The headquarters of the Catering Association, a magnificent building that had just been rebuilt a few years ago, was filled with a tense atmosphere. The staff members, dressed in Catering Association uniforms, looked at the City Lord's guards coming in and out of the building with some confusion and panic. Although they had not been arrested, but they had been restricted from leaving the building.
"Did you ever think this day would come?" Robert asked Warren, who looked ten years older overnight and had a lot more white hair, from the second floor.
"I thought about this ten years ago, but nothing happened all these years, so I had a bit of wishful thinking. I didn't expect it to happen anyway." Warren leaned on the railing, looking down at his panicked subordinates and at the Catering Association building that had been built according to his plan. He grinned, a bitter smile on his face.
"Do you regret it?" Robert also looked down, remaining silent for a moment before asking.
"Why should I regret it?" Warren's smile faded, he straightened up, and proudly raised his hand, saying, "Look at this magnificent building, look at the staff of the Catering Association, the large sculptures outside the building—all of these were brought by me. Everyday, countless customers go to restaurants based on the food rankings. Why should I regret it? Even without the title of City Lord's Mansion, if I had five more years, I could have achieved the same scale as I have now."
"Do you think the old president would expect a Food Association like this?" Robert looked at Warren, remained silent for a moment, and then asked.
"Perhaps..." Warren's expression froze. He slowly turned to look at Robert, and suddenly felt a vague sense of familiarity in Robert's eyes and brows. He hesitated and asked, "Who exactly are you?"
"President Laurie is my grandfather. You should have met me once when I was a child." Robert looked Warren in the eye as well.
"My grandfather founded the Food Association, but my father had no interest in it and wouldn't let me get involved. Later, my grandfather handed the Food Association over to you and passed away the following year. After that, our family had no contact with the Food Association. But I promised my grandfather before he died that I would keep an eye on the Food Association, so I've been keeping an eye on it in secret."
"President, you are indeed a genius. The rapid development of the Catering Association has exceeded everyone's expectations. My grandfather certainly couldn't have imagined that his original idea of making it easier for everyone to find delicious food would turn into such a large association. But he certainly wouldn't have wanted to see the food rankings become what they are now, where money can be used to climb the ranks instead of delicious food. This distorted food ranking has completely deviated from his original vision and philosophy, and this is wrong." Robert continued, looking at Warren, his expression calm.
"So, you came to the Catering Association last year just for this day?" Warren clenched his fist.
"I've advised you, President, many times. If you could have pulled back from the brink, I wouldn't have wanted to see things like this today. The Food Association is the culmination of my grandfather's life's work, but it's also largely your life's work and effort. In the early years of the Catering Association, you truly used the food rankings to drive the association into a period of rapid development in Aden Square. These are your indelible achievements." Robert shook his head, his gaze towards Warren gradually hardening and becoming stern, his voice also becoming serious:
"But you, President, have never listened to a word I said. The sculpture at the entrance of the Catering Association still bears the old president's slogan, 'Everything For The Sake Of Delicious Food!' How ironic that statement is standing at the entrance of the Catering Association now? Do you still remember the promise you made to that old man? Do you still remember your original intention? Do you still remember the promises you made when you signed the agreement with the City Lord's Mansion? What have you accomplished all these years? Before the Catering Association and you fall into an endless abyss, I will stop it and bring it back on track."
Warren looked at the resolute expression on Robert's face, his clenched fist slowly loosened, as if all his strength had dissipated. He gripped the railing again, his gaze somewhat vacant as he stared into the distance. The magnificent building was teetering on the brink of collapse, as if it would fall over with the slightest push. This building, which had consumed half his life's work, the catering empire he had built, was beginning to crumble in front his eyes.
"Actually, I didn't expect it to turn out like this..." Warren chuckled self-deprecatingly, looking at the sculpture at the entrance of the building, and continued, "At first, I just wanted to build a headquarters for the Catering Association, but I didn't have the money, so I started thinking about how to make money, and selling voting slips was obviously a good way.
Later, some restaurants secretly tried to bribe me to get on the list. At first, I refused. I couldn't just accept money because they asked me to. A food ranking list shouldn't be tainted by money.
But one day I realized that no one would care if I accepted the money, all I had to do was change a ranking on the list. And the money I made was more than what I made from selling voting slips. I would give a portion to the association and keep the rest for myself. How much I gave and how much I kept was entirely up to me. The feeling of having money in my hands was indeed very appealing.
Later, the Aden Square Merchants' Union approached me. President Jeffrey was indeed a shrewd old fox, but he also understood the rules and knew how to use them more naturally. Although the money was less than collecting fees individually, but the rankings made this way were definitely more visually appealing. Later still, Cyril took over the catering department of the Aden Square Merchants' Union. He paid even more generously than Jeffrey, but he also had more demands, practically controlling the rankings of the entire list.
I knew the risks involved, but every time I saw those boxes of dragon coins delivered to my office, I couldn't bear to send them back. The Food Ranking was like a sailboat that had lost control in a storm. From that moment on, it was no longer under my control. I couldn't guide it, I couldn't control its speed, and I couldn't even set the rules. I was still the president of the Catering Association, but I knew I was just a puppet controlled by money. When they needed me to do something, all they had to do was send the money to my office.
I couldn't refuse, I couldn't be resolute, and I dared not refuse. Compared to the Aden Square Merchants' Union, the Catering Association was like a babbling child. Once let in, it was powerless to resist. I could only forget what my original intention was, and each day when I entered, I could ignore the words carved next to the sculpture, telling myself that this was all I deserved."
"Actually, I know… all of this is something I shouldn't have touched, but once the box of desire is opened, it can never be closed." Warren sighed, looked away from Robert, reached out and gently patted his shoulder, and said earnestly, "Little guy, I remember you. You were that blond kid who followed the old president around, ate roast beef, and didn't like to wipe your mouth. If the Catering Association is to be guided by you in the future, I hope you can make everyone who enters and exits this door hold their heads high and face those words."