Chapter 830 - Quite Good At Pretending

Two burly men were holding another man's hand on the table, while the other man held a knife, poised to stab the hand at any moment.

They seemed surprised that someone would barge into the shop at this moment, and all four pairs of eyes turned to Roy as he entered.

"Who are you?" The man with the knife wielded it skillfully, a glint of silver dancing on his fingertips, making it almost impossible to see the outline of the blade.

Another person might have been truly afraid and turned away as if nothing happened. But who was Roy? He had been living on the streets since childhood, and he had seen more than one or two people who played with knives like this. He knew that although playing with knives looked cool, they had little actual killing power. Holding a knife to someone's neck would be more threatening than waving it around like this.

But if he didn't see the person being restrained, he wouldn't have bothered with this. Who would let these three men look like they were about to destroy that man's hand? And Roy had come here this time to ask this man to help him make a new ring. How could he watch his hand be destroyed?

"I'm here to buy something. And who are you?" 

The man with the knife looked him up and down, but couldn't discern anything about him from the hat, glasses, and scarf he was wearing. But he knew one thing: anyone who came to such a small shop to buy something couldn't be a wealthy or influential figure.

Thinking this, he relaxed. Just a pauper, nothing impressive no matter how intimidating he looked.

"Hurry up and get lost, can't you see we're busy here? Or do you want to pay off his debt for him?"

Roy's eyes narrowed dangerously behind his sunglasses, the term "get lost" was something he hadn't heard since he stepped foot in Hollywood. It might appear in lines, but no one had shouted it at him.

That one sentence ignited his anger. Should he admire the other's ability to provoke?

"Fine, how much does he owe you?" He crossed his arms, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

"Oh, quite the actor!" The man with the knife continued to twirl the blade rapidly between his fingertips. If Roy hadn't announced himself as a customer, seeing his current demeanor might have given him pause, wondering if some important figure had arrived.

But now, would someone who came to a small shop like this to buy jewelry worry about his background? If it weren't for the fact that the man in front of him looked tall and tough, he would have thrown him out long ago.

"Kid, do you know who's standing in front of you? I'm being nice and advising you to leave peacefully, not because I'm afraid of you!"

At the mention of "afraid," the corner of the man's eye twitched imperceptibly. The man in front of him looked at least twenty centimeters taller and coupled with his intimidating aura, it did give him some pause.

He had been in this business for so long, he still had some insight. He didn't want to make too much trouble over collecting debts for others, otherwise, he'd end up back in prison. After the last time he came out, he spent so much time and effort trying to reclaim his territory. Now, he just wanted to make some money!

If it were him from before, how could he tolerate such arrogance from a pauper?

Roy glanced at the man's hand, twirling the knife with so much pleasure, and chuckled. "How much does he owe?"

The people present were all stunned. "What? Are you really going to pay for him?"

"Let's hear it first." Roy wasn't a fool. If it was a sum in the hundreds of thousands or millions, he wouldn't pay for someone else. But if it wasn't too much, he didn't mind extending a hand. After all, the designer was someone Laila liked. If he watched the man's hand get ruined, he didn't know where else he could find a ring she would like.

The man with the knife exchanged a glance with the two burly men. "A total of $120,000! If you want to pay, then pay up!"

The man being held down struggled, "Don't listen to him, I only borrowed $20,000! And I've already paid back $10,000!"

"I don't care if you've paid back or not. After so many years, don't you know what interest is?" The man with the knife reached out to strike.

Roy took a step forward, easily grabbing his hand before he could hit the man.

"Alright, it's just 120,000, right? I'll pay for him." With that, he took out his checkbook, swiftly wrote a number, and signed his flamboyant signature.

"Is this real?" The man with the knife reached out to take it.

Roy pulled the check back. "Show me the IOU first."

"How do I know if this is real or not?" If someone could casually produce $120,000, would they come to a place like this?

"This has the bank's phone number on it. You can call anytime to verify it. And I'll stay here for a while today. If you can't withdraw the money, feel free to come find me."

The man with the knife looked at the check in his hand, feeling that it might be real after all. Perhaps it was genuine. If he could successfully collect the debt, he could earn quite a bit.

"Alright, here's the IOU. If you dare to make it fake, my men won't let you off! Remember that!" He tossed the IOU over and snatched the check, leaving with his two henchmen.

The shop finally quieted down.

"Thank you, I'll pay you back." Bernie rubbed his arm, which had almost been ruined, and apologized to Roy. $120,000 was no small sum for him. If he had the money, he wouldn't have been threatened to have his hand destroyed just now.

Roy just smiled and didn't say anything, looking around the shop.

Bernie hurriedly said, "You can take anything you like, consider it as me repaying the interest first."

There were quite a few pieces of jewelry in the shop, and the styles were good, but most of them were not very expensive materials. Most of them were silver, and there were very few gold pieces, even more destitute than when he had come a few years ago. Didn't he have diamond rings for sale last time?

"Are these all your designs?"

"Yes." Bernie was cleaning up the mess in the shop and, upon hearing Roy's question, smiled confidently. "These are all my proud works. They may not be very valuable, but they sell well."

"Heh." Roy didn't believe it. If they sold well, he wouldn't have almost had his hand ruined just now. But he wasn't the kind of person to dwell on such things: "Why do you owe so much money?" If it weren't for being forced, no one would borrow such scary amounts of interest.

Bernie paused in his cleaning. "My mother has been unwell for a long time and needs a lot of money for treatment."