing me?"

"Alaric! You shitstain! Don’t f*****g call me that!" Flynt exploded, veins bulging.

He hated that nickname more than a knife to the gut.

"Get your ass out of here! And pay up 10 grand for the company’s losses, you leech!" Flynt sneered.

As if he gave a damn. No way this deadbeat could be the new boss.

Not in those rags.

Pathetic.

Alaric kept staring, that infuriating smirk never leaving his face.

"The hell you looking at, shithead? Hand over the cash!" Flynt spat.

"Yeah, I’m staring at a total clown," Alaric shot back, grinning.

"You’re begging for it now," Flynt snarled, laughing coldly. "Firing you would be a mercy."

"I'm the manager here—I have every right to fire any employee under me!" Ohani spat with arrogant confidence.

"Then let me make this clear for you, Ohani," Alaric drawled, leaning casually against his scooter with hands stuffed in his pockets. "You're fired. Get lost."

This i***t still hadn't caught on? Pathetic.

It was only then that Mr. Justin, standing frozen nearby, suddenly connected the dots—his face draining of color.

"Oh god..." Cold sweat drenched his back as realization struck like a thunderbolt. This wasn't just some lowly delivery boy—this was their new boss!

Ohani's face twisted into a grotesque sneer. "What did you just say? You're firing me?" He barked out a disbelieving laugh. "Have you completely lost it?"

Gideon's cane struck the pavement with a sharp crack as he leveled a glacial stare at the insolent manager. "When our young master says you're fired," the elderly man's voice carried lethal quiet, "you're fired."

The air turned to ice.

Ohani's bravado faltered as he finally registered the presence of Nexora's legendary chairman—a man worth billions, Olympus Reach's wealthiest tycoon—standing obediently beside the supposed "delivery boy."

Before he could process this nightmare, Mr. Justin's palm connected with his face in a stinging slap. "You're done, Ohani! Out—now!" the entrepreneur roared, his own career flashing before his eyes.

"B-boss? What the hell?" Ohani clutched his cheek, eyes darting between them like a cornered rat.

"This 'delivery boy' is Alaric Splendor," Mr. Justin hissed through clenched teeth. "Our new owner. His word is law."

The revelation detonated through the crowd like a grenade.

"Impossible!" Ohani's voice cracked. "He's a broke nobody! A worthless—"

"You fool," Mr. Justin cut him off, watching the color drain from his former manager's face as the truth sank in.

Ohani's head swiveled slowly toward Alaric, his expression collapsing like a deflating balloon. The elderly man beside him wasn't just any billionaire—he was the kingmaker of Olympus Reach. And if Gideon addressed someone as "young master"...

"Effective immediately," Alaric straightened, his voice cutting through the silence, "you're terminated."

Ohani stood paralyzed, the cruel irony settling over him. All that gloating, all those threats—and now the tables had turned with devastating finality.

New boss. New rules.

And his ass? Fired.

Ohani collapsed to his knees with a heavy thud, desperately clutching Alaric's leg. "Mr. Splendor, I was too blind to recognize your greatness! I acted like a fool—please don't fire me. Just let me stay, even as a delivery guy. Remember our past working relationship!"

Alaric chuckled darkly. "Ohani, regrets come too late. Would you have spared me if our roles were reversed? You reap what you sow." His words crushed Ohani's last hope.

Turning to the stunned employees, Alaric declared, "I know many of you looked down on me when I hit rock bottom. But starting today—everyone's salary doubles!"

The crowd erupted. "Mr. Splendor, you're a legend!" "We love you, boss!"

His gaze then locked onto a striking woman at the back. "And Lyra will be taking Ohani's managerial position."

Every head snapped toward her. There stood Lyra, her curves accentuated by a sleek black pencil skirt, sheer stockings clinging to toned legs. She stood frozen as Alaric strode toward the waiting Bentley, leaving her breathless.

Lyra hurried after him, bending at the car window—her blouse dipping slightly as she leaned forward—and stammered, "Alaric... I mean, sir. You're serious about promoting me?"

Alaric's eyes flickered toward the glimpse of cleavage before he grinned. "Lyra, doubting yourself?" She'd been loyal, sharp, and strikingly beautiful since his early days. One of the privileges of being in charge.

"I... What if I fail?" she fretted. Her mind reeled—how had Alaric, the supposed bankrupt, become the tycoon buying out the company? Back then, it was a five-person startup. Now annual revenue topped half a million. The takeover must've cost over a million!

"Relax," he soothed. "Ease into it." As the Bentley glided away, Lyra bit her lip, thoughts racing: Who is he really? A billionaire, playing pauper?

Back in the luxury car,

"Young Master, there's an investment project tomorrow where you'll need to meet the investor," Gideon said, his wrinkled face creasing into a smile.

"Not going," Alaric replied flatly, wanting nothing to do with such matters.

I was forced into inheriting the family fortune—don't even think about making me participate.

"Then perhaps you should return the hundred thousand I lent you," Gideon remarked coolly.

Alaric stiffened, his expression flashing with disbelief before he relented. "Fine, fine! I’ll go, happy now?"

Pathetic! A wealthy heir, bowing over a mere hundred thousand. How tragic!

"Very well, Young Master. I’ll fetch you tomorrow," Gideon chuckled.

As soon as Alaric stepped out of the car, a voice full of doubt cut through the air. "Alaric? What are you doing here?"

He whipped around to find Jade staring at him, her eyes showing strange colors. Panic surged through him—damn it, she's about to learn my true identity!