Lookism:Legends

The room had quieted after the clash. Tom Lee rotated his arm with a grunt, the shoulder still sore but functional. Jalen stood nearby, breathing steady now, eyes never leaving Tom's.

"You've got talent," Tom muttered, grabbing his jacket from the side. "But I don't train for free."

Jalen raised a brow. "What do you want, then?"

Tom lit a new cigarette, exhaling slowly as he leaned against the wall. "If you want my knowledge, you'll need to work at the White Tiger Job Center under me. Real experience. Real jobs. Six months."

Jalen didn't flinch. He expected something like this. "Six months, huh?"

Tom nodded. "If you want power, you've gotta give something for it. Besides…" He grinned. "You'll see the kind of world you're stepping into. Ain't just about throwing hands."

Jalen thought for a moment. He knew Tom Lee well from his past reading the man wasn't just about strength. He loved efficiency, and more importantly... he loved money.

He reached into his hoodie pocket, pulled out a thick envelope, and casually tossed it on a nearby chair.

Tom raised an eyebrow. "What's this?"

"An early donation," Jalen said. "Let's say, a thank you. One month's worth of your time."

Tom opened the envelope, thumbed through the contents, and gave a low whistle. "You rich kids really are built different."

"So," Jalen crossed his arms, "Two months?"

Tom gave a soft chuckle. "Two months. But I'm not going easy on you. Every job, every assignment you do it like your life depends on it."

Jalen smirked. "That's exactly how I like it."

Tom took one last drag from his cigarette before crushing it underfoot.

"Alright then, welcome to the White Tiger Job Center. Let's see if your fists are worth the money you flash."