I Was Sent Into A Shitty Urban Chapter 21 - .21

It was the day after the verdict.

News of Lang and Park’s conviction had hit the city like a thunderclap. Jason didn’t even need to check trending topics—he already knew. From street corners to office break rooms, their nas were on every tongue.

Social dia was ablaze:

"Life in prison. Good."

"How the hell did this case move so fast? Soone powerful wanted this buried or exposed. No in-between."

"Vanessa Clark deserved better. I hope her family can rest now."

"I swear, seeing Park cry on the stand was the highlight of my week."

"Lang really thought he’d walk with an apology. LMAO."

Jason scrolled casually through the comnts while seated in the back of a quiet, chauffeured car. The sky outside was overcast, clouds hanging low over the skyline. It made the entire city feel subdued—as if it were collectively processing what had just happened.

Jason clicked on to a new live stream.

Across the city, people tuned in.

On a small platform flanked by reporters and microphones, Hendricks faced the world.

At the center of the broadcast stood Hendricks.

Not the trembling man Jason had pulled from beneath the bridge, but soone reborn. He wore a fitted navy-blue suit, sharp against the backdrop of caras and flashing lights. His posture was steady. His expression firm. And in his eyes burned a quiet determination—the kind that couldn’t be faked.

Daisy had helped him prepare. The dia knew nothing of that, but Jason did. He could see it in every breath Hendricks took, every pause he let linger before his next word.

He stepped up to the podium and took a slow breath as cara shutters clicked around him.

"Good morning," he began. "Before I say anything else, let first introduce myself. So of you watching may know . So of you... may not."

He looked directly into the caras now, his voice steady despite the weight in it.

"My na is Hendricks Sang. A few months ago, I was living under a bridge with nothing but the clothes on my back. I was holess. Jobless. Forgotten. My na ant nothing to anyone—not even to myself."

The murmurs in the crowd hushed. Reporters leaned in.

"About a year ago, I was just another na on the payroll," Hendricks Sang began, his voice steady. "I showed up on ti. Did my work. Never caused trouble. But sotis... trouble finds you anyway."

He paused, letting the words settle.

"I didn’t go looking for anything. I wasn’t trying to be a hero. I just happened to see sothing—sothing that didn’t sit right. And for that... I was cast out. Silenced. Frad. My na was blacklisted, my record wiped clean of anything good. I lost my job, my ho, and for a long ti, I lost myself."

"What I went through nearly broke ... but even that doesn’t co close to the cruelty Vanessa Clark experienced."

"Vanessa was not just a colleague—she was a friend. A kind person. Soone who didn’t deserve what happened to her. What Lang and Park did to her...

He glanced down, then back up.

"But soone did sothing no one else ever did. They helped . Believed in . And gave a second chance. Because of that—because of him—I stand here today."

A slow hush fell over the press row.

"The company forrly under the leadership of Gerard Lang and Dae‑Hyun Park no longer exists. In na, in structure, or in spirit. It is gone. And in its place is sothing new."

He adjusted the mic slightly.

"Effective imdiately, the company will now be known as V. Clark Creative Solutions. Not just in rembrance—but in defiance. This na carries the mory of soone who paid the ultimate price for speaking truth to power. We carry it forward to ensure that never happens again."

Flashbulbs fired. So reporters even lowered their caras, struck by the gravity of his words.

"This rebrand is not just costic. It’s structural. Ethical. We are rebuilding from the foundation up. New policies. New oversight. A new board. And a renewed commitnt to integrity."

He exhaled slowly, then offered the smallest of smiles.

"I’ll be serving as the new face of the company. Not because I’m perfect—but because I’ve seen the worst. I’ve lived it. And I know what it ans to claw your way back from the bottom."

He folded his hands briefly, then gave a final nod.

"This rebrand isn’t just a change in na or leadership — it’s a commitnt. To the people who were hurt. To the ones still trying to do right. And to the promise that what happened under Lang and Park will never happen again."

He stepped back from the mic as the room erupted—not with shouts, but with applause. Reporters calling his na. Caras clicking in a frenzy.

Jason leaned back in his chair, tablet still streaming the press conference.

He didn’t smile. He simply nodded once, as if checking off a box.

Jason closed the tablet, the press conference having ended minutes ago. He leaned back in his chair, silent for a mont.

His mind drifted to the conversation he’d had with Hendricks earlier.

They were in a eting room just off the main floor—simple, quiet, no suits, no board mbers. Just him and Hendricks at a round table.

Daisy had brought them coffee, then quietly left. Hendricks held the cup like it might break in his hands, clearly still adjusting to this new world.

Jason leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table.

"I’m planning to take over Nova form Studio."

Hendricks blinked. "You’re... what?"

"After the trial," Jason said, "Lang had no leverage. His reputation’s destroyed, and the shareholders scattered. I already bought up most of them. This morning, he handed over the rest of his shares—for free."

Hendricks stared at him, stunned.

Jason continued. "The company’s worthless in na, but the infrastructure? The staff? The license rights? That’s value. And it’s mine now."

He paused, then looked Hendricks square in the eye.

"I’m rebranding it. New na, new direction, new leadership. And I want you to be the face of that shift."

"?" Hendricks asked, eyebrows raised.

"You were part of the company when it was at its worst," Jason said. "You got burned for trying to do the right thing. That gives you credibility I’ll never have. When people see you up there, they’ll know this isn’t just so PR stunt."

Hendricks looked down at his hands. "I still don’t think I’m that guy. I’m not so poster boy for redemption."

Jason shook his head. "You don’t need to be polished. You just need to tell the truth. They fired you. They ruined you. And you still got back up. That’s what people will listen to."

There was silence for a beat.

Then Hendricks gave a short, quiet nod. "Alright. I’ll try."