CHAPTER 182: CITY SWIFT!!

Morning — Pearl Villa

The morning sunlight spilled softly through the sheer curtains, painting golden shapes across the living room floor. The gentle hum of the television filled the quiet air, mixing with the faint aroma of breakfast coming from the kitchen.

On the screen, a poised news anchor was delivering the latest headline:

"After the recent chaos in Venus Foods, Interpol has finally apprehended the Korean CEO responsible for conducting unsafe experiments in the Star Harbor facility. Meanwhile, Sterling Enterprises has officially taken over the Venus Foods factory and rebranded it as ’Stella Foods.’ The new line of products has already hit the market to an overwhelming response."

The screen shifted to footage of a smiling man in a navy suit addressing the press.

"Managing Director Liam Rodriguez stated that Sterling Enterprises will now open its doors to schools and students, allowing them to visit and observe the production process firsthand. Another milestone for Sterling Enterprises," the anchor concluded with a practiced smile.

Elena sat on the couch, a gentle pride softening her features. "He just keeps growing," she murmured, eyes still fixed on the screen.

Daniel, leaning back in his chair with his morning paper, gave a small grunt of agreement. "Really does..."

Just then, the sound of footsteps came from the entrance. Miles, fresh from his morning routine, towel slung over his shoulder, walked into the room. "What are you watching, Mom?" he asked, glancing toward the television.

Elena smiled faintly. "Miles Sterling achieved another milestone."

Miles raised an eyebrow. "They said my name on TV?"

Elena shook her head with a teasing grin. "That’s the thing—they never do."

Daniel folded his paper, amused. "I wonder why?"

Miles shrugged casually, grabbing a bottle of water from the counter. "It’s not like people don’t know me. I just don’t like being in the limelight. At the end of the day, it’s my employees and my friends who are working hard for all this."

Elena’s voice softened. "You’re a good boss, Miles."

Miles smirked. "You talk just like June."

Daniel chuckled .

Elena laughed quietly, shaking her head. "Go and take a shower before Hope comes down and starts saying her big brother smells again."

Miles grinned, already backing toward the stairs. "Then I’d better run before that happens."

Elena chuckled as she watched him jog upstairs, the faint sound of his footsteps fading into the warmth of the morning.

....

Graveyard Base

A graveyard operative stepped into Ray’s cabin and closed the door soft as a whisper. The room smelled faintly of old wood and machine oil, radio chatter tucked into the corners like cobwebs. Ray looked up from the map spread across his desk, face drawn thin under the light.

"Commander," the operative said, voice low.

Ray didn’t wait. "What’s the news."

The operative leaned forward, palms flat on the table. "We found nothing in Silverline. Not what we expected. Tracks go cold. The Clown—people are saying the intel that he’s alive might be false."

Ray tightened his fist until the knuckles went white. The map trembled under his fingers. For a long heartbeat only the hum of the cabin filled the space.

"Dig deeper," he said, each word a blade. "We need him. Or anyone tied to him. Pull every ledger, every contact, every transaction. Trace the routes, check the old clients. Whoever paid the Clown, whoever used him, they have a thread. Find it."

"Copy that, commander," the operative replied.

Ray watched the man go, then stared at the empty doorway as if the answer might step back through it. The hunt had widened. The graveyard could not afford loose ends.

Morning sunlight poured down the highway in long golden stripes as Miles Sterling pulled his car over to the shoulder. The tires hissed against the gravel as he stopped. He opened the door, stepped out, and crouched to check the front right tire—flat.

He exhaled, half-amused, half-annoyed. Perfect timing.

Today wasn’t just any day. At ten, he was supposed to meet the owner of City Swift Cabs, one of the fastest-growing cab networks in the country—operating in seven major cities and eyeing an expansion into more routes. They are currently looking into Sterling Enterprises for potential investments.

As he stood by the car, his phone rang.

"Boss, where are you?" came June’s brisk voice. "It’s almost time!"

Miles chuckled under his breath. "Relax, June. I got a flat tire."

A pause. "A flat tire? Now? Do you want me to send a pickup? We can get you here in fifteen minutes."

"No need," Miles replied, eyes narrowing as a thought sparked. "Actually, I just got a great idea."

"...That tone scares me," June said warily.

Miles smirked. "I’m booking a City Swift Cab."

June blinked from the other end. "A cab? You’re... booking the company’s own service before the meeting?"

"Why not?" Miles grinned, getting back into his car to grab his bag. "I’ll test it myself before I invest in it. Real experience, real insight. Send someone to pick up my car later."

There was silence, then a sigh. "You’re unbelievable. Fine. I’ll stall him if he gets here first."

"Good. See you soon," Miles said, ending the call.

He downloaded the City Swift app, his curiosity piqued.

The interface was sleek, user-friendly—clean white background, simple navigation, sharp animations.

Different car classes, personalized driver profiles, real-time tracking. He nodded in approval.

"Not bad," he muttered, selecting a Standard Ride.

The screen blinked: ’Your driver is on the way. Estimated arrival: 3 minutes.’

He zoomed in on the map, watching the tiny car icon weave through the streets.

"You can even see the driver in real time," he murmured. "That’s cool."

A white sedan pulled up smoothly beside him. The driver rolled down the window, a friendly smile beneath slightly tired eyes. He couldn’t have been older than twenty.

"Mr. Miles?"

"That’s me," Miles said, slipping into the back seat.

"Cinder Square, right?"

"Yes."

The car rolled forward, the city gliding by in the window’s reflection.

After a few minutes of quiet, Miles spoke. "What’s your name?"

"Troy, sir."

Miles nodded. "You look young. A student?"

"Yes, sir. I go to college."

"Don’t you have classes today?"

Troy chuckled. "I do. But I only go twice a week. I make up for it later—take notes from friends, self-study at night. Sleep’s optional."

Miles smiled faintly. "Hardworking."

Troy shrugged lightly. "I have to be. My dad’s got paralysis. His meds aren’t cheap. It’s just the two of us."

Miles leaned back, listening quietly. "So... does it work well? This job?"

Troy looked at him through the rear-view mirror. "Depends what you mean."

"I mean financially."

"Oh." Troy gave a small laugh. "It works... enough. Got this car on loan, still paying it off. Some days are great—nice customers, good ratings, maybe a tip. Others..." He sighed. "Others, not so much."

Miles tilted his head. "Sounds like it depends on people."

"Exactly," Troy said. "The company takes its cut. If I get a one-star review, I lose half my pay. Sometimes people complain just to get a refund. Like if I don’t open the door for them, or the car’s not fancy enough. Fake complaints, real fines. And we can’t fight back."

Miles’s voice was calm. "And yet, you keep doing it."

Troy smiled faintly. "Because I need to. Not because I love it. But having something like this... it’s a lifeline for a lot of us. Quick work. Quick cash."

Miles studied the boy’s reflection—tired, but with something bright burning behind his eyes. "You’re an interesting person, Troy. What do you study?"

"Chemistry," he said instantly. "I want to be a scientist someday. Maybe do real research if I can afford it."

"Ambitious," Miles said. "And passionate."

Troy chuckled. "Passion doesn’t pay rent, but it keeps me from quitting."

Miles smiled. "Keep that fire alive. You’ll need it."

The car slowed in front of the gleaming glass structure of Cinder Square—home of Sterling Enterprises.

"We’re here," Troy said, eyes widening as he looked up at the massive building. "Do you... work here, sir?"

Miles opened the door, stepping out. "Something like that. Thanks for the ride."

He tapped his phone, paying seamlessly through the app.

Troy nodded. "Thank you, sir. Have a great day."

As the sedan pulled away, Miles glanced at the rear-view mirror once, a thoughtful smile curving his lips.

A few blocks down, Troy’s phone buzzed.

He frowned, glancing at the screen.

You received a 5-star rating and a $1,000 tip.

His foot slammed the brakes.

"$1,000?!"

He quickly tapped the review notification.

"A brilliant young driver with a million dreams. All the best." — M.S.

Troy’s mouth fell open. For a long moment, he just sat there, stunned, then broke into a disbelieving laugh.

"Who even tips like that..." he muttered, shaking his head as the traffic honked behind him. But he couldn’t stop smiling.

Back in the reflection of the rear-view mirror, his eyes looked brighter — for the first time in a long while.

Miles entered through the glass doors of Sterling Enterprises, the hum of conversation and faint scent of fresh coffee filling the air. The polished marble floor reflected the overhead lights like water, and every employee who passed greeted him with a polite nod, unaware he had just arrived in a City Swift cab.

As he moved toward the elevators, his eyes caught a man standing in the lobby — tall, mid-forties, wearing a crisp navy suit with the quiet confidence of someone used to owning things. Beside him stood a younger man, likely an assistant, holding a tablet and a leather file.

Miles instantly recognized him from the reports — Aaron Knight, the founder and owner of City Swift Cabs.

Instead of taking his private elevator, Miles adjusted his tie and walked into the same lift as them.

Aaron’s assistant quickly hit the button for the 20th floor, but Miles leaned forward, pressed the Top Floor, and stepped back.

The hum of the elevator filled the silence for a few seconds.

Aaron glanced sideways, studying Miles — his calm demeanor, neatly rolled sleeves, and subtle authority. "Do you work for Sterling Enterprises, young man?" he asked, curiosity flickering in his tone.

To be continued....