Chapter 4The Freeloader's Folly

Early the next morning, I was woken up by my mom's crying.

I rushed out of my room into the yard, and the sight before me made me gasp.

That originally majestic and imposing Maybach was now plastered with yellowish-brown mud.

All four tires were completely flat, punctured like a honeycomb with an awl.

The car body was splashed with feces and dirty water, emitting a nauseating stench.

Red paint was splashed on the hood, writing the three large words: "Unfilial Son."

My mom sat on the ground, trembling as she cried: "What a sin! What kind of sin is this!"

My dad's face turned green with anger. Grabbing a shovel, he was about to charge out: "I'm going to fight them! This is going too far!"

I grabbed my dad: "Dad! Don't be impulsive! This is a good thing!"

"A good thing?" My dad looked at me in disbelief. "The car is ruined like this and it's a good thing?"

I calmly pulled him back: "Dad, if this car was fine, they'd at most have a moral issue. But now that this car is ruined, it's a legal issue."

At that moment, the yard gate was pushed open.

My uncle's family swaggered in, wearing the smiles of victors.

"Oh, up pretty early." My uncle, hands behind his back, circled the car. "How is it? This is the lesson for your ignorance!"

My cousin sarcastically added from the side: "Some people just need to be educated. Feeling comfortable now?"

My aunt, cracking sunflower seeds, was full of disdain: "It's just a broken Volkswagen. So what if we splashed some shit on it? Just wash it, right? So uptight."

Looking at their faces, I was surprisingly calm.

I took out my phone and dialed 911 right in front of them.

"Hello, I want to report a crime. Someone maliciously destroyed another person's property, and the amount involved is huge."

Hearing me call the police, my uncle's family not only didn't panic, but laughed even louder.

"Call the police? Go ahead! Let's see if the police care about our family matters!" My uncle laughed arrogantly.

Twenty minutes later, a police car parked at the door. Two officers stepped out.

Seeing the tragic state of the yard, the officers also frowned: "Who did this?"

"Officers! I did it!" My aunt actually stepped forward proactively, even lying directly on the ground to throw a tantrum. "But this isn't my fault! It's my nephew being unfilial, leaving us halfway on the road. I was just too angry and splashed some dirty water! This is our Davis family's internal matter, you police have no right to interfere!"

The officers had clearly seen many of these types of disputes and rubbed their temples: "Even though you're relatives, you can't do this. This car looks pretty new; washing it will cost quite a bit, right?"

Hearing this, my aunt immediately climbed up from the ground: "Wash what? It's just a broken car! Twenty bucks max! I'll just pay him twenty bucks, right?"

The officer looked at me: "Young man, since you're family, do you think we can mediate this? Have them pay some cleaning fees and the cost to patch the tires, and let's consider it settled. After all, it's the New Year, going to jail doesn't sound good."

Hearing this, my uncle became even more full of himself.

He felt he had won.

The law couldn't touch him, and the police were on his side.

"Did you hear that? The officers said it's a family matter!" My uncle pointed at my nose, spit flying. "Leo Davis, what else you got? Hurry up and kneel down to admit your mistake, or I'll smash this car today!"

I looked at the officer and said calmly: "Officer, I do not accept mediation."

"Hey! You don't know what's good for you, do you?" My uncle was completely enraged.

To establish dominance in front of the police, and to completely suppress me, he suddenly rushed to the corner and grabbed the shovel from yesterday.

"I'll show you not accepting! I'll show you calling the police!"

My uncle raised the shovel and smashed it hard against the Maybach's front windshield.

Crash!

A loud noise.

The glass shattered, spiderweb cracks instantly covering the entire window.

This loud crash stunned everyone.

The officers' expressions changed.

And I smiled.

My uncle stepped on the filth-covered hood, pointing the shovel at my nose: "You refuse a toast only to be forced to drink a forfeit! Today I'm going to smash this broken car, let's see what you can do to me! I am the law!"

Under his feet, the Maybach logo covered in red paint faintly glinted with a cold light in the sun.

Crack.

That was the sound of glass shattering.