Chapter 2

It all made sense now. This had to be the scumbag's mother.

Birds of a feather really did flock together.

I immediately killed the engine and stepped out. "This is my private parking space. Even when your car gets here, it's not allowed in."

The woman rolled her eyes dramatically and scoffed, turning her back on me without saying a word.

I was practically trembling with rage. Before I could back my car into the stall, an SUV roared down the ramp and swung straight into my spot, slipping past the woman.

I didn't hesitate. I pulled my car right up to the nose of their SUV, completely boxing them in, shut off the ignition, locked the doors, and started walking away.

"Hey, you little punk! You did that on purpose!"

A man in his early thirties slammed his door and stomped right up into my face!

"Who the hell are you calling a punk?!"

"I'm calling you a punk! You've got a death wish or something? Move your damn car right now!"

His sheer audacity was almost comical. "Since you love my parking stall so damn much, you can stay parked there forever."

I had zero interest in arguing with an idiot and turned to leave. He lunged forward, grabbing my jacket, while the old woman rushed over, spewing a torrent of filthy curses.

Without wasting my breath, I dialed 911 again. It ended up being the exact same officer from that morning.

I gestured toward the scene. "Officer, look at this. It's my deeded space. Not only did they use human bodies to block it, but they're also getting physical!"

"Who's getting physical?!" the woman shrieked.

"Whether hands were thrown or not, blocking a private stall is illegal," the officer said sternly. "Move the vehicle immediately."

The old woman remained defiant: "We got here first! Why should we give it up?!"

"It belongs to him on paper. It doesn't matter who got here first! Move it, now!"

After a stern dressing-down from the cop, the man finally backed his SUV out, grumbling under his breath, allowing me to park properly.

As they left, the old woman shot me a venomous glare, practically burning holes through my skull.

I casually flashed her the middle finger. Her face twisted into an ugly, furious shade of green.

The rest of the night was dead quiet. But right at midnight, my phone buzzed with an urgent notification—someone had triggered my vehicle's proximity sensors.

Sure enough, a dark figure crept out from the shadows, gripping a metal key, and methodically circled my car, carving a fresh gouge into every single panel.

To top it off, he kicked the headlights viciously, shattering the casing completely.

Tracking him through the concealed cameras I had set up earlier, I watched him walk all the way toward the elevator lobby. The moment he stepped inside the cab, assuming he was in the clear, he pulled off his mask.

Got you, you son of a bitch!

Except... it was an elderly man!

What absolute cowards. They actually sent their old man to do their dirty work.

Without a moment's hesitation, I exported the video and dropped it straight into the community WhatsApp group. The chat exploded instantly!

"Holy crap! Bro, you're getting a brand new car out of this!"

"What a scumbag! The footage is crystal clear. With that amount of property damage, he's looking at real felony charges!"

"Did you piss off a psycho or something, man?!"

Right then, a WhatsApp message from an unfamiliar number popped up. One look at the profile picture told me it was the son!

Before I could reply, my screen was bombarded not with an apology, but with a wall of vile, unhinged abuse.

"You piece of shit, I'll fucking end you—"

I didn't even get mad. I quietly took screenshots of every single message while dialing the police. When the officers arrived at his apartment door and banged on it for ten straight minutes, the coward refused to open up.

It wasn't until the police threatened to bring in a locksmith that the door finally clicked open.

The moment he saw me standing behind the cops, another curse flew out of his mouth. I didn't hold back either: "I'm not settling. I want full charges pressed. Put him behind bars!"

The insurance adjuster had already quoted the preliminary repair estimate at twelve thousand dollars. That was more than enough to land him in serious legal trouble.

To my surprise, the guy was a complete sociopath. "Where's your proof, huh?! A blurry video doesn't prove that's my family!"

I anticipated he'd play dumb. I smoothly pulled up my phone and played the entire, crystal-clear 4K sequence right in front of his face.

His expression instantly soured.

"I knew a rat like you would try to deny it, so I had the entire path rigged with cameras," I said coldly. "The elevator footage was provided directly by building management. Get ready to do some time."

His face shifted through several shades of pale before he threw his hands up in mock indifference:

"What does that have to do with me? The guy scratching your car is my dad. He's over seventy years old! Go ahead, arrest him! Lock him up! See if I care!"

With that, he stepped aside, and an old man charged out from the living room, pointing a trembling finger in my face: "Yeah, I scratched it! So what?! Arrest me if you've got the guts!"