...

Soon after, they made their way to the lobby. Zastan and the hotel staff carefully carried the two boxes filled with gold bars to the car waiting outside. As expected, Malcolm was there, holding the door open for them.

"Where to, sir?" Malcolm asked, his voice steady and professional as always.

"To Delane's Jewels," Zastan replied, sliding into the backseat.

The drive was smooth, and they arrived at the jewelry store in no time. As soon as they walked in, Zastan wasted no time explaining his unusual request. "I need a gold rod customized to the specifications typically used in construction," he began, listing the exact dimensions and weight requirements for each bar.

The staff at the store exchanged skeptical glances. The request was bizarre, to say the least. One of them finally spoke up, "Sir, are you sure about this? It's highly unconventional, and frankly, it seems like a waste of perfectly good gold."

Zastan remained unfazed. Instead of arguing, he simply set the box he was holding on the counter and opened it. The sight of the neatly stacked gold bars left the staff momentarily speechless.

"We can't just take on such a strange request," one of them protested, though their tone was considerably less confident now. "It might affect the reputation of our store."

Zastan leaned in slightly, lowering his voice but making sure it carried enough weight to leave an impression. "How about this. I'll pay you half a bar of gold upfront as commission. That should cover any concerns about reputation."

The manager, who was unexpectedly also the owner of the store and happened to be visiting that day, perked up at the mention of such a lucrative commission. Despite the odd nature of the request, the temptation of 'free gold' was too strong to resist.

"Let's discuss this in the basement, away from prying eyes," the manager suggested, leading the way downstairs.

In the basement, under Zastan's watchful gaze, the staff set to work. Using a precision machine, they carefully cut one of the gold bars in half. The process was quick and efficient, the half-bar neatly deposited into a small pouch that they handed to Zastan, keeping the other half as their payment.

The manager couldn't hide his satisfaction. "We'll get started on this right away. Honestly, it's a simple task. We'll just create a mold based on the steel rod you specified and pour the gold into it. It's really not a difficult job."

He glanced at the clock and made a quick calculation. "If you want, we can have it ready by tonight. You can pick it up before 7 PM."

Zastan nodded in agreement. "Perfect. I'll be back then."

As they concluded the deal, Zastan reached into the other box and handed a few more gold bars to the manager. "I'll be selling these as well."

The manager, clearly in a good mood from the recent deal, offered Zastan a price slightly higher than the current market rate. "Given the business you've brought us today, I think we can offer you a bit of a bonus on these."

Zastan smirked, pleased with the outcome. "It's a pleasure doing business with you." He pocketed the pouch with the half gold bar in it. While already thinking about the points he'd be earning soon.

...

Under the gaze of the jewelry store staff, he quickly hopped into the car, carrying a bag filled with cash. Settling in, Zastan's stomach growled, reminding him that he hadn't eaten in hours.

Feeling a sudden hunger, Zastan turned to Malcolm. "How about we grab something to eat? I'm thinking a buffet."

Malcolm shook his head, hesitating. "It's inappropriate, sir. If the hotel finds out, I'll be reprimanded."

Zastan chuckled, waving off the concern. "Who's going to tell them? No one has to know, Malcolm."

Malcolm paused, then a smile crept across his face. "Alright, sir. If you insist."

"Excellent," Zastan said, leaning back. "Now, where's the finest buffet around here?"

Malcolm started to decline, feeling it was unnecessary, but Zastan cut him off with a playful grin. "Come on, you know I'm not used to those 'poor' buffets."

Malcolm knew Zastan was joking and never meant any disrespect. Over the past few days, Malcolm had come to realize that Zastan was a kind person who never showed any sense of superiority despite his wealth. It reminded him of the old boss he served after retiring from the military.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

That boss had also been a kind man, offering Malcolm a role in managing his estate after his passing. But Malcolm, feeling unqualified, had declined. When the boss passed away from old age, leaving no descendants, he donated his wealth to welfare. The next day, Malcolm received a call informing him that a large sum had been deposited into his account. It was the boss's final gift.

With that money, Malcolm had fully paid off a three-bedroom apartment, and his grandchildren received scholarships to top schools abroad, from high schools to universities and undoubtedly, it was all arranged by the boss.

As these memories surfaced, Malcolm's eyes turned slightly red, but he quickly shook it off. Zastan, noticing the change, asked with genuine concern, "Everything alright, Malcolm?"

Malcolm blinked rapidly, dispelling the thoughts. "Just a bit of dust, sir," he replied, forcing a small smile.

Zastan didn't press further, understanding that some things were better left unspoken. Instead, he lightened the mood, steering the conversation back to their plans.

Malcolm chuckled, the somber mood lifting as they headed off to enjoy their meal together.

...

At the entrance of the buffet, there was already a long line of people waiting outside. As Zastan and Malcolm approached, they noticed a group of people entering through a separate entrance. One of them flashed a card to the guard, who scanned it with a device before allowing them inside without any delay.

Curious, Zastan leaned toward a person in the queue. "What's that all about?"

The person glanced at Zastan and replied, "That's the VIP entrance. Only those with the buffet's Platinum Feast card can skip the line. It's pricey, though—costs about $25,000 to get one."

Zastan nodded thoughtfully, then made his way toward the VIP entrance, with Malcolm trailing behind. He approached the guard and inquired about obtaining the card.

The guard nodded, lifting the walkie-talkie from his waist. After a brief exchange, he gestured for Zastan and Malcolm to enter. "Go ahead inside. Someone will assist you."

Inside, a staff member quickly greeted them. "Are you here for the VIP card?"

"That's right," Zastan confirmed.

"Right this way, please," the staff member said, leading them to the front desk.

After asking for basic information like name, age, and contact details, the staff proceeded to print out a sleek, black card. "That'll be $25,000," the staff member said, before adding, "This card is usable at all of our Platinum Feast buffet branches."

Zastan nodded, retrieving a small bag from which he pulled out three neat stacks of cash, each labeled with a paper strip indicating $10,000.

The staff's eyes widened slightly in surprise, but they quickly composed themselves and happily took the cash. After removing half of one stack, the staff handed the remaining $5,000 back to Zastan. "Welcome to the VIP experience," they said with a warm smile.

...

Two hours later, the two of them exited the buffet, their bellies slightly protruding from their clothes, a testament to the feast they had just enjoyed.

"That was the best meal I've had in a long time," Malcolm remarked, a contented smile on his face.

Zastan nodded in agreement, feeling the same. "Worth every penny," he said, patting his stomach lightly as they made their way back to the car.

...

Back at the hotel, Zastan indulged in a few rounds of gaming on his high-end computer, immersing himself in a digital world where his strategies and quick reflexes dominated. After a while, he decided to switch gears and watch a movie on his 100-inch TV.

Before you know it, time passed by rather quickly, and it's now 6PM

Glancing at the time, Zastan stretched and sighed contentedly. The buffet had filled him up so well that he decided to skip dinner altogether. "No need for another meal today," he muttered to himself, getting up from the couch.

As he made his way downstairs, he found Malcolm already waiting outside, ever the punctual chauffeur.

"Ready to head out again, sir?" Malcolm asked, holding the car door open.

Zastan nodded, a glint of excitement in his eyes. "Yes, let's go back to the jewelry store. It's time to see if my things are ready."

…

Upon arriving at the jewelry store, Zastan wasted no time entering. The staff immediately recognized him and greeted him with polite nods.

"Good evening, sir," one of the clerks said as she approached. "Your request has been completed. Please, follow me."

Zastan followed the clerk to a back room, where two neat rectangular boxes were placed on a polished wooden table. His heart raced with anticipation as the clerk carefully opened one of the boxes, revealing the golden rod inside.

It was perfect—exactly as he had envisioned. The rod gleamed under the light, its appearance identical to the construction rods he had specified, but with the unmistakable luster of pure gold.

Zastan couldn't help but smile, a sense of accomplishment washing over him.

"Excellent work," he said, running his fingers over the smooth surface of the rod.

The clerk smiled, clearly pleased with the praise. "Thank you, sir. We made sure to follow your specifications precisely. The rods are ready for you to take home."

"Wonderful," Zastan replied. He quickly thanked the clerk and asked for assistance in carrying one of the boxes to his car. The clerk obliged, carefully lifting one of the boxes while Zastan handled the other.

Once the boxes were securely placed in the trunk, Zastan paused and turned to the clerk. "Wait here for a moment," he said, walking to the passenger side of the car where he had left his bag.

He rummaged through the bag and pulled out the stack of cash from earlier. The bills were still somewhat crumpled, but Zastan didn't care. He walked back over to the clerk and without saying a word, stuffed the cash into the clerk's jacket pocket.

The clerk blinked in surprise, his hand instinctively reaching for the cash. "Sir, this is—"

Zastan cut him off with a grin. "Consider it a thank you for your excellent service. I appreciate the work you've done."

The clerk's eyes widened, and he bowed deeply. "Thank you, sir! This is too generous! Thank you so much!"

Zastan simply waved it off. "Just keep up the good work," he said before getting into the car.

As the car drove away, the clerk stood at the entrance, bowing repeatedly and thanking Zastan as if he had just received a life-changing gift.

…