Noonday Visitor
It was noon the next day.
Lawson was back in his usual spot—same alley, same cracked brick wall, same broken-down trash bins cooking in the heat. He wore the same outdated railroad worker uniform and squatted in his signature pose, arms dangling over his knees while one foot bounced lazily.
Just then, a tall, lean man came walking down the alley.
He wore a tight black tank top, Nike shorts, and athletic sneakers. His physique was clean-cut—athletic, but not bulky—and his jawline was sharp enough to cut glass. He looked like someone who didn’t belong in a place like this.
As he passed, he casually lifted his sunglasses just a bit and glanced toward Lawson. His eyes briefly shimmered with a soft golden glow.
Lawson didn’t notice. He remained motionless, his eyes low, foot still bouncing.
A moment passed.
Lawson finally gave his chipped ceramic bowl a casual shake and said, “Spare some change, good sir? Haven’t eaten all day.”
The man stopped.
“I’m Brian,” he said calmly. “One of the senior members of the Humble Organization. I’m here on assignment.”
Lawson raised his eyes, confused. “Huh? I’m just a broke, ordinary guy trying to get by. What could someone like me possibly have to do with your organization? You sure you’ve got the right person?”
Brian gave a faint smile.
“Yesterday, one of our businesses—a massage parlor—filed a report. Said a customer received two hours of our most… specialized services and walked out without paying. Not only that, but he also tricked our masseuse out of all her tip money before leaving.”
Lawson blinked and tilted his head. He seemed to realize something but kept his act straight.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. If you’ve got money to give, I’ll take it. If not, kindly move along. I’m trying to run a business here.”
He lifted his chipped bowl again and gave it a gentle shake.
A soft golden glow shimmered from within.
The Golden Light That Failed
The two of them stood there, unmoving. Ten… maybe twenty seconds passed. Nothing happened.
Brian gave a small, knowing smile—like he’d already expected this outcome.
Lawson, on the other hand, frowned. He glanced at his bowl, then back at Brian. He shook it again, harder this time. The golden glow grew brighter, warmer, more pronounced. But Brian just kept watching, completely unbothered.
Lawson gritted his teeth.
He gathered every ounce of mental energy he had. Every brain cell, every last drip of inner power was focused on the bowl. His hands trembled. The glow intensified until it looked almost blinding.
But still… nothing.
Brian didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink. Didn’t even move his hands. His eyes remained fixed on the glowing bowl, calm and unfazed.
Lawson’s breath turned shallow. He was panting like someone who had just sprinted ten miles. His head started to spin, his body felt light. That same dizziness you get when your blood sugar crashes hit him all at once.
Then Brian spoke—calm, cold, and to the point.
“Alright. Let’s talk about your debt.”
“The room fee… plus the tip… plus the cash you stole from our massage technician’s purse… plus the penalty. That adds up to about a thousand bucks. Hand it over now, and I’ll pretend this never happened. Just a warning, since it’s your first offense.”
Lawson immediately shook his head, breathing hard.
“No way. You’re not getting a cent from me. I don’t care who you are.”
Brian’s smile faded.
“Well then,” he said, voice dropping into something quieter—sharper.
“If that’s how you want it… I’ll take it by force. One way or another.”