Holding a palm-fiber broom, Ian was forced to turn on his work phone for five minutes just to check an urgent message. That careless move had long-lasting consequences. His phone's GPS signal was immediately picked up by the Adichandra Group tracking team.
It didn't take long before hurried footsteps echoed through the narrow second-floor hallway of the boarding house. Ardi, Ian's neatly tie-wearing personal secretary with slicked-back, oil-saturated hair, was panting as he climbed the concrete stairs.
"Mr. Ian! Oh my God, Mr. Ian!" Ardi called when he saw the shadow of a towering man who had just emerged from Excel's room carrying a broom and a garbage bag.
Ian froze in front of the door. His eyes flashed sharply, radiating an intensely intimidating aura. "Ardi? How did you get here?"
"You’re asking how?!" Ardi clutched his heaving chest, his face half-crazed with panic. "Adichandra Group's stock dropped two percent because you disappeared without a word! The board meeting is in an hour, sir! I've been driving all over the capital looking for your GPS location!"
"Lower your voice," Ian whispered icily, his gaze seeming capable of slicing through someone's neck.
"But, sir—"
Suddenly, the bedroom door swung wide open. Excel stepped out carrying a glass of sweet iced tea, his messy red hair sticking out in every direction. "Hey, Ian! What’s taking you so long to take out the trash? Are you talking to the wall—"
Excel's words cut off. His eyes traveled from the tips of Ardi's gleaming dress shoes all the way up to his gold-rimmed glasses.
"Whoa." Excel gaped, scanning Ardi's appearance, which was far too slick for a narrow alley like this. "Who’s this guy? A debt collector? You got a payday loan, Ian?"
Ardi's eyes flew wide with shock. "Debt—"
Before Ardi could finish the word "collector," Ian stepped forward and clamped a powerful hand around his secretary's shoulder. The tall man cut him off quickly, before his secret could be exposed.
"Yes," Ian cut in flatly, without blinking. "He's... a debt collector."
Ardi grimaced through the pain in his shoulder, his panicked gaze darting toward Ian. 'A debt collector?! I’m the chief secretary of a holding company worth trillions, sir!' Ardi screamed hysterically in his head.
Excel let out a heavy sigh and looked at Ian with an expression mixing pity and exasperation. The red-haired young man stepped forward and planted himself squarely between Ardi and Ian. Though he was only shoulder-high next to Ian, Excel put his hands on his hips in the most defiant stance imaginable.
"Hey, Debt Collector!" Excel barked, pointing at Ardi's face. "Take a good look at this guy! His face looks like an unpainted wall, his clothes are wrinkled, and he has to mooch off my fried rice just to eat! You could collect until his kidneys fall out, and he still wouldn’t have any money!"
Ardi blinked in confusion, his brow furrowing deeply. "What exactly does that mean, man?"
"Don’t play dumb!" Excel rattled on mercilessly. "You debt collectors really don’t have an ounce of humanity, do you? The guy’s already struggling, and you’re harassing him like this!"
Ardi glanced at Ian with a desperate plea for help. 'Do you seriously expect me to play along with this red-haired guy?'
Ian gave him an unmistakable, deadly look. 'Play along, or you’re fired this instant.'
Ardi swallowed hard. The suited man was forced to clear his throat and try to adjust to the role, even though his voice trembled slightly. "Ahem... Mr. Ian's debt... is very large. He has to start making payments today."
"How much does he owe?!" Excel challenged. "I’ll make the first payment for him! How much?!"
Ian was stunned behind Excel. The tall man stood frozen, staring at the slender red-haired young man's back. Never in Ian's life had anyone been willing to stand up for him against someone else's shouting, much less for the sake of an "ordinary employee" he had only just met. His chest felt strangely warm.
"His debt... is one hundred thousand rupiah," Ardi answered, blurting out a number because he had no idea what else to make up.
Excel reached into the pocket of his patterned shorts, pulled out a fifty-thousand-rupiah bill, and roughly stuffed it into Ardi's expensive suit pocket.
"Here’s fifty thousand for now! Half of it!" Excel snapped sharply. "Now get lost! Don’t come back until next week! If you dare harass my friend again, I’ll douse you with the water from the drainage ditch out front!"
Ardi held the fifty-thousand-rupiah bill with trembling fingers. The massive CEO worth hundreds of billions standing behind him had just been saved by a fifty-thousand-rupiah bill from a boarding-house freelancer.
"O-okay... I’ll be going now," Ardi stammered. He glanced at Ian one last time before finally turning around and descending the stairs with a dazed stride.
After Ardi disappeared around the turn in the staircase, Excel turned around. He slapped Ian's broad chest hard enough to make his annoyance clear.
"You, seriously!" Excel scolded. "You’re already a pathetic loser, and now you’re drowning in payday-loan debt too! Good thing you’ve got me!"
Ian gazed at Excel's sweet face for a long moment. His voice softened slightly. "Why did you pay it for me?"
"What was I supposed to do, let a debt collector beat you up?" Excel rolled his eyes lazily, then walked back into the room. "You’re a burden, but you’re my friend now. Whatever. There goes my fifty thousand because of you."
Ian followed Excel into the room. At the corner of his lips, usually sealed tight, a rare, faint smile appeared.
"Excel," Ian called softly.
"What now?"
"I’ll pay back my debt. All of it."
Excel snorted and tossed a rag at Ian's chest. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. You’d better help me wipe down the table over there. That’s what I call compensation!"
"Understood," Ian replied tersely, then obediently began wiping the table.