Chapter 22: It Passed
The following morning, Timothy barely had time to sip his coffee before the hum of engines announced their arrival.
Two SUVs pulled up outside Flawless Auto Resale—one a gleaming white Prado, the other a black Alphard. Their tinted windows rolled down just enough for a driver to wave toward Timothy’s gate.
He opened it himself, hiding the slight tension in his chest.
Five men stepped out. Two in crisp polo shirts carrying briefcases, the kind that screamed lawyers. Another pair wore Toyota Motor Philippines jackets, mechanics judging by their calloused hands and tool bags. The fifth, older, carried himself with the weight of authority—likely an auditor or accountant.
Timothy pasted on a professional smile. "Good morning, gentlemen. You must be here on behalf of Ms. Co."
The older man gave a curt nod. "That’s correct. We’re here to inspect the Lexus RX 350 she intends to purchase. I trust it’s ready?"
Timothy gestured toward the far end of the lot, where the metallic Lexus shimmered under the scaffolding. "It’s waiting for you."
The team moved with military precision. One lawyer began sorting through documents at Timothy’s desk, checking OR, CR, and deed of sale drafts. The accountant hovered nearby, flipping through photocopies.
Meanwhile, the mechanics descended on the SUV.
One crouched immediately, flashlight in hand, scanning the underbody for telltale rust. The other opened the hood, pulling out a diagnostic scanner.
The Lexus’ engine bay looked like a surgical theater—gleaming plastics, spotless hoses, immaculate metal. The mechanic ran a rag across the dipstick, sniffed, frowned, then checked the coolant reservoir. Every fluid looked brand new.
The scanner beeped, running its cycle.
The first mechanic glanced at his partner. "Zero codes. No errors."
"That’s impossible," the second muttered, brows furrowed. "Even a lightly used unit should throw something—an ABS log, a minor voltage discrepancy. This is... clean."
Timothy kept his hands folded behind his back.
The first mechanic straightened, eyes narrowing. "Mr. Guerrero, Ms. Co told us this Lexus was acquired cheap due to flood damage. Is that true?"
"Yes," Timothy said evenly. "It came from a seller who couldn’t handle the restoration. I bought it in that condition."
"Then where are the signs?" The man’s voice sharpened. "A flooded car always leaves scars. Rust hidden under carpets. Mud in the crevices. Corrosion in connectors. Even if you overhaul everything, some trace always lingers." He gestured sharply at the RX. "This has nothing. Not even the faint smell. It’s... as if it never touched water."
Timothy met his stare without flinching. "That’s the point of what I do. Restoration down to the smallest detail."
The second mechanic pulled open the passenger door, yanked the carpets aside, and ran his hand along the seams. Bone dry. No residue, no rust flakes. He checked the bolts on the seats—pristine, like they’d never been touched.
His frown deepened. "This looks factory. Every single bolt torqued to spec. Every seam clean."
He straightened, turning to Timothy. "Tell me honestly—did you swap the entire chassis? Because if you did, then this isn’t the same car you bought."
Timothy allowed a faint smile. "No chassis swaps. Same unit. Every part refurbished, replaced, or restored to original specification."
The first mechanic crossed his arms. "That would take a workshop larger than anything in Tondo. Not to mention millions in capital. How did you—"
The accountant had been listening quietly. Now he looked up from the paperwork. "The numbers line up. OR and CR are clean, no encumbrances. Deed of sale is standard template. Everything legal."
One of the lawyers closed his folder with a snap. "From a legal standpoint, I see no red flags. The transaction is valid."
The first mechanic wasn’t satisfied. He approached Timothy again, eyes sharp. "Tell me this, Mr. Guerrero. If I buy a car from you that’s been through flood, will it really last? Electronics, sensors, hybrid systems—those fail after months, not weeks."
My reputation depends on it lasting. Every car I sell, I stand behind. If I let even one fail, Flawless Auto Resale is finished. So I make sure they don’t."
The mechanic studied him, waiting for cracks. There were none.
Finally, the older man—clearly the leader—stepped forward. "Enough. We’ve seen all we need to see. The Lexus RX passes inspection."
The mechanics looked reluctant but said nothing.
Timothy inclined his head respectfully. "Thank you, gentlemen. I’ll have the final papers ready for Ms. Co’s review. Once payment is arranged, the car is hers."
They packed up slowly, the lawyers stacking documents, the mechanics stowing their tools. The Prado and Alphard engines roared to life again, rolling out of the narrow Tondo street as neighbors peeked curiously from doorways.
The following morning, Timothy barely finished arranging the chairs in his office when another car rolled up to the gate. This time, it wasn’t an entourage of lawyers or mechanics—it was a sleek black LC300.
The rear door opened, and Tiffany Co stepped out, heels clicking against the pavement. She looked perfectly composed, as always, yet there was something sharper in her eyes this time.
"Good morning," she said simply.
"Morning," Timothy replied, opening the gate wide. "Your team was thorough yesterday. The Lexus passed."
Tiffany nodded once, her gaze drifting past him toward the SUV parked under the scaffolding. "I expected nothing less. My father’s men don’t miss details."
She walked directly to the RX 350, trailing her hand along its fender as though she already owned it. "I’ll take it," she said, turning to face him. "₱4.5 million, as you quoted."
Timothy blinked, momentarily caught off guard by her decisiveness. "We can finalize the papers now. I have everything prepared."
They stepped into the container office, where Tiffany reviewed the documents with the same meticulousness as her lawyers had. Her signature flowed across the page with steady grace, and within the hour, the Lexus RX 350 officially transferred to her name.
The transfer slip and payment confirmation rested on the desk between them—₱4.5 million wired directly into Timothy’s BDO account.
He exhaled, offering a polite smile. "Congratulations. The RX is yours."
"Thank you, so see you in our tutoring session?"
"Yes."