In stark contrast, Mr. Quinton was a man of privilege, born into a renowned second-generation wealthy family. From the moment he entered the world, he had never known financial hardship.

Zachary found himself in a difficult position; he didn’t wish to offend Mr. Quinton, yet he was equally reluctant to compromise the principles governing antique trading. He kept glancing at Charlie, hoping he would reconsider.

Charlie recognized Zachary’s silent plea, but he remained unfazed, responding with a calm, “No.”

Zachary, feeling utterly helpless, sat down on the ground, grunting in anticipation of another kick from Mr. Quinton.

“Look at how pathetic you are!” Mr. Quinton shouted, glaring at Zachary. He then turned his attention to Charlie, boasting, “You purchased this pebble for three hundred dollars? I’ll give you thirty thousand dollars if you hand it over!”

The crowd gasped collectively upon hearing Mr. Quinton’s offer, their gazes shifting to Charlie, filled with envy. He had bought the pebble for a mere three hundred dollars, and just like that, its value had soared by a staggering hundred times in mere minutes! This was undoubtedly a lucrative transaction for Charlie.

It was evident to everyone that the stall owner had likely gathered the pebble from a river or beach, as similar pebbles were abundant in those locations.

Jacob felt a rush of excitement at Mr. Quinton’s proposition. If Charlie sold the pebble, it would not only yield a profit for him but also help offset the losses Jacob had incurred with the stall owner the previous day.

However, Charlie simply lifted his head and smiled at Mr. Quinton, stating, “As I mentioned earlier, I’m not selling this pebble. Even if you offer me three hundred thousand dollars, I still won’t part with it.”

“You!”

Mr. Quinton’s expression darkened, fury flashing in his eyes.

The onlookers buzzed with chatter, speculating whether Charlie’s refusal was an intentional humiliation directed at Mr. Quinton.

“You lowlife! Are you challenging me?” Mr. Quinton sneered at Charlie. “Do you honestly believe there’s anything on Antique Street that I can’t afford?”

“Today, if I don’t get what I want, no one will!”

With that, Mr. Quinton signaled for his bodyguards to step in.

In an instant, the bodyguards rushed forward, encircling Charlie.

The crowd watched in shock, while Jacob stood frozen in disbelief.

The Quinton family? They wielded even more power and wealth than the White family!

No wonder Mr. Quinton had casually spent nine thousand dollars on a pair of fake celadon cups; to him, it was pocket change. The authenticity of the antique didn’t matter; he bought what he pleased simply because he could!

Meanwhile, the bodyguards closed in on Charlie menacingly.

Concerned that the situation might spiral out of control, Jacob glanced at Charlie, silently urging him to give the pebble to Mr. Quinton.

Yet, Charlie remained undeterred, staring down the bodyguards and asserting, “I stand firm in my decision. I will not sell this pebble. Whatever you do, it’s not for sale. What belongs to me is mine. No one, not even God, can take it from me.”

“I’ll show you that I can take it!” Mr. Quinton retorted haughtily. “Let me make something clear: I am God. You are just a nobody who has made a grave mistake. Are you tired of living?”