Real Estate Fable EP.6 — The Tiger in a Suit

🐅 Real Estate Fable EP.6

The Tiger in a Suit
When business isn’t driven by sincerity.
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Phop wasn’t new.
He’d been a property agent for years —
steady, respected, quietly successful.
.
He started small —
selling townhomes and single houses owned by retirees.
Modest listings. Honest sellers.
Deals without glamour, but filled with trust.
.
Each closing built another brick in his reputation.
Clients referred friends.
Sellers recommended him to relatives.
His name grew — not loud, but solid.
.
Then one day, opportunity called. Literally.
A voice on the line said,

“I have 120 rai of land by the river.
I’d like you to take a look, Khun Phop.”
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It wasn’t just the size —
or the riverfront location in a prime development zone.
It was who owned it.
A former high-ranking politician —
the kind of name you didn’t need to Google.
Everyone already knew it.
.
They met in person.
Phop kept calm, though his heart raced.
“Yes, sir. I’ll handle everything personally.”
The man smiled.
“Good. I’m giving this deal to you alone.
A friend said you’re reliable.”
.
That sentence lit a fire in him.
This wasn’t just a deal.
It was the deal.
.
Phop got to work —
surveying the area,
checking utilities, flood history, title deeds, zoning.
He compiled every document,
built a full investment brief in both Thai and English,
created drone footage with voiceover narration and soft background music.
All paid from his own pocket.
.
The owner had said:
“If you close it, 3% commission. No negotiation.”
3% of 1.5 billion baht.
He smiled. Life-changing.
.
For seven months, he filtered prospects carefully —
no speculators, no price flippers, no grey-area agents.
He wanted this deal to be clean.
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Finally, he found a serious buyer —
a foreign developer partnered with a major Thai firm.
They toured the site.
Interest was real.
.
Phop stood by through every step —
translation, negotiation, logistics, paperwork.
He wasn’t just an agent anymore —
he was a consultant, a bridge between worlds.
.
And then it happened.
A price was agreed: 1.42 billion baht.
Both sides satisfied.
Transfer day set.
Taxes, fees, payments arranged.
.
It was perfect.
The owner even said,
“Thank you, Phop.
Without you, this wouldn’t have closed so smoothly.”
He smiled — fighting back tears of pride.
.
A week passed. No payment.
Two weeks. Still nothing.
He followed up politely.
“We’re just finalizing the accounts, it’s a big amount,” they said.
.
One month later — silence.
He called the secretary.
“Boss is in meetings. Still waiting for his signature.”
He called the owner directly — no answer.
.
Finally, he contacted the buyer,
“Has the payment to the seller been made?”
The buyer replied,
“Yes. Everything’s settled.
We have no record of anyone named Phop involved in this deal.”
.
His heart dropped.
Cold, empty.
He realized —
he wasn’t on any MOU.
No contract.
No written commission clause.
Only words.
.
Warm words.
Smiles.
Promises.
And his own sincerity —
worthless in a jungle of suits and handshakes.
.
He sat alone in his condo,
looking at receipts, ad invoices, travel logs —
everything he’d invested.
Every message he’d trusted.
And accepted the truth:
He’d earned nothing. Not a single baht.
.
Not just broke —
but betrayed.
By someone he respected.
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He spoke with a lawyer.
Yes, he could sue.
But the cost, the time, the power imbalance —
made him pause.
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So he didn’t fight.
He just learned.
.
A few weeks later,
he closed a small house sale again —
the kind he’d always done.
The elderly seller handed him a small envelope.
“You helped me a lot, son. Here’s a little something.”
He smiled, tears falling quietly.
.
He didn’t quit.
But he changed.
No more trust without paper.
No more deals without contracts.
Every effort must be “worth it by itself.”
Even if no one pays.
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Today, Phop’s back to selling 3–5 million baht homes.
But now he knows —
bigger isn’t better.
Fame doesn’t equal honesty.
.
And true success in this profession
isn’t in the size of the deal —
but in the fairness of it.
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Because in real estate,
the “tigers” aren’t wild beasts in jungles.
They walk on two legs,
wear suits,
and speak softly in meeting rooms.
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End of Fable.

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