Strongest Hammer God novel Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Chapter 1 – Suppression

"$12,378.28, huh?" a young man said as he read a letter.

The man looked to be in his early twenties and had brown hair. The bags under his eyes made it seem like he hadn't had a good night's rest in a long time.

The next moment, the man threw the letter into a corner of his packed room.

The room was filled with sheets of paper, clutter, and packaging material.

"That's not enough!" the man shouted with suppressed rage and frustration. "Fucking shitty-ass customers!"

He felt like a mountain of proverbial pressure was pressing down on him, but he quickly shook his head to regain his bearings.

He hated feeling like this.

The man pulled out his phone, and when he saw the image of the lock screen, he had the urge to throw his phone in the corner as well.

Alas, despite the hefty paycheck, he really didn't have any money to spare. So, his phone was spared the same fate as the papers.

There was a good reason why he still lived in a cramped apartment with only a single room.

On the lock screen was the image of him and a beautiful woman smiling, and the man didn't seem nearly as tired and annoyed in the photo.

He opened his banking app, which greeted him with his name.

Kyle Freeman.

A very ironic last name, considering his current situation.

'Fucking name makes you laugh,' he thought. 'Imagine being called Freeman and getting fucked by all sides. Couldn't be me.'

When Kyle saw that the money was already in his account, he felt a surge of anxiety but just pushed it to the side.

Usually, people were happy when their monthly paycheck arrived.

But for Kyle, it was the worst day of the month.

Kyle made a new transaction and put in the amount of $4,200 before authenticating again and completing the transaction.

The reason for the transaction stated alimony payments.

He was back to being in a deficit of only $13,000.

Only was a very appropriate word right now since it had been much worse in the past months.

The next moment, he sent his rent.

Another $2,000.

For a shitty apartment in the worst part of the city.

'Have to put the taxes to the side,' he thought as he transferred more money to another account, which wasn't in the minus.

'Bills, bills, bills,' he thought as his heart raced. 'Fucking hate payday. Good game, though.'

Finally, he was left with his disposable income.

About $4,500.

That would allow him to live comfortably.

Sadly, things weren't that easy.

A couple of minutes later, someone knocked on his door.

Kyle gritted his fists with frustration and rage as his heart clenched with fear and nervousness.

"We know you're home, Kyle," someone said on the other side of the door.

'Ah, fuck,' he thought. 'Really? This soon? Can't give me one day of rest?'

Kyle walked over to the door and opened it.

As soon as he opened the door, he saw four men standing in front of him.

There were two tall and muscular ones wearing biker jackets, a thinner one with a lot of fake jewelry, and a normal-looking guy with a business shirt.

"We saw you got your paycheck," the man in the shirt said evenly before holding out his hand like he was expecting something.

"It's here," Kyle said, his voice sounding higher than he wanted. "I can get-"

"No need," the man in the shirt said as he motioned for the guy with the fake jewelry to walk into the apartment.

Kyle was roughly pushed to the side as the man stepped past him.

The man spotted the paper quickly and handed it to the man with the shirt.

"12k. Not a lot," he commented. "Why is it only 12k this month?"

"Well, the customers-"

"Are we not advertising enough for you?" the man asked, interrupting Kyle.

"No, that's not-"

"We ordered services in excess of $7,000. With all the taxes, that should still net us a good $5,000. I know your financial situation, Kyle, and it doesn't look good."

The man waved the paper around as he looked with a serious expression at Kyle.

"Mr. Hering fears that you might get cold feet."

When Mr. Hering's name fell, Kyle felt his heart shake and a nervous smile appeared on his face.

Mr. Hering was not someone that anyone should mess with.

"Mr. Hering sincerely hopes that your business succeeds," the man in the shirt added. "After all, he is a major investor."

"So, tell me. Why is it only 12k? What do you need to improve revenue?"

The man leaned forward and looked deeply into Kyle's eyes.

Kyle avoided the man's gaze and looked to the side.

"Well, you know..." he said with an uncomfortable smile as sweat ran down his face.

"Yes?" the man urged with a threatening tone.

"It's okay!" Kyle said with more energy. "It will improve next month!"

The man's brows furrowed. "No, you wanted to say something just now. Say it. I want to hear it."

"It wasn't important," Kyle answered.

"It's important to me," the man said with fake sincerity.

"Well," Kyle said, hesitating, "you know that I just had a divorce and that-"

"How is it our problem that you married a narcissistic gold digger?" the man interrupted with a reprimanding tone.

Kyle felt his insides shake as he gritted his teeth and fists in suppressed rage and frustration.

Yet, while his heart wanted him to explode with rage and frustration, his mind told him that this would be a very bad idea.

He really wanted to see this situation in a good light, but he couldn't do the impossible.

These people could do terrible things.

It was their job to do terrible things.

Exploding in rage would cost him his life.

It might not cost him his literal life, but it would cost him everything.

He had already thought about going to the police, but what would that accomplish?

These guys were clean! At least, on the surface.

The most the police could do was to send a couple of patrols his way.

Meanwhile, the tires of his car would be slashed without any evidence.

He would lose all advertising for his business.

Mr. Hering would file a civil suit for diverse things, drowning him in lawyer fees.

And while all of this was happening, he would also have to deal with the criminal court since exposing these people meant admitting to participating in money laundering.

Kyle wanted nothing more than to punch these people who were keeping his life in a vice grip.

But he couldn't!

He was powerless!

"W-well," Kyle said, trying not to say anything stupid. "My divorce is... kind of... related to your money."

The man sneered before looking at the two tall guys blocking the entrance.

One of the tall guys stepped into the apartment, pushing Kyle back.

The others followed, and the other tall guy closed the door behind him.

The man in the shirt leaned into Kyle's face as he slowly waved the paper around.

"And how," he slowly spoke with a deep voice, "is your divorce related to this?"