Fat Lawler furrowed his brow, deep in thought. He didn't recall the name Wesley Mebane.

"I've got my subordinates handling my business," he replied matter-of-factly. "We give out loans to a lot of folks daily. How could I be expected to remember them all? But why are you asking about this?" "Wesley is a worthless gambler and a real jerk. But, well, he happens to be my..." Daniel paused for a moment, then continued. "He's my wife's brother-in-law."

"Your wife?" Fat Lawler asked.

"Exactly." Daniel nodded with a hint of a smile. "He had the audacity to use my wife as collateral. He even suggested that your subordinates could have her if he couldn't pay up."

Fat Lawler's expression grew serious. "How did this happen?"

Just then, someone whispered in his ear, and he had a sudden realization. A cold gleam flashed in his eyes.

"So, you're the one who had my two subordinates arrested that day!"

Daniel remained composed. "They caused trouble for my wife. I showed mercy by having them handed over to the police."

"Mr. Quimby, you..."

Fat Lawler's attention spiked. Had Daniel brought the police?

With a signal, his subordinates, who surrounded him, swiftly drew their guns. The dark muzzles aimed at Daniel's head, and his expression remained cool, his eyes commanding.

"Fat Lawler, I'm here to talk. No need to worry about the police," Daniel reassured.

Fat Lawler glanced around and gestured for his subordinates to lower their weapons.

Soon, someone brought Wesley's promissory note to the table. The document clearly stated that if Wesley failed to pay, Maisie would take the blame, subject to Fat Lawler's whims.

"This is the promissory note. Do you want me to dispose of it, Mr. Quimby?" Fat Lawler asked.

"I'll give you the 4,000,000 dollars," Daniel said coldly. "I'll wire the funds once I get your confirmation."

"This isn't your decision." Fat Lawler scoffed. "It goes against our agreement. The promissory note serves as proof. If I do as you ask, won't I be reneging on my word? How can I maintain my reputation? "Besides, it's not just 4,000,000 dollars anymore. It's been dragging on, and with interest, it's now 4,700,000 dollars."

Daniel's eyes dimmed. In just a few days, the debt had grown by 700,000 dollars. This wasn't lending loans-it was blackmail.

"Mr. Quimby, money is secondary," Fat Lawler explained. "I decline mainly because accepting your terms now would set an undesirable precedent. Others will expect the same leniency if I agree to this for you. My operation would descend into chaos."

"Hmm! Fat Lawler..." Daniel advanced, towering over the older man. The proximity felt imposing. "Rules are dead, but humans are alive. Consider this: how long can you sustain this business? Can it truly provide you with enduring wealth?"

"What are you getting at?" Fat Lawler asked.

Daniel chuckled and took a seat on the couch, radiating confidence. "Providing loans and gambling are illegal in Centrolis. Earnings may be lucrative, but every penny comes with the specter of the law. "What if I presented a solution that legitimizes your wealth, surpassing your current gains? Would you still demand 4,700,000 dollars from me?"

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