PK looked at the manager calmly, completely unaffected by the arrogance in his tone.
"Well," PK said casually, "I'm new to this city. Why don't you explain who this Root is?"
The manager let out a short, mocking laugh.
"You just arrived in Z City," he said, shaking his head. "And you want to buy Royal Leaf? You don't even know who owns it. I don't know whether you're a fool… or someone with an unbelievable amount of guts."
He straightened his coat, as if preparing to lecture an ignorant child.
"Listen carefully."
"The Root family is one of the Top Five families of Z City. No—of the entire region," he corrected himself. "Their influence doesn't stop at business. They control hotels, real estate, logistics, import-export channels, and private investment funds."
He leaned slightly forward, his voice dropping.
"They have connections in the city council, the financial bureau, and even within certain military supply chains. One word from them, and licenses disappear. Companies collapse overnight."
The manager's eyes sharpened.
"Royal Leaf isn't just a hotel. It's a symbol. Every high-profile deal, political meeting, and underground negotiation in Z City passes through these halls. Owning this place means holding the pulse of the city."
He paused deliberately, letting the weight of his words sink in.
"People don't come here just to dine. They come here to be seen. To build alliances. To survive."
The manager scoffed.
"And you walked in—on your first days in Z City—talking about buying it as if you were ordering dessert."
He shook his head again.
"The Root family doesn't sell assets. They absorb them. If someone challenges them, that person doesn't leave Z City quietly."
For a moment, the room was silent.
PK listened patiently, his fingers resting lightly on the table.
When the manager finally finished, PK nodded once.
"I see," he said.
His calm response unsettled the manager more than anger ever could.
"So," PK continued evenly, "they're powerful. Well-connected. Untouchable."
The manager smirked.
"Exactly."
PK's eyes glinted with something unreadable.
"Good," he said. "That makes things interesting."
The manager's smile slowly faded.