CHAPTER 50: A FAILURE

The executives rose from their seats one by one and began to get out of the room. No one dared speak since Mikhail’s permission to speak was absolute as without it none were allowed to even utter a word.

But as everyone was leaving, one man remained behind. It was Prestor who stayed seated with his head bowed low.

He trembled with rage, his fingers tightly interlocked. The blood rushed in his ears not out of fear, but fury, it was infuriating that they had been instructed not to retaliate against their enemies.

The Baron had infringed upon their business, and to Prestor who was Mikhail’s own nephew, that was unforgivable.

All his life, he had been drilled on the sanctity of their family operations, how vital it was to protect what they built. So hearing the family patriarch decide to let the culprit go was more than infuriating, he felt like it was some kind of betrayal.

As the others exited, a few of them glanced back and whispered, "There he goes again..." It wasn’t uncommon for Prestor to remain after meetings like this, it had practically become a routine where he would try to argue with the Patriarch.

Once the heavy doors sealed shut, Prestor rose and spoke out. "How can you just allow this?" he asked, locking eyes with Mikhail, who remained focused on the open book in front of him.

"I’m not here to defy you," Prestor added quickly, trying to clarify that this wasn’t rebellion. "But I need to understand since it was you who was the one who taught me to never let anyone take away what was rightfully ours. But now... you are letting that man go?"

Mikhail said nothing after hearing those words uttered by his own nephew.

Prestor’s fists clenched tighter. "You look down on me again, don’t you? Fine. Just tell me why you are doing this and give me a reason I can drink away with whiskey and still sleep at night believing it was for the good of the family."

Still, Mikhail gave no response which only made Prestor feel more angry over this as he felt like he was being ignored due to how the Patriarch, his own uncle viewing him to be rather weak.

"If you don’t," Prestor growled, "I swear I’ll handle that bastard myself. I’ll show him just how dangerous the Zorthar can be. I’ll make sure no one ever dares to cross us again."

With a deep sigh, Mikhail rubbed his eyes, visibly irritated. When he finally spoke, it was with the sharpness of a blade. "Even a damn monkey could understand why I did this. But you? My own kin? You are too dense to grasp it. How embarrassing."

Prestor swallowed his pride but stood his ground. "Then spell it out for me, the almighty genius Patriarch of Zorthar," he said bitterly.

"And what makes you think you have the right to demand answers from me?" Mikhail’s voice cut deeper this time, his gaze piercing through Prestor like cold iron. The younger man faltered beneath that glare.

Still, Mikhail continued. "Let me ask you something. Suppose someone rents your property. Then, not only do they refuse to pay rent, but they start subletting that same property to others for profit. What would you do?"

Prestor blinked, confused by the sudden analogy. "What does that have to do with the Baron or our situation?"

"Exactly what I said earlier," Mikhail muttered, shaking his head. "Even a monkey would get it. But here you are, floundering like a subhuman mongrel."

The insult landed hard. Prestor grimaced but answered anyway. "If someone pulled that on me, I would definitely kill them and take my property back... But again, how is that related?"

Mikhail clapped his hands once, it was a single, loud smack that echoed in the room. "There. You have just answered your own damn question. Now get out."

Prestor snapped. "What the fuck?! You’re messing with me again! Why do you hate me so much?! If mom were still alive, she would never have allowed you to treat me this way!"

He continued his outburst, his voice echoing off the walls, until several guards entered to drag him out. Mikhail, unbothered, muttered, "She really should have stopped at four... I don’t know why she decided to bring a fifth one into this world, especially one as brainless as him."

Once Prestor was gone, Mikhail’s demeanor returned to calm. Without looking up, he said, "Keep an eye on that idiot."

From the corner, a figure emerged beside the desk. "Should we just eliminate him?" the man asked.

"No," Mikhail replied calmly. "He may be dumb, but he’s at least consistent with the monthly quotas."

Each month, the executives were required to meet a minimum monetary target. If they fail to do so, they will lose their status. While most exceeded expectations, Prestor always delivered exactly what was needed every month which was never more than the given quota and never less.

"If he ever failed to meet the quota, I’d have considered removing him permanently," Mikhail admitted. "But somehow, he squeezes every last drop of effort out of that brain of his to make ends meet. Of course, his methods are crude and he relies on street thugs and petty threats but it works, barely."

"I’ll assign someone to monitor him closely," the man confirmed.

Mikhail leaned back in his chair, staring into the distance. "He will most likely go after the Baron or maybe even the City Guard since he desperately feels like wanting to prove something."

"To scare the government?" the man guessed.

Mikhail scoffed. "No, he wants to prove to me that he isn’t a failure because he has one of the worst inferiority complexes I have ever seen. He genuinely thinks I hate him and he’s not wrong. But it’s not because he’s weak... It’s because he refuses to grow. He keeps repeating the same idiotic patterns. Like only meeting the quota instead of surpassing it. He is a failure. A failure who refuses to admit he’s a failure."

[To be Continued]