Shepherd's Revenge: Rewriting a Business Empire

At seven in the evening, Summit Highway is fully closed in both directions. I'm working through the night to move my flock when a pink Mercedes G-Wagon plows straight through the barricade at the temporary roadblock. As a result, 29 Suffon breeding sheep, each wearing a specially assigned identification tag, are crushed to death on the spot. Cecilia Shaw holds her nose as she gets out of her car. She kicks aside a sheep that is still twitching and says, "Ugh, this sucks! How dare these worthless sheep block my way? Get rid of them now!" I stare at the pool of blood on the ground as I speak. "You plow through a barricade during a road closure and run over my sheep, killing them. Not only are you not offering to compensate me, but you also tell me to get rid of them?" Cecilia sizes me up with a look of annoyance. "Are you out of your mind? You dare try to extort me? I'm the heiress of Eastport's Shaw Group. "My family controls half of the entire country's fresh produce market. Piss me off, and I'll tell my dad to ensure that not a single pound of lamb from this backwater town ever sells again!" I observe her smug, arrogant expression, then pull out my satellite phone. "In that case, let's have the highway patrol come and determine who's at fault." Chapter 1 Not only was Cecilia Shaw completely unfazed, but she even pointed straight at my face and started yelling, "Report this to the highway patrol? Who are you trying to scare?" Her freshly manicured finger nearly poked me in the eye. "You broke bastard, do you even know what car this is? "It's a G-Wagon with a price tag over six million dollars and fully made from carbon fiber—a custom limited edition! I bet you've never even heard of something like it in your life!" She brushed the dust off her hands with a disgusted look. Her high heels clacked as she took two steps back, afraid the sticky sheep's blood on the ground would stain her expensive shoes. "It's these disgusting sheep of yours that completely wrecked my front bumper and the factory paint. You should be worrying about my repair costs! Even if I harvested and sold all your organs, you still couldn't afford one of my headlights!" Those who knew nothing about the law often mistook wealth for immunity. It gave them confidence. What was truly fascinating was why so many of the nouveau riche believed money placed them above traffic laws. "Ms. Shaw, I'll repeat this one last time—this is Summit Highway. The entire highway is currently closed in both directions." I raised my hand and pointed ahead. In the middle of the road, the red-and-white barricade that the G-Wagon had smashed through lay broken in two, surrounded by a pool of blood, and a jarring set of black skid marks stretched more than 30 feet across the asphalt. "You deliberately drove through a roadblock. The traffic regulations are perfectly clear, and what you did is considered endangering public safety. "Once the highway patrol are done investigating the scene, there will be no dispute in assigning liability. You'll bear full responsibility. As for the sheep you killed, you'll compensate me for every single one at full value," I said plainly. "Bear full responsibility?" Keith Jameson, the male assistant standing behind Cecilia, couldn't hold back his laughter. "So, the country hick memorized a few pages of the traffic handbook and now thinks he's some big-shot lawyer?" He stepped forward and spat on one of the dead sheep. "Do you have any idea how valuable Ms. Shaw's time is? It costs hundreds of thousands every minute. "Forget this lousy mountain road in the middle of nowhere—even if it were an expressway in the city, Ms. Shaw would just drive straight through. "So what if a few livestock got run over? What, are we supposed to hold a funeral for them?" The two of them played off each other in perfect harmony, perfectly demonstrating their belief that the strong could do whatever they pleased. Cecilia held her chin high. Her wavy curls whipped wildly in the wind. She was every bit the picture of arrogant superiority. "It's fine. Let him report us. Might as well call 911 while you're at it. "I'm not backing down. I'd love to see if they're actually brave enough to seize my car, or whether they arrest you first for trying to scam me!" She unzipped her Hermes handbag, took out a disinfectant wipe, and carefully cleaned the fingertips that had touched the dust on her car. "And a friendly reminder—those dead, ordinary sheep aren't worth much. At best, they sell for a few dozen bucks a pound. Even if every one of them died, they're only worth a few tens of thousands. "But my car? Once the damage has been assessed at the factory, the repair estimate won't be less than a million dollars." Cecilia flung the filthy wipe straight at my face. "Get on your knees and apologize. Then, lick my car clean. If you please me, I might just spare you." She snorted coldly, continuing, "Otherwise, you can spend the rest of your life praying for those sheep from a prison cell." Chapter 2 I looked at the 29 dead sheep lying on the ground. Their bellies were swollen. Each wore a specially designed yellow microchip ear tag. My gaze turned cold. "Ordinary? A few dozen bucks a pound?" I took a deep breath and suppressed my anger before saying, "Ms. Shaw, you'd better pray that you can afford this. "The sheep you killed were purebred Suffon breeding sheep from a national-level alpine pasture genetic resource bank. More importantly, all 29 of them were ewes, and every single one had been carrying two fully formed lambs! "One dead ewe equates to three lives lost, so 29 of them means a total of 87 lives. Even with the most conservative estimate, the market value of this entire group would be at least ten million dollars." After hearing that astronomical figure, Cecilia froze up for a brief moment. Then she covered her mouth, exchanged a glance with Keith, and burst into a fit of piercing laughter. "Ten million dollars? Hahaha! What is this, some kind of TV show?" Cecilia laughed so hard she leaned backward. Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes. "A genetic resource bank? Why don't you just say you're an academician from the National Academy of Science? "Have you gone delusional from living in this godforsaken, backwater town for so long? It's just some filthy livestock, and you immediately try to scam ten million dollars out of me?" she jeered. Keith was laughing so hard he couldn't even stand straight. He slapped his thigh and chimed in mockingly, "So, country folks can just make up anything now? "And what? One sheep equals three lives? Why don't you just say these are divine sheep raised by God himself? "Ms. Shaw, this guy must've read too many fantasy novels. And now he's come down to the mortal world to beg for handouts. The nonsense he's making up is so ridiculous that even the six-million-dollar G-Wagon couldn't drag him back to reality. "This poor beggar dreamed about money so much that he's lost his mind." Cecilia rolled her eyes and sneered. "Your professional vocabulary is pretty impressive. You graduated top of your class from a scammer training course, didn't you?" Just then, a few stray drivers, who were stuck behind Cecilia because of the accident, exited their vehicles. One of them, a middle-aged man wearing glasses, walked closer and examined the yellow chip attached to the sheep's ear. Suddenly, he sucked in a sharp breath. "Ah…" The man, whose name was Timothy Creed, straightened up. His face was filled with disbelief. "This guy isn't lying. The yellow identification tag with a built-in micro-sensing band… Could this really be the core breeding group approved by the Northwest Agricultural Research Academy?" He carefully inspected the sheep's body again, pressing lightly on its swollen belly. His expression grew increasingly solemn as he did so. Finally, he adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses, then turned around and began explaining to the surrounding onlookers. "I was involved in the risk assessment for a transgenic breeding laboratory project before. These things survive entirely on high-precision breeding solutions and specially calibrated nutritional supplements. Every single breeding solution and supplement costs an absolute fortune! "The breeding process is extremely complicated too. The amount of money invested is astronomical. "Ten million is nothing. If this batch of pregnant ewes went onto the black market, people would fight over them for 20 million dollars!" As soon as those words fell, the surrounding crowd erupted in an uproar, and the way they looked at Cecilia changed. Cecilia stiffened up. Then, like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, she shrieked, "Alright! Keep up the act! "You damn hick, you actually prepared this whole act in advance, huh? You even arranged actors to hide here in advance! You all teamed up to con me from the beginning!" She was burning with humiliation and rage. "Fine! So you want to be a bully? I'll show you what it really means to have both sides of the law in your pocket!" With that, she pulled out her phone, dialed a number, and turned on the speakerphone. Chapter 3 The call was answered after only two rings, and a rough, arrogant male voice came through the speaker. "Well, well, Ms. Cecilia. To what do I owe the pleasure of your call?" Cecilia's attitude changed instantly. All her former arrogance had vanished as she put on a pitiful tone. "Benny! I'm at the beginning of Summit Highway, where someone's trying to extort me! "A filthy shepherd wrecked my car and refused to pay for damages. He even teamed up with the locals to put on a show and scam me out of ten million dollars!" There was a brief moment of silence on the other end before a string of colorful profanity erupted. "Son of a bitch! This is my turf, yet who dared to mess with an honored guest from Eastport? They must have a death wish! "Just wait there, Cecilia. Give me five minutes. I'll come with my men and teach that bastard a lesson he'll never forget!" After hanging up, Cecilia crossed her arms smugly and looked at Timothy, who had spoken up for me. "You've heard of Bennett Larson, haven't you? He controls everything around here, from the gravel industry to the freight routes. How much are amateur extras like you getting paid to pick a fight with the real boss of the area? "I suggest you get lost right now. Once the fists start flying, don't come complaining if you end up unable to even afford the hospital bill." The moment Bennett's name was mentioned, several onlookers' faces instantly blanched. They hurriedly pulled their companions back toward their own vehicles. Even Timothy looked uneasy. He looked at me and let out a helpless sigh before quietly retreating behind the crowd. It was human nature to avoid trouble. Timothy understood exactly how valuable those sheep were, but he also knew just how painful it was to get hit by a steel pipe. Less than five minutes later, the screech of brakes rang out. Three vans—all without license plates—skidded to a stop in a triangular formation, sealing off the entire lane. More than a dozen young men jumped out of the vehicles, each one carrying either a baseball bat or a steel pipe. Leading the group was a bald, heavyset man—Bennett Larson. A cheap counterfeit Versace T-shirt stretched tightly across Bennett's thick frame, and a thick gold chain hung around his neck. "Which blind fool dared to mess with Ms. Cecilia?" Bennett demanded. As he strode over, he drove a hard kick into the corpse of a sheep. I looked at him coldly. "You forced your way through a roadblock and destroyed research livestock. Are you really sure you want to get involved in this?" Bennett cocked his head and picked at his ear, then turned to the men beside him and grinned. "Well, damn! After all the years I've spent doing this, this is the first time I've encountered such an educated scammer. "Research livestock? Have you been watching too many farming programs or something? And now you're out here trying to lecture us on the law?" He scowled and jabbed a stubby finger at me. "Come on, boys. This punk still has a few sheep left, doesn't he? Get in the vans, and let's run every last one of them over!" "You dare?" I stepped forward, placing myself between the vans and the remaining flock. Bennett narrowed his eyes, then let out a scoff. "Oh? You still got some nerve, huh?" He waved a hand behind him, and two of his men immediately advanced with steel pipes in hand. "Run them over! I'll compensate for any injuries!" "You punk!" He pointed at me. His expression was dripping with arrogance. "If you got the guts, don't move!" The roar of engines followed his words. The onlookers immediately began urging me. "Young man, don't be stubborn! You can't afford to mess with this guy!" "That's right! A wise man knows when to back down!" Cecilia twirled a strand of her hair, watching me as if she were eagerly awaiting a public execution. The vans' engines rumbled as they accelerated toward us. The headlights were so bright that they blinded anyone watching. Behind me, the flock of sheep huddled together, trembling. "Run them over!" Bennett stood with his hands on his hips, laughing loudly. "Let's find out what's tougher—the van or this punk's skull!" Chapter 4 Amid the crowd's horrified cries, the van slammed on the brakes, coming to a stop inches from my legs. "You've got guts! Break one of his legs. Teach him how things work around here," Bennett said. Under his command, his men closed in around me. With no time even to react, a steel pipe crashed into my back. A dull thud rang out, and I staggered forward. But before I could steady myself, several burly men lunged toward me and pinned me down hard against the rough asphalt. The coarse gravel scraped my cheek open, causing blood to trickle down my chin and drip onto the ground. "Go ahead and call the cops! Weren't you acting like a big shot just now?" Bennett mocked. He walked over and stomped on the satellite phone I had dropped, shattering it to pieces. Cecilia stepped forward, crouched down in front of me, and patted my cheek. She laughed so hard that her shoulders shook. "What happened to your tough act from a minute ago? What about the ten million dollars? Go on, keep talking!" She turned to shoot a look at Keith, who immediately pulled out a paper and pen. He scribbled out an IOU for 15 million dollars, then slapped it onto the ground in front of me. "Sign it!" he barked. Bennett pressed the muddy sole of his shoe against my cheek and said menacingly, "The repair cost for wrecking Ms. Cecilia's car is five million dollars, and another ten million dollars is for emotional damages. "Sign the note, or I'll slice your tendons out and throw you into a ravine for the wolves to eat!" Despite the sand and dirt choking me, I coughed twice and spat out the bloody saliva in my mouth. "You're intentionally breaking the law!" "Intentionally breaking the law?" Bennett scoffed. He bent down, grabbed my collar, and lifted me halfway off the ground. "Here in these parts, I am the law!" I coughed harshly. "Seems like it's quite the business you're running. I suggest letting me go while I ask nicely. Otherwise…" Cecilia let out an exaggerated gasp. "Otherwise, what? Are you going to summon a mighty army?" She jabbed a manicured finger at my forehead. Her laughter grew increasingly wild as she said, "Benny, stop wasting time with him! The stench here is so strong that I'm about to throw up." Bennett nodded eagerly. "Right away, Ms. Cecilia!" He turned around and slammed me back onto the ground, coldly ordering, "Damn it, boys, get to work! If you kill him, I'll deal with the fallout!" The men surrounding us raised their rusty steel pipes, ready to strike. Just then, obnoxiously loud EDM music rang out. Cecilia took out her phone, glanced at the screen, then raised a hand to signal everyone to stop. She turned around and answered the video call, instantly adopting a sugary, fake tone. "Dad! I ran into a scammer on Summit Highway! He wrecked my car, demanded compensation, and even tried to attack me. "Luckily, I called Benny. He already subdued the bully!" On the other end of the video call was William Shaw, a tycoon who dealt with fresh produce in Eastport. He held a purple clay teapot in his hand, and his presence radiated absolute authority. William, who was currently seated on a plush mahogany chair in his luxurious office, immediately looked furious upon hearing those words. "How outrageous! Who is the hillbilly who dared to bully my daughter? Turn the camera toward him. I want to see just who dares to disrespect the Shaw family of Eastport!" Cecilia proudly turned the camera toward me. I was pinned to the ground and covered in blood. "Dad, look. This is the filthy beggar." Right when the camera focused on me, I bore with the pain and slowly raised my head. I grinned at William, revealing my bloodstained teeth. "Mr. Shaw, you've really taught your daughter well," I said in a low voice. The instant William saw my face, all arrogance vanished from his expression. His eyes widened in disbelief, as if he had seen a ghost. He shot up from his chair, knocking over the teacup that was on his desk. "Let him go! Bennett, you bastard, release him right now!" William roared hysterically through the video call. "All of you, stop! Don't touch him! I'm chartering a flight right now and going over immediately!"