"What the hell is wrong with you? I give you a tiny task and you can't even handle that? All you do is watch Resident Evil videos and Let's Plays during work hours. Is this your attitude?"
The bloated man sat in his executive chair, slamming a stack of documents onto the desk with a heavy thud. His eyes bulged with rage, looking like he was about to devour someone whole.
Noah stood on the opposite side of the desk, glaring right back at the man.
"Manager, you audited and signed off on those files personally before I submitted them to headquarters," Noah said, taking a deep breath and speaking slowly.
Even though he was living paycheck to paycheck on a meager salary, this job was his lifeline. He couldn't afford to let a moment of anger risk his livelihood.
"Talking back now, are you?"
The furious man hadn't expected Noah to retort. His anger spiked, and he stared at Noah with increasing malice.
"You play Resident Evil games on company time. Combine that with this work error, and I'm deducting your entire performance bonus for the month. That should cover the losses you've caused the company."
"Manager, I finished organizing those files and handed them to you a week ago. You said you needed to review them, so I didn't rush you. But what I submitted was the material you signed off on. Even if there are errors in the preparation, you were the one who audited and authorized it!"
Noah paused, glancing at the materials on the desk.
"Furthermore, the documents you had me submit are different from the ones I originally presented. So, even if there are losses, you can't pin them on me!"
"If I don't pin it on you, who do I pin it on? Me?!"
SMACK.
The seated man finally exploded, slapping his heavy hand against the solid wood desk.
"With the damage you've caused, I'm already being benevolent by not making you spend the next few months working it off. And you're still worried about one month's salary? Don't forget, it's a fact that you play games in the office. The surveillance cameras recorded it!"
The fat man paused, his voice dropping to a menacing growl.
"If you still want to make a living in this industry, admit your mistake and take responsibility!"
"Manager, you keep bringing up Resident Evil. Yes, I enjoy the game, but I never played during business hours. If you check the footage, you'll just see me staying late after work, not slacking off during the day."
"Footage is footage. In this company, that's all I need. If I say it counts, it counts!"
At this moment, the short, unreasonable, fat-faced man looked exactly like a zombie, attempting to gnaw away at Noah's confidence, courage, and future.
Yes, I like Resident Evil. Yes, I played games in the office!
But that was at 11:00 PM, right after I finished overtime sending materials to you, you brain-dead pig. Who was the one who told me to wait in the office for news and not leave until further revisions were made?
I used the time while you were editing the draft to play for a bit, and now it's your leverage? You bring it up every time, every day, even mentioning it twice during department meetings.
I just wanted to work hard while I'm still single and have no kids, but to you, that apparently means I volunteered to be a slave.
Damn it. If I could, I'd really like to turn you into a zombie, chain you to this chair, and let you stare at me while being unable to reach me. I'd let the hunger accompany you every second while you rot as a walking corpse, utterly helpless!
"I'll say this one last time," the manager sneered. "If you want to survive in this industry, you better show some respect and admit your mistake right now."
He leaned forward, making the threat unmistakable.
"Otherwise, I'll call every contact I have in this industry. You won't be able to find another job even if you resign!"
The fat man laughed loudly at the thought. He felt he'd completely cornered Noah.
Since joining the company, Noah had forgotten to eat and sleep, studying and working day and night to finally achieve his current status in the industry. If a few phone calls from this man could ruin his future...
Then...
Then!
Then it seems this industry isn't as great as I imagined.
Might as well change careers sooner rather than later.
Noah smiled.
Sometimes that's how it goes. You don't get a fresh start until you hit rock bottom.
But this man in front of him was truly sickening!
"Make the calls. You talk like I'm actually afraid of you," Noah said, his voice hard.
This sudden attitude shift took the fat man by surprise. "You!"
"Oh, right, Manager. I forgot to tell you something about the materials you mentioned. There's a detail I didn't get a chance to explain."
"Hmph, still stubborn even now. I'm sending the video of you playing games to HR immediately. I'll have them find any justifiable reason to fire you so you don't get a single cent of severance pay!"
While the fat man was shouting, Noah had already walked over to the waiting-area couch in the office and sat down.
"See? You won't even let me finish. How are we supposed to have a conversation?"
Noah's tone became increasingly calm. He knew that his outstanding ability and social skills had unintentionally upstaged the manager countless times, causing the man to harbor a long-standing grudge.
That was why, before submitting the materials, Noah had been careful.
"The set of data I submitted to you was synchronized via the internal server. A copy was sent to you, and it was also saved in the company's central database."
Noah paused, looking directly at the fat man.
The realization hit the manager.
"So, regarding how these errors appeared in the file... I think if we pull the logs from the database, everything will be crystal clear at a glance!"
"Fuck."
The fat man suddenly realized he had completely forgotten about the backups.
"Don't get cocky! You played games at work!"
"Yeah, I love playing games. I especially love Resident Evil because even the bloody, nightmare-inducing zombies with no consciousness are better than a beast like you in human skin!"
"I would rather be in that treacherous biohazard world than be surrounded by trash like you!!"
Noah retorted fiercely, his words sharp and aggressive.
Seeing that the fat man could no longer suppress his temper and was about to stand up, rush over, and slap him across the face...
The fat man's movement stopped. He froze like a puppet that had its strings cut.
His arm hung suspended in mid-air, his eyes staring blankly ahead.
Everything froze.
Living beings, inanimate objects—everything locked in place in an instant.
Even the air itself felt thick and unmoving, as if time had stopped.
At that moment, a female voice suddenly surfaced in Noah's mind.
Wise, yet gentle.
The voice was soft, almost hypnotic, making it easy to lose focus.
"You said you would rather be in that treacherous biohazard world. Is that true?"
Noah looked around. Aside from the frozen surroundings, he saw no one.
Only then did he realize the voice was being transmitted directly into his brain.
"If the world I'm killing myself to survive in looks like this... then yes!"
"Can you confirm that again?"
"I said, YES!!"
Noah answered with absolute certainty.
At this moment, he still thought this was all just a hallucination born of stress.
He didn't know that this momentary confirmation would change his life forever.