Live Streaming Academy

Chapter 268: Trouble and Troubled [Bonus Chapter PS]

Solomon pushed himself out of the booth.

Jasmine peeked out from the kitchen doors, her eyes wide with alarm. She took a step toward the dining area, but Solomon immediately held up a hand.

"Go back inside the kitchen, Jas," Solomon ordered, his voice dangerously low. "Do not let anyone else come out here."

Solomon marched toward the front entrance. He found half a dozen men wearing tailored black suits and dark sunglasses standing in the foyer. The young waiter lay curled on the checkered floorboards, coughing up blood and clutching his nose.

"What is going on here?" Solomon demanded, crossing his arms over his hoodie.

The lead man in the suit scoffed loudly, adjusting the cuffs of his expensive jacket. "This lowly, unawakened trash had the nerve to tell me the diner was not open for business yet. So, I punched him in the face to teach him some customer service."

The five thugs standing behind him chuckled maliciously at the explanation.

Solomon stared at the leader’s smug face, his silver eyes completely devoid of emotion. "What exactly is so funny about that?"

The suited man stopped laughing. He took two aggressive steps forward, leaning in close, and placed a heavy hand directly onto Solomon’s shoulder. He inspected the teenager’s casual hoodie and jeans with obvious disdain.

"You do not look like an employee here, kid," the man noted. He tilted his head. "Are you a customer?"

Before Solomon could answer, the leader spun around and pointed furiously at the bleeding waiter on the floor. "If this place is not open yet, then why the fuck is there a customer sitting in the booths?!"

The man reared his leg back, preparing to deliver a brutal kick directly into the fallen employee’s face.

Solomon moved instantly. He snapped his leg upward, intercepting the strike mid-air and blocking the heavy boot with his own shin. He did not even flinch at the impact.

"Get up and go to the kitchen," Solomon instructed the terrified waiter, keeping his eyes locked on the suited thugs. "I will handle this."

The waiter scrambled to his feet and ran toward the back doors.

The leader turned his attention back to Solomon. He scoffed repeatedly, hurling a string of vile insults. Enraged by the blatant disrespect, the suited man pulled his arm back and threw a vicious right hook aimed squarely at Solomon’s jaw.

Solomon simply raised his left hand and caught the incoming fist, his fingers clamping down like an iron vice.

The loud smack of flesh hitting palm echoed through the foyer. The leader’s eyes widened in sheer shock, completely unable to pull his fist free. The thugs standing behind him shifted nervously, surprised that he could effortlessly block a grown man’s punch.

Solomon squeezed his fingers tightly and violently twisted the man’s wrist outward.

The leader let out an agonizing scream. His knees buckled instantly, and he collapsed onto the checkered floorboards, crying out in pain as the joints in his arm popped loudly.

Solomon pulled his right leg back, fully preparing to deliver a devastating kick directly into the screaming man’s face to shatter his jaw.

"Solomon, stop!"

Johan Ketzer rushed out from the kitchen doors, shouting his son’s name in sheer panic.

Solomon froze. He slowly lowered his leg and released the man’s twisted wrist. He turned around and looked at his father.

"Go back inside the kitchen, Dad," Solomon requested calmly, stepping between his father and the recovering thugs. "I will take care of these guys."

"No, Solomon," Johan replied, his voice trembling heavily. He looked down at the floorboards, completely avoiding his son’s gaze. "I am the one who called them here."

Solomon blinked, entirely confused by the statement. "What do you mean you called them here?"

"They are loan sharks," Johan admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I am selling the diner. I am selling the convenience shop. And our house too."

Solomon’s heart plummeted into his stomach. A wave of cold shock washed over him, completely paralyzing his thoughts. He stared at his father, his mind struggling to process the devastating revelation.

"Why... why would you do that?" Solomon finally managed to ask, his voice cracking slightly.

"We still have to pay off the loans we took out to fund your initial training gear and metropolitan living expenses," Johan confessed, tears welling up in his eyes. "We also have to cover the exorbitant legal fees and the breach-of-contract penalties we incurred when you were sued by all those major guilds and elite corporations."

Solomon was utterly baffled. "You told me the remaining debt was incredibly small! You told me it was almost completely paid off, and that all the legal cases were officially settled!"

Johan squeezed his eyes shut, a tear slipping down his cheek. "We lied to you, Solomon. We knew that if you found out the true magnitude of the debt, you would end up doing dangerous things. You would have risked your life taking suicidal mercenary contracts just to make the money back."

Johan finally looked up, meeting his son’s silver eyes. The sheer, overwhelming grief etched into his father’s face broke Solomon’s heart.

"I already lost one son to this brutal world," Johan choked out, his voice breaking completely. "I absolutely refuse to lose another one."

Solomon felt a lump form in his throat. "Why would you sell everything for me? Where will you and Mom live? Where will Jasmine go?"

"We originally came to this city hoping to build a better life for our children," Johan explained, wiping his face with his apron. "But this city has given us nothing but absolute hell. We lost your older brother. Everything we worked so hard to build was destroyed. All the promises of wealth and happiness were completely fake and empty."

Johan let out a tired, broken sigh. "We only remained in Blue York to support your dream. But now that you are officially enrolled in the Live Streaming Academy, and your future is finally secured, we have no reason to stay in this city anymore. Once the debts are cleared, we are going to pack whatever we have left and return to our old farming village."

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