A short while later, Al and Harun were already standing at the project site. The old building that had once occupied this space was now nothing more than a pile of rubble.
The ground had been leveled flat, and preparations for laying down the new foundation were already in place. From the look of things, the workers would continue with the new structure only after the repairs to the main building were completed.
Almost all of the laborers were taking their break in the area, Mudi included. Most of them were seated beneath a makeshift plastic canopy, quietly sipping cold drinks to escape the heat.
The moment Harun and Al entered the site, countless eyes immediately shifted toward them. The air that had been relaxed and filled with chatter grew tense in an instant. Everyone recognized Harun.
Although Al had already reassured them earlier in the morning that the matter was settled and he had no intention of dragging the issue further, none of them could predict what might happen now. Especially since Al was not only present but arrived together with Harun.
Mudi and several of the workers quickly rose to their feet, standing respectfully just as Harun and Al came to a halt before them.
"Gentlemen," Harun's voice rang out, calm but carrying a certain weight that silenced the murmurs. His greeting cut through the moment, stopping Mudi, who had taken a step forward intending to welcome them, before he could even speak.
Harun continued in that same even tone,
"I apologize, but once again there will be changes to your assignment. The building will not be constructed according to the original plan." His words were firm, decisive.
"As for the rest of the details, we shall discuss them after this," he added, his gaze locking specifically on Mudi.
Mudi, holding onto his professionalism as best as he could despite yet another change in instructions from the client, gave a solid nod. He did not allow even the faintest trace of frustration to appear on his face.
The other workers, however, exchanged looks of confusion. Some of them instinctively glanced at the shallow holes already dug for the foundation. Fortunately, the major groundwork had not yet begun, and with that realization, their expressions eased into something closer to relief.
If the plans had changed, it meant more work, but also more pay. And in their line of work, more pay almost always translated into a kind of unexpected bonus.
"This..." Harun said as he extended a rolled-up blueprint, "...is the new design for the building we intend to construct. Please take a look and tell me whether it is feasible to carry out."
Mudi carefully received the rolled blueprint from Harun's hand and began to unroll it. At first glance, the design seemed ordinary enough. But the longer he studied the details, the more impressed he became.
The lines were clean, the arrangement systematic, and the level of detail was far more thorough than what he typically encountered. Almost without realizing it, his head bobbed slightly in satisfaction as his eyes traced the finer points of the drawing.
Still, one oddity immediately caught his attention—particularly in the foundation layout. There was a rather large gap in the center, something that, in his experience, could potentially make the entire structure unstable in the long run.
Yet aside from that flaw, the blueprint was undeniably solid. With some minor adjustments on his end, he could easily resolve the problem.
"This is very well done. We can certainly handle this, Sir Harun," Mudi replied as he began to roll the paper back up, his voice carrying a mix of professional admiration and practicality.
"That's good to hear," Harun said with his usual composed demeanor.
"In that case, I hope we can meet again later this afternoon, Mr. Mudi. As for the rest…" He let his words trail off briefly as he cast a deliberate glance toward Al. "…you will follow the instructions of this young man, for it was his design."
Mudi froze for half a second, unable to stop the ripple of surprise that coursed through him. His eyes flickered from Harun to Al, the realization dawning that the intricate design had been drafted by the seventeen-year-old youth standing right before him.
He hadn't expected that. Still, he managed to school his features back into calm and gave Harun a respectful nod.
Harun, satisfied with the exchange, gave a short nod of his own. Then, in a gesture of courtesy, he turned and bent forward slightly toward Al.
"Then I shall leave the rest in your care, Young Master. Contact me if you require anything. I will return inside now," Harun said, formally excusing himself.
Al responded with a calm nod.
"Good. Thank you, Butler Harun," he replied, even reaching out to pat Harun lightly on the arm, a small gesture of acknowledgment.
With that, Harun turned away and departed, leaving Al to handle the matter on his own.
After Harun left, several of the workers who had already finished their lunch slowly drifted closer, gathering behind Mudi as if curious about what would happen next.
Mudi himself was still struggling to fully process the situation before his eyes. The young man standing in front of him had just presented a blueprint that was, by all means, remarkably solid and detailed.
For someone so young to come up with such a design was difficult to accept at face value. Deep down, Mudi remained skeptical—it was easier for him to assume that someone else had a hand in it, or perhaps it was simply true what people said: that every single one of the Virellano children was blessed with an almost frightening level of talent.
Unfortunately, there was still one flaw in the blueprint, a weakness in the design that prevented him from feeling entirely satisfied. The thought gnawed at him until he finally decided that it was better to be straightforward and bring it up directly rather than keeping it to himself.
"Young master… this design is excellent. But it seems there's a—"
Before he could finish, Al lifted his hand, palm outward, a subtle gesture for him to stop speaking.
The boy's gaze swept across the open, empty stretch of land where the old building had once stood. His eyes lingered there, sharp and calculating, much like an architect silently envisioning the castle of his dreams upon bare soil.
"I already know what you're thinking. You feel something's off, don't you?" Al muttered, his voice calm, as if he had read Mudi's thoughts.
Mudi unconsciously stepped half a pace back, startled by the precise response. If Al could point out the flaw without him saying a word, that meant the boy truly understood the design in its entirety. Which in turn also meant that he really had drafted it himself… but could that really be the case?
"Hm?" Mudi let out a low, uncertain sound, caught between doubt and intrigue.
"The foundation looks like a mess, doesn't it?" Al answered for him.
The words struck directly at the very problem Mudi had intended to raise. It was exactly what he had noticed, yet Al spoke of it first, leaving him slightly stunned. For a brief moment, admiration flickered in his eyes, and he gave a faint nod.
"I left it that way on purpose," Al continued.
"You mean… you deliberately designed it to be unstable?" Mudi asked, his voice carrying disappointment. The admiration that had just begun to grow within him evaporated almost instantly, replaced by the suspicion that Al was nothing more than a mischievous child amusing himself with reckless ideas.
What a shame, he thought bitterly.
But Al shook his head.
"No. The building will actually be more stable this way," he said firmly. With that, he reached behind his back, pulling out a large sheet of paper folded clumsily and tucked at his lower back. It was something he had purposely kept hidden, believing it was not yet time for others in his family to see.
"Take a look at this. This is the full version of the design," Al said as he handed the paper to Mudi.
Mudi blinked in surprise, then quickly unfolded the additional blueprint. The moment his eyes scanned across the drawings, his expression lit up in astonishment. It was as if he had found the missing piece of a puzzle, one that transformed the previous, flawed design into a complete and brilliant plan.
The blueprint clearly displayed a deeper extension of the foundation along with a concealed underground chamber, a basement that stretched down to a depth of six meters.
His gaze returned to Al, and again, a genuine sense of awe stirred within him. He felt ashamed that he had nearly dismissed the boy's work earlier.
Yet another thought weighed on him: this part of the plan had clearly been hidden, likely from Harun, perhaps even from Al's father. Should he really give his approval to something that the young master seemed intent on keeping secret?
"Young master, this is… a little…" Mudi began hesitantly.
"Hmm… let me guess. You're worried this hasn't been approved by my father yet," Al interjected smoothly.
Mudi could only nod in response.
"I see. So you realize I've been keeping this hidden," Al said with a small, knowing smile. "Relax. Even if I told my father about it, he would definitely approve. There's nothing wrong with an underground chamber, is there?" His tone carried an almost persuasive note, as if he were trying to reassure the man.
"That's not the issue, young master," Mudi replied awkwardly. "There's no problem with the basement itself, we just want to make sure everything is formally cleared by… your father. That's why I feel it would be best to pass this along to Sir Harun first before we start work on it."
"No," Al cut in firmly. "You should understand by now—if I'm keeping it a secret, that means no one is supposed to know, doesn't it?"
His words, sharp and uncompromising, made Mudi and the workers behind him exchange uneasy glances. The notion of a "secret basement" left them clearly unsettled.
Al let out a quiet sigh, realizing he needed to shift his approach. If logic and authority weren't enough, then perhaps something else would be.
"Huff… Fine. I'll pay all of you double the extra bonus you're supposed to receive if you carry out this design. How about that?" he offered, his tone calm but carrying the weight of temptation.
The promise of such a reward instantly lit up the eyes of the workers. Their faces, tired from the heat and labor, flickered with eagerness. Only Mudi remained hesitant, struggling with a mix of practicality and skepticism.
The amount Al was proposing was enormous—too large for him to believe so easily. The Virellano family's wealth was immense, yes, but did this boy truly have the authority to spend money on such a scale? Did he even have access to such sums?
"It's not about the money, young master. It's just that—" Mudi tried to explain, but one of the workers cut him off, stepping forward with an expression full of hope.
"Is that true, young master? Are you serious about paying us double?" the man asked eagerly. His words were quickly followed by the buzz of excited voices from the other workers, most of them desperate for confirmation that it wasn't an empty promise.
Mudi could only stare, dumbfounded, his heart sinking slightly. He felt a sting of disappointment watching his subordinates so easily swayed by the lure of money. Yet, at the same time, he could not deny that he himself was tempted. Deep down, he too wished the boy's words were not mere bravado.
Al nodded.
In the end, every person carried a weakness, something that could tempt them into surrender, even if it meant sacrificing something far greater. The thought left Al a little disheartened, a reminder of the fickle nature of humanity.
Yet at the same time, he could not deny the faint satisfaction he felt in being able to exploit that very tendency for his own benefit.
"Since this matter must remain a secret, I obviously can't pay you through the official project funds," Al said in a calm, almost casual tone, as if the decision he was making was of little consequence to him. "So just give me your personal or spare account numbers, and I'll transfer the money right away."
The workers exchanged hesitant glances among themselves.
Eventually, one man, braver than the rest, stepped forward and handed over his account number.
A brief silence followed—until, without even asking how much he was supposed to send, Al tapped his phone.
Moments later, the man's device chimed with a notification. His eyes widened as he stared at the screen. It was not just a generous payment, but a sum far greater than expected—more than double the promised amount.
The news spread instantly. The men burst into a commotion, voices overlapping with disbelief and joy. One after another, each worker hurried to offer their account details, unable to contain their excitement.
The small frenzy nearly turned chaotic, with even Mudi—who at first had been frozen in disbelief—reluctantly joining the rush. The chance to receive a fortune simply to keep their mouths shut was too irresistible.
Not long after, the impromptu "distribution of wealth" came to an end. Faces that had been tired, sweaty, and drawn from hours under the sun now gleamed with newfound vigor, as if the fatigue of labor had been washed away by the weight of fresh money in their accounts.
Several bowed repeatedly, whispering thanks, some even apologizing for ever doubting him.
Al merely offered a faint smile. The deal was sealed, wordless but firm.
Mudi, however, looked at the young master with mixed emotions. Gratitude stirred in him, but so did concern. Al had handed out such vast sums without hesitation, almost recklessly, with nothing in writing, no contract, not even a safeguard against betrayal.
Any other man would have considered it madness. Yet Al had transferred everything with absolute confidence, as though betrayal was not even a possibility in his mind.
But then, Mudi thought carefully. The money they had just received was far beyond anything they could earn for the scale of work asked of them. To betray someone who trusted them with such generosity—it would be unthinkable.
And beyond that, the boy was a Virellano, heir to one of the most powerful families in the nation. To make matters worse, he was known to be the lover of Yura, the infamous beauty with a cruel streak that even hardened men feared. Only a fool would take advantage of him.
"Thank you, young master," Mudi finally said with a genuine bow of respect. His voice was sincere, but his brow creased with another question. "But… how exactly are we supposed to keep this a secret? This area is very open, and digging a massive pit will surely draw attention."
Al's lips curled into a calm smile.
"Relax. That won't be a problem. Even if you were to bring in the loudest, largest digging machine, no one would notice a thing," he answered lightly.
Mudi blinked, stunned. "Huh? How could that even be possible? Are you joking with me, young master?"
Al turned to face him directly, his eyes calm but unyielding. He stepped closer, then gently tapped the older man's arm.
"Trust me," he said firmly. "Just follow my instructions, and leave the rest to me. And don't worry—I won't take back a single coin I've already given you."
Hearing those words, Mudi's doubts fell silent. If the boy reminded him of the money once more, then perhaps the simplest choice was to obey. After a moment of quiet contemplation, he nodded. His task now was clear: to follow every instruction the young master laid out.
With that, the preparations were finished. The actual construction would begin the following day, once the ongoing renovations on the main house allowed them to move forward.
Al turned away, walking off at an unhurried pace. The workers lowered their heads in respect, their eyes lingering on him as though he were some kind of benefactor who had descended from the heavens to shower them with fortune.
Al, however, exhaled slowly and shook his head as he walked. A faint sigh slipped past his lips while he glanced at the glowing notification on his phone.
It was a message from Ai—better known as Miss Aiza.
"You've been wasteful again, Master."
Al let out a soft laugh at her complaint. Wasteful indeed. He was well aware of it. He switched the phone off, then paused mid-step to glance once more at the flattened ground where the old building had stood.
"I've already spent a great deal," he murmured under his breath, almost like a confession to himself. "I just hope the thing hidden down there won't let me down."
With those quiet words, he turned and continued toward his temporary room in the main building.
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