My Boss Tried to Drag Away a Barefoot Orphan Who Unlocked the Town's Sacred Sword — Then His Son Handed Me the Sealed Letter That Ended His Family's 50-Year Reign
Harlan Croft wasn’t done. Not by a long shot. The day after the posters, before the twenty-four hour sanctuary could expire, he showed the town exactly what economic power meant.
I walked toward the company store that morning, carrying a list Clara had given me for Toby’s fever. The sun was barely above the eastern ridge, but the street was already choked with worried mill workers.
They stood in front of the store, a silent, grim-faced crowd. The manager, a gaunt man named Mr. Abernathy, stood at the entrance, his hands clasped behind his back, his face unreadable.
“What’s happening?” I asked a young man, a new hand at the forge.
He shook his head, his eyes wide with fear. “Mr. Croft issued an order. Freeze all credit. No one gets anything on the books.”
A cold dread seeped into my stomach. The company store was the lifeblood of Pine Ridge. Most families bought their groceries, their lamp oil, their medicine on credit, paid back against their weekly wages.
Without it, they’d starve within days.
“And that’s not all,” another worker chimed in, his voice bitter. “He announced a thirty percent wage deduction. Every worker. Until…”
He didn’t finish the sentence, but his eyes flickered toward me, then quickly away. *Until Arthur surrenders the boy to the county sheriff.*
Harlan was holding the entire town hostage.
Suddenly, a group of armed company overseers emerged from the Croft Iron Works gates, their rifles glinting in the pale morning light. They fanned out, establishing checkpoints at every junction, their presence a stark, brutal warning.
One of them, a hulking man named Briggs, blocked the main road with his rifle held across his chest. “Anyone caught offering shelter or food to the fugitives,” he boomed, his voice gravelly, “will receive an immediate eviction notice. Total expulsion from Pine Ridge.”
A collective gasp went through the crowd. Eviction meant destitution, exile from the only home many of these families had ever known.
A young mother, clutching a small child, began to weep softly. Her husband put a comforting arm around her, but his face was a mask of despair.
I felt a surge of cold fury. Harlan wasn’t just targeting me anymore. He was leveraging the suffering of innocent families to get what he wanted. He was trying to break the town’s will, to force them to turn against me and Toby.
The crowd dispersed slowly, their shoulders slumped. The fear was palpable, thick in the air. Their loyalty to me, if any remained, was no match for the crushing weight of their financial dependence on Croft.
I watched them go, each one carrying the burden of Harlan’s tyranny. The company store lockout wasn’t just an economic maneuver. It was an act of war.
And the twenty-four hour sanctuary period was fast approaching its end. Harlan was tightening the noose, confident that the town would sacrifice us to save themselves.
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