They Hated Me in My First Life, But Now I Have the Love System
Chapter 115 - 115 Trouble

Chapter 115: Trouble Chapter 115: Trouble Then, as the crowd parted, a man flanked by a group of rough looking men and a woman strode forward with an air of authority.

“Who is in charge here?” the woman barked, her sharp voice cutting through the murmurs of the onlookers.

“Get him out here!

I must speak to him now!” One of the servers stepped forward cautiously, his posture alert but controlled.

“What’s the problem?” he asked, his voice steady yet wary.

The woman’s gaze snapped to him, filled with irritation.

“Are you the one in charge?” she demanded, making no effort to soften her tone.

“No,” the man responded coolly.

“But I am the son of the one in charge.” He stood his ground, his arms crossed over his chest.

“My father is old, and I won’t allow you to trouble him with any of this.

Tell me what you need.” His words were firm, his tone carrying an unshakable confidence.

Tension crackled in the air as the woman stared at him, clearly unused to being challenged.

The crowd held its breath, waiting to see how the confrontation would unfold.

“Ebuka, stand down,” a calm yet firm voice emerged from behind the tree.

The old man stepped forward, wiping his hands on his apron as he faced the growing crowd.

His presence, though not physically imposing, carried the weight of experience and wisdom.

“What can I do for you?” he asked, his voice steady.

The woman folded her arms, glaring at him like he was some kind of criminal.

“It’s good that you’re here,” she said, her tone laced with accusation.

“How can you be running a business, making huge profits on our land, and yet you haven’t paid us a single dime?” Her eyes narrowed.

“Doesn’t that make you a thief?” A few of the hoodlums chuckled darkly, as if they already knew where this conversation was headed.

The tension in the air thickened.

The woman’s accusation cut through the air, and the crowd immediately began murmuring amongst themselves.

Some people exchanged uneasy glances, unsure of what to think.

“That’s not right,” a man near the front muttered, shaking his head.

“How can he be making money here without paying for the land?” “Yeah, he should have asked first,” a woman added, crossing her arms.

“It’s someone else’s land, he should’ve known better.” “He’s been making a lot of profit here since yesterday,” another voice chimed in, “but did he really ask permission?” A young man in the crowd scoffed, “So now everyone’s gotta pay for using a public land?

Since when is that how things work around here?” But there were others who frowned, clearly disturbed by the idea of someone taking advantage of the space without acknowledging the owners.

“People work hard for that land,” one older man said quietly.

“Maybe he should give something back.” The murmurs continued to spread, with some people nodding in agreement, while others remained uncertain, unsure of who was truly in the right.

But the old man, having lived long enough to see all kinds of people, remained unfazed.

He had survived worse storms in his life.

Losing his temper now would only make things worse.

With a slow nod, he acknowledged her words.

“I only started selling here yesterday,” he admitted, his voice neither defensive nor fearful.

“I didn’t know this land belonged to you, nor was I aware that I needed to pay a fee.

If that’s the case, then I apologize for the oversight.” He gave a small bow, a sign of humility rather than submission.

His calm response seemed to take the woman off guard for a moment, but the sharp look in her eyes didn’t fade.

She wasn’t here just for an apology, she had an agenda.

When the old man bowed slightly and apologized, admitting he hadn’t known the land belonged to the woman’s family, the crowd’s murmurs grew louder, shifting from judgment to curiosity.

“Wait, he didn’t know?” a man near the front asked, his voice thick with skepticism.

“How could he not know?” “Who would just set up shop without asking first?” another woman whispered, shaking her head.

“Seems fishy.” A few people exchanged doubtful looks.

“He’s probably lying,” a young man muttered, glancing over at the old man.

“But even if he didn’t know, it’s still his responsibility to find out.” “But he seems sincere,” a middle aged woman chimed in, nodding thoughtfully.

“Maybe he really didn’t know.

He doesn’t seem like the type to cause trouble.” “Who just opens up shop like that without checking first?” a man asked again, his voice rising.

“Seems careless.” “You don’t know the whole story,” an older gentleman said to the murmuring crowd.

“People do things differently.

If he didn’t know, that’s just ignorance, not malice.” As the murmurs continued, the tension between those who believed the old man’s apology and those who remained doubtful only grew, but the old man kept his head low, hoping to resolve the matter peacefully.

Nnenna watched in silence, sensing that this situation was far from over.

The woman exchanged glances with her associates and let out a sharp sigh, shaking her head.

Clearly, they weren’t buying the old man’s polite response.

“Stop pretending,” a deep voice finally cut through the murmuring crowd.

A burly man beside the woman stepped forward, his arms crossed over his chest, his stance aggressive.

“The reports we got say you’ve been eyeing this spot for a while.

People told you it belonged to us, yet you went ahead and set up your business here without informing us.” His voice was loud and accusatory, meant to rile up the onlookers.

The old man’s brows furrowed in genuine shock.

Eyeing this place for a while?

Since when?

He had just set up shop yesterday with the help of that kind young girl.

Where was this nonsense coming from?

His mind raced.

Who started such a blatant lie?

He had seen the worst of people in his lifetime, or at least he thought he had.

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