After getting a gig as an assistant to my favorite influencer, I discovered he had two faces.

To the rich, he was a bootlicker, calling everyone "sir" this and "Mr. That."

To regular people, he was condescending, calling them "nobodies" and "losers."

On camera, he'd call me "buddy" and praise my hard work. Off camera, he cursed me out, saying I didn't deserve to eat and was societal trash.

Disappointed, I quit. But then he tried to dock my pay.

I didn't argue. I just turned and got into an extended-wheelbase Rolls-Royce.

Perfect timing. Wasn't he trying to score an interview with the heir living in that ridiculous Beverly Hills mansion?

Let's see how he licks my boots.

…

"What are you looking at? Do it again! I'm gonna kick your food over again! I haven't eaten, how dare you eat?"

In the studio, Jason Vance, the influencer with millions of followers, knocked my lunch container right out of my hands.

Seeing the food scattered on the floor, I seethed.

When I didn't apologize and just glared at him, he pointed at my nose and continued his tirade:

"You piece of garbage! In this whole team, you're the only one without a clue! Didn't you see nobody else is eating? If I wasn't generous enough to give you a job, you'd be fighting dogs for scraps under an overpass by now!"

Hearing his condescending tone, I wanted to slap him hard.

It was already 1 PM! He'd eaten earlier and wasn't hungry, finding time to flirt with another female streamer, but completely deaf to everyone else's stomachs growling as they chugged water bottle after water bottle.

He's a grown man. If he doesn't eat, does that mean no one else can?

We're all just working here. Who does he think he is?

I wasn't going to put up with it, and I didn't want to!

Shoving his hand away, I went to grab another lunch container.

Seeing my defiance, Jason blew up:

"What the f—, are you deaf? I told you not to eat! You lowlife trash, you still dare to eat! I'm gonna teach you a lesson!"

He moved to kick the food again, but I saw it coming and sidestepped.

He, however, couldn't stop his momentum and took a tumble, landing flat on the floor like a clumsy mutt.

I clutched my stomach, laughing hysterically, which infuriated Jason even more.

He scrambled up, pulled out a notebook, and started writing me up to dock my pay.

This was his M.O. Anyone in the department who crossed him or displeased him got noted down.

Come bonus or payday, he'd deduct amounts one by one.

The worst time, he docked someone's entire month's salary.

He knew this, expecting me to apologize and beg, figuring everyone has family to support.

I rolled my eyes at him and took a big bite of my food.

His hand paused, then he yelled at the top of his lungs.

"You, Kevin Riley, you're fired! Get the hell out of here now!"

I quickly covered my lunch container, worried his spit might fly in.

What if I ate it and became an ungrateful jerk like him?

The rest of the team looked at me worriedly. Jason was basically the petty king in this agency.

His word was law, and he held grudges.

Anyone fired by him would have their reputation trashed, making it impossible to find work in the online media industry again.

Hearing this, my buddy Mike, who I got along with, suddenly jumped out to defend me:

"Bro, Jason, Kevin's just new here. Please, cut him some slack this once. Jobs are hard to find right now, and he's got bills to pay. I'll keep an eye on him for you."

"Fine. Lick the rice off my shoe. If he licks it clean, I'll let him stay!"

Jason pointed at his expensive designer leather shoes, smirking down at me contemptuously.

I remained unmoved, didn't even look up.

Watching an idiot wasn't as good as eating.

He got flustered and yelled at Mike:

"If he won't lick it, then you do it!"

A vein pulsed on my forehead. I slammed my lunch container down onto his pricey shoe.

He wanted to show off his thousand-dollar kicks, right? Fine, let him show them off like this!

Jason jumped up and down, screaming:

"You motherf—! You chose the hard way! Can you even afford to replace these, you broke loser?"

As he said this, his fist came flying.

I pushed Mike aside and raised my hand to counter.

Suddenly, a familiar voice sounded from behind me.

I turned, making eye contact with my dad's Executive Assistant.

2

"Kevin, hurry up and meet Mr. Davies! This is our company's biggest advertiser!"

As soon as the overweight agency owner's voice rang out, Jason Vance, who had been so arrogant moments before, completely transformed.

He quickly retracted his foot and then clapped me on the shoulder like we were old pals:

"Good work, buddy. Take the team and go eat first. Don't starve yourselves for me, you guys are my A-team."

Buddy? Freaking buddy? I almost threw up the food I just ate.

His words did bring a flicker of joy to the team members' faces; they were eager to grab their lunches and leave.

But my expression remained dark, and I didn't move.

Jason's eyes turned icy, but he controlled his temper, adjusted my collar, and whispered menacingly, so only I could hear:

"Don't get any funny ideas. If you screw things up with my sponsor, I'll make you regret it."

I scoffed, shrugged off his hand, and walked straight towards Mr. Davies.

My father always told me not to use power to oppress others, to maintain compassion.

He even suggested I come here, saying an influencer agency was a good place to see all walks of life, a place for me to gain experience.

But facing scum like this? I was going to use power to crush him. Consider it pest control for the public good!

Before I took more than a few steps, Mike was pushed forward.

He grabbed my arm and pleaded softly:

"Kevin, man, I'm begging you, just bear with it. I need this job. My mom's sick, and it's tough for grads to find work right now!"

Seeing his anxious expression, the words revealing my identity died on my lips, washed away by the sight of his large teardrops.

Mike's hands were trembling: "Please, I really need the money!"

My feelings were complicated. I wanted to pat his shoulder, but Jason bumped him aside.

As Jason passed me, his tone was contemptuous:

"You think losers like you can fight me? How naive!"

"Kevin Riley, you just wait. When I get back, I'll deal with you properly!"

Watching his retreating back, I ground my back teeth until they squeaked.

Losers?

Wasn't he also from a single-parent home, clawing his way up step by step?

Now that he'd made it, profiting from the internet boom, he thought he was high and mighty?

The internet really has made stars out of too many undeserving people.

Mike wiped his tears and tried to smooth things over in a weak voice:

"Kevin, that's just life. Yeah, he has a bad temper, but he pulls huge numbers. Working on his team, if we push hard, we can still make good money. Let's just endure it. He'll cool down when he's in a better mood!"

Others murmured their agreement in low voices:

"Yeah, the economy's bad, jobs are scarce. Let's not be impulsive!"

Saying this, they bent over their now-cold lunches and scarfed them down.

Seeing this scene made my eyes sting with anger. I walked out immediately to find Mr. Davies.

Heading towards the parking garage entrance, I saw Jason obsequiously opening the car door for him.

His smile was sickeningly fawning, crinkling the corners of his eyes into ridiculous shapes.

I shivered, shaking off the goosebumps. I'd met plenty of crass people, but someone who could put on such an act was a first!

I honestly didn't know how I ever thought he had culture and refinement.

How, from the list my father gave me, I'd chosen him to be an assistant for.

Turns out, demystification is life's greatest lesson.

Whatever Mr. Davies said, Jason just bowed and nodded, like the perfect student.

Even more absurdly, as the car started rolling, he jogged alongside it, waving goodbye enthusiastically.

Only when the black Rolls-Royce disappeared around the corner did he straighten up.

When he saw me, a flash of embarrassment crossed Jason's face.

Quickly, his gaze sharpened as he asked me:

"What did you just see!"

"I saw you acting like a dog in front of a rich guy. No, actually, worse than a dog!"

I knew exactly what he wanted me to say, but right now, I just wanted to provoke him.

Hopefully, he'd lose his cool and hit me, then it would just be self-defense!

Clearly, it worked as expected.

Jason's face fell, and he threw a punch straight at me.

This was the chance I was waiting for. With a slight turn of my head, I sent a fist straight towards his face.

Could this weakling compare to me, someone who'd trained in Krav Maga since childhood?

He was stunned by the hit and stumbled backward, landing hard on the pavement.

Confirming there were no cameras around, I punched him again, this time on the left cheek.

He clutched his face, yelling in pain, but could only roar helplessly:

"You son of a bitch, you dare hit me! Just wait and see how I deal with you!"

I ripped the lanyard with my ID badge from my neck and slapped it across his face:

"Screw you! A lowlife like you dares to talk about dealing with me? Let me tell you, grandpa's done! I quit!"

Hearing this, he wasn't angry; instead, he laughed out loud:

"Fine! You walk out that door, and I'll make sure you never work in this industry again!"

3

That kind of threat might work on others, but to me, it was a joke.

My family's Riley Enterprises is top five on the wealth charts, with complex holdings across various sectors. Even this influencer agency is majority-owned by Riley.

He thought he could deal with me? He just picked a fight with the wrong person.

Before leaving, I had to grab Mike. Otherwise, knowing Jason's petty and vengeful nature, Mike would definitely suffer.

Sure enough, a threatening voice echoed from behind me.

"Kevin Riley, you can leave, but can Mike leave? How you treated me, that's how I'll treat him!"

His infuriating words sent adrenaline surging through me. I couldn't resist turning back and landing another punch.

This time, I finally knocked out one of his teeth.

…

"You're saying you're Richard Riley's son? Your dad... your dad... is really him?"

Back at my place, after I told Mike my identity, he asked disbelievingly several times. Hearing the same answer each time, he let out an excited shriek.

"Kevin, no, Mr. Riley! This place is hell. Can you... can you get everyone else out too?"

On that note, I leaned in and whispered a plan in his ear.

Mike nodded vigorously and went off to talk to the other team members.

The online platform competition is fierce, with too many people scrambling for a piece of the pie.

Even Jason Vance, a top influencer, wasn't immune to slumps in engagement.

With his numbers looking weak this week, hearing Mike's proposal would surely tempt him.

After all, who could refuse a collaboration, a "crossover," with the "heir" of the wealthy family he so admired?

Especially when the interview location was a mega-mansion valued at tens of millions?

Every part of this screamed viral potential!

"Good job! Don't worry, if this video blows up, I'll definitely give you a cut."

Jason, Mike, and the team were coming out of the office just as I was leaving with my backpack.

Mike caught my eye when Jason wasn't looking and gave me a subtle nod, signaling success.

The next second, my burner phone received a friend request notification.

【Hello, Mr. Riley Jr., this is Jason Vance. Please accept my request~】

That "Mr. Riley Jr." just oozed subservience.

I actually preferred his arrogant self from before, calling me a loser and social trash…

Just as I was about to tap accept, my phone was slapped out of my hand, shattering the screen.

Jason stepped on it, grinding it under his heel, his tone smug:

"Weren't you leaving? Consider this an advance payment on the interest!"

I found it hilarious. If he knew he'd just destroyed his only line of communication with the "heir" he worshipped, would he still look so smug?

Too bad I wasn't planning on revealing the twist just yet.

"Oh, right, you have to leave the stuff in your bag behind too!"

With that, a strong tug ripped the backpack off my shoulder, and the Patek Philippe box inside tumbled out.

Everyone gasped. This item clearly didn't match my supposed status.

Jason had already pulled out his phone and was livestreaming:

"Kevin Riley, how does a working stiff like you have a watch worth hundreds of thousands? Where did this come from?"

The live comments instantly flooded with accusations: "Thief!"

A few speculated if I might be a rich kid, but their comments were drowned out by the accusers!

Only Mike, who knew the truth, stepped up to defend me:

"That's Kevin's. Don't make accusations without proof."

This provoked Jason's sarcastic retort:

"I don't have proof? Then let him prove where he got the money to buy the watch! Why does the watch I 'lost' look exactly like this one?"

His words were cleverly phrased, not directly accusing me of theft, but planting seeds of suspicion.

Even the female streamer beside him chimed in snidely:

"Wearing $50 shoes, clothes from who knows where, cheap glasses... if someone like that can afford a six-figure watch, then everyone here should be millionaires by tomorrow!"

Before I came here, my dad had specifically altered my public records. Anyone checking would only find I came from a very ordinary family.

And to fit the role, my clothes were custom-made, deliberately avoiding large logos.

This watch was actually a 22nd birthday present from my mom yesterday; I hadn't even taken it out yet.

Even if I said these things, nobody would believe me, just like showing a receipt wouldn't easily prove my innocence.

This "prove yourself" trap was exactly the pit Jason had dug for me.

Seeing me just stand there dumbfounded, Mike got anxious and nudged me:

"What are you standing there for, man? Kevin, call your dad! Get him down here! Once he shows up, everything will be cleared up. Standing there like that makes you look guilty!"

Hearing this, Jason bent over laughing.

"Are you asking him to call his construction worker dad? Wouldn't his dad showing up just prove the watch doesn't belong? Mike, you're not helping him, you're burying him!"

Mike's face flushed red.

"You don't know crap! Kevin's dad is the Chairman!"

His words were met with a brief, stunned silence, followed by thunderous laughter.

"Whoa, you think just 'cause they have the same last name, he's the Chairman's son? Nice try trying to latch onto someone famous!"

The live comments were exploding with "LOLOLOLOL!"

Jason deliberately took out another phone and held it provocatively in front of me.

"Since Mike insists your dad's the Chairman, go on, give him a call."

"Fine!"

As I reached for the phone, he deliberately pulled it back in a circle, like teasing a dog.

"Nah, I don't believe you, and I'm not lending you my phone! If you're really the Chairman's son, I'll eat my own shoe!"

But the next second.

Someone in the crowd suddenly yelled.

"The Chairman's here! Richard Riley is really here!"

Jason's face changed, and he looked back in alarm.