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CHAPTER 20. FRANK - CASTLE OF MISUNDERSTANDING IV

  April 2027.

  Frank and Max decided to start their business by setting up shipping containers on the site of the ruined mosque.

  At first, the relevant departments were reluctant,

  citing that commercial temporary structures were not permitted on religious grounds.

  However, faced with a 'special provision for the temporary operation of commercial facilities at sites of neglected eyesores' discovered by Artistea

  and perfectly prepared documents,

  the officials had no choice but to stamp their approval.

  A few days later, a heavy trailer pulled into the ruins, kicking up clouds of dust.

  Stepping out of the driver's seat was Johnny, one of Simon and Kimi's men.

  He stepped out without a word and scanned the surroundings.

  He stood among the charred remains, where the acrid smell of burning still lingered.

  “Is this the place?”

  “Yeah. Drop it right there.”

  Johnny nodded without a word at Frank's instruction.

  He skillfully operated the crane to lower a massive,

  brightly painted shipping container onto the blackened earth.

  Thud—!

  “Good work,” Max said, patting Johnny on the back.

  Johnny merely gave a dispassionate nod.

  “Ha, this guy really doesn't talk much, does he?

  Did Simon or Kimi have anything else to say?”

  Irritated by Johnny's stoic response,

  Max glared at him sharply.

  “...Deliveries will be made at the same time every week.

  The goods for the shop are scheduled to arrive in a week,

  so the boss said to get the place sorted out.”

  His tone was polite but mechanical.

  “Wait, a week? It's going to take that long?

  Have those bastards lost their minds?”

  An angry Max began swearing and pulled out his phone to call Simon.

  Frank watched as a shadow fell over Johnny's deep-set eyes while his gaze shifted toward Max;

  his thick hand slowly began to rise.

  “Hey, Max. We've got to organize the container and handle the paperwork anyway.

  We're already short on time.

  Do you think the two of us can even get all that sorted in just a week?”

  Frank quickly pushed Max's hand down and shot him a look.

  Only then did Max seem to realize Johnny's sheer size;

  he tucked his phone away and grumbled.

  “Ah, dammit. We're putting a lot of money into this,

  and it pisses me off that they're breaking promises right from the start.”

  He watched Max grumble as he headed inside to check the container, letting out a short laugh.

  'Kid and his pride. If you pick a fight with Johnny, we're both dead meat, man.'

  Johnny slowly extended the hand he had raised toward Frank.

  Sensing a faint hint of goodwill behind Johnny's intimidating face,

  Frank took it and shook.

  It was the right move.

  “Thanks, Johnny.”

  Johnny's bushy beard twitched slightly as he let go of Frank's hand and returned to his crane.

  Frank stepped into the container where Max was.

  Max was still venting his frustration,

  muttering to himself as if he hadn't quite cooled down.

  “Hey, I know it's temporary, but isn't this place a bit too shabby?

  Look at all this dust; it’s even got cracks everywhere.

  When are we even going to get electricity, AC, gas, or internet in here?

  Ah, I messed up.

  I should’ve pushed Kimi and Simon to handle everything from the start.

  They’ve got so much good stuff in their shops.”

  Frank approached the grumbling Max from behind and pulled him into a light headlock.

  “Give it a rest. This is our start, anyway. And fix your face.

  Who’s going to come to the shop looking at a face like that?”

  He hid the bitter sense of shame that washed over him the moment he acknowledged that fact behind a joke.

  “Ah, ah, ah! Hey, let go! Let me go!”

  Max gagged and struggled,

  but Frank tightened his grip, completely unfazed.

  Finally, unable to take it anymore,

  Max jabbed his elbow into Frank’s stomach and stomped hard on his shin with his heel.

  “Gah! Dude, that was too much!”

  Frank let out a yelp and staggered back.

  Max laughed heartily, watching Frank clutch his shin in pain.

  “That’s what you get for not letting go sooner.

  Besides, customers will come to see your face, not mine.

  I’ll just handle the logistics in the back or head over to the site of the ruined mosque.”

  Frank rubbed his aching shin,

  looking up at Max from a kneeling position.

  “You expect me to mind the shop all day by myself?

  You’re doing it with me.”

  “Well, yeah, but... man,

  where do we even start with this?”

  Max looked around the narrow container and let out a deep sigh.

  The cramped 350-square-foot space felt even more bleak since it was still empty.

  “Just hang in there.

  In two or three years,

  our castle will be properly built on those ruins over there.”

  Frank said as he struggled to his feet,

  brushing the dust off his pants.

  “Cough, cough! Hey, brush that dust off outside. Or at least open a window!”

  Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

  Max shoved open the small window on the container.

  Warm April sunlight poured through the gap,

  illuminating the dim interior.

  Watching Max standing in the sunlight amidst the swirling dust,

  Frank felt a strange rush.

  “Hey, by the way, have you picked a name for the shop yet?”

  Max asked, covering his mouth with his sleeve to avoid breathing in the dust.

  “Hey, have you picked a name for the shop yet?”

  “Yeah, I already decided on one.”

  “What is it?”

  [Sweet Castle]

  Ten days later, the container had undergone a remarkable transformation.

  A castle-shaped wooden sign was mounted on top,

  the name written in clumsy strokes of spray paint.

  To Frank, this name meant a fortress—

  a castle built to protect every sweet thing he still owned.

  Johnny faithfully delivered the goods as promised.

  Along with the candies made by Kimi and Simon,

  he brought decent display shelves and character dolls from out of nowhere.

  Max was fed up with the childish dolls,

  but Frank thanked Johnny.

  “We need this stuff if we’re going to run a legitimate business for kids too, man,” Frank said.

  The dolls were glued down with strong adhesive on the counter and between the shelves.

  It was Johnny’s clumsy way of caring,

  fearing that children might touch and break them.

  Rough wooden shelves were placed in the center,

  filled with snacks from all over the world.

  The secret 'green grape candies' from Kimi and Simon were hidden

  and traded in secret at the mosque ruins—

  the site that would eventually become Frank's true castle.

  At the entrance stood a crude counter and an old POS terminal.

  On the wall, an old AC unit hummed loudly,

  connected to an outdoor condenser to keep the interior cool.

  Tidying up the shop was surprisingly enjoyable.

  The sweat he broke while wiping shelves

  and stocking goods gave him a strange sense of accomplishment he had never felt before.

  It felt as if he was truly claiming his own space.

  Despite her busy schedule,

  Frank’s mother visited the shop to cheer on his new beginning.

  Max willingly gave up his own seat in the cramped shop to treat her with respect.

  “You’ve done a nice job decorating the place,”

  she said, looking around with a sense of pride as she accepted the tea Max offered.

  “Right? We’re about to open. Would you like to try some snacks?”

  Max neatly arranged a few types of sample snacks and handed them to her.

  “Thank you, Max.”

  She carefully examined the foreign snacks she had never seen before and took a crunchy bite.

  “How is it?”

  “It’s a strange taste.

  I’ve never had anything like this,

  so I’m not quite sure.”

  “Ah, that’s a new one from India…”

  “Well, you have to have tried things to know,” Frank cut her off bluntly.

  Perhaps because of the guilt of ignoring his father's death anniversary last month,

  facing his mother was inexplicably uncomfortable.

  Everything was unpleasant—the way Max treated her so warmly,

  and the way her eyes scanned the unopened shop as if appraising it.

  “Hey, regardless, how can you talk to your mother like that?”

  Since Max had been raised by his grandfather after his parents' divorce,

  he was exceptionally respectful toward elders.

  Frank knew the circumstances well,

  but the fact that the target of that respect was his own mother grated on his nerves.

  “No, it’s fine. Thank you, Max.”

  In Frank’s eyes,

  his mother’s gratitude toward Max appeared as if she were acting submissive and pleading with a stranger.

  Just as he was taking a deep breath, ready to explode in anger, Max intervened first.

  “Haha, don’t mention it. Please, stop by whenever you can.”

  Frank looked away from Max,

  who was motioning to him,

  and let out a long, heavy breath.

  “Anyway, I’m worried about whether two men can really run a candy shop properly.

  The outside sign and walls look so bleak... and more than anything,

  it bothers me that this is a place where many people died just a few months ago.”

  Frank’s mother massaged her shoulder as if she were exhausted.

  Frank frowned, displeased with his mother,

  who only piled on complaints without offering any practical help.

  Sensing the subtle, cold tension flowing between them,

  Max quickly stepped toward her and began massaging her shoulders.

  “Right? I’ve been worried too since there’s just the two of us.

  Since we haven't even opened yet, the income is uncertain,

  so we're careful about hiring anyone.”

  “That feels good. Thank you, Max.”

  As Max tried his best to lighten the mood with his typical charm,

  Frank felt a surge of frustration at the stifling situation.

  “If you’ve seen enough, you should head out.

  We still have more tidying up and paperwork to finish.”

  Max stopped his hands, and Frank’s mother rose with a stiff expression.

  She smoothed her wrinkled clothes and picked up the small bag she had brought.

  Max frowned and shot Frank a look,

  but Frank only shrugged as if to say, ‘So what?’

  “Right, I’ve stayed too long. Max, please take good care of my Frank.

  Let’s all have a meal together sometime.”

  She took a small paper envelope from her bag and gently placed it on the crude counter.

  “Of course! It would be an honor to have a meal with a beauty like you, ma'am.”

  Frank’s mother nodded with a smile.

  “What’s this?”

  Frank picked up the paper envelope and felt something hard inside.

  “It’s a memento of your father.

  I’ve been waiting all this time for the day you would finally find your place in society.

  This will protect you.”

  Opening the envelope at her words, he found his father’s Major rank insignia inside.

  His father, who had fought bravely and died for his country, was Frank’s only source of pride.

  Though his death had led to financial ruin and distanced him from his mother,

  he had never once resented his father.

  Examining the insignia he had taken out,

  Frank was so happy that he momentarily forgot all the resentment he had harbored toward his mother for so long.

  “...Thank you, Mother.”

  At his sincere words, a smile finally spread across her face.

  Max nudged Frank’s shoulder and signaled with a tilt of his head.

  It meant, ‘Give her a hug, man,’ but Frank didn’t move.

  “See you again, Max. And stay strong, my son.”

  “Get home safe, Mother.”

  Max opened the door and saw her out.

  Frank stood there, hesitating over what to do.

  She stopped for a moment and looked at her son,

  but she didn’t wait any longer for the hesitating Frank;

  she turned and left the shop with heavy steps.

  Frank didn’t look at her as she walked away, and in the end,

  he didn’t add another word.

  “Hey, aren't you being a bit too much?”

  “I don't know. You know my mom—

  do you really think she has time for a meal?

  She’s busy working all day.

  I heard she’s even helping out at a restaurant late into the night.

  It’s annoying, so just don’t say anything.”

  Max opened his mouth to say something more

  but shook his head after seeing Frank’s cold expression,

  pulling out his phone instead.

  “Look, even your mother is right. Do you think the two of us can really make this shop work? The exterior looks so bleak... Do you think kids will even come here? We’re not just selling Kimi’s candies, you know. It’s a snack shop; you know we need kids coming in too, don’t you?” Max asked a question that Frank found hard to ignore.

  “If we only deal with addicts, we’ll get caught by the DEA in no time.

  You’ve known that from the start, haven’t you?

  And you know we’re screwed if we get caught here.

  I mean, it’s your money we’re starting with, after all.

  If we want to bring in kids,

  we definitely need to change the interior and hire a woman to work here.”

  Max stared at the character dolls Johnny had fixed to the shelves.

  “Those things Johnny brought...

  I don’t like them, but what can we do?

  If that’s what it takes to bring in kids, they have to stay.”

  Max flicked the head of one of the dolls with his finger.

  “Ouch! Dammit! Why is this so hard? Crap.”

  The smiling animal doll, something a child would love,

  seemed to be laughing at him for it.

  “Are you an idiot? So, what do you want?

  To hire a proper female employee, or to call an interior designer?”

  Leaving Max’s fuss behind,

  Frank finally pulled his eyes away from his phone.

  He felt annoyed, as if he were being led on.

  But in the end, he had to ask.

  “Who is it?”

  Frank asked in the most indifferent tone he could muster.

  An uneasy feeling began to creep up on him,

  as if a name he didn't want to hear was about to come out.

  Max rubbed his aching finger,

  a sly smile spreading across his face as he took his time.

  “Maya Bridges.”

  The moment he heard that name,

  a memory he wanted to forget flashed by,

  and a chilling sense of anxiety washed over his entire body.

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