Chapter 3

The "highly valuable" plaque fell into the trash bin, which had already been filled with waste paper and food wrappers.

The plaque was too long, so half of it was sticking out of the bin.

"You!" Peter's eyes widened. "Soren! How dare you throw away the company's honor?"

"Honor?" I dusted off my hands. "I wouldn't even display this thing in my toilet—it's too trashy.

"Since you gave it to me, it's mine, and I can do whatever I want with it."

I turned to look at Peter, my expression calm. "Peter, remember what you said today. You said I don't deserve the commission, and that I'm a money-hungry nobody.

"I hope you won't come begging to this nobody later."

Peter was shaking with anger. He grabbed his cup from the table, wanting to smash it, but he couldn't bear to part with his favorite cup. So, he forcibly held back.

"Get out! Get the hell out right now!"

"Finance! Settle his wages, then kick him out!"

"I'd better not see you in this industry ever again!"

Beside him, Curtis flamed the fans. "Where's security? Call them over! Don't let him steal anything from the company!"

I ignored them. I just went straight back to my workstation and quickly packed up my personal belongings.

There wasn't much to pack, really. It was just a cup and a few books.

As for the client files? They were all in my head.

Besides, these clients recognized me, not this crappy company.

I walked out while carrying a cardboard box.

As I passed by the reception desk, the receptionist, Lily Turner, looked at me sympathetically.

"Soren, are you really leaving?" she asked.

"Yeah, I am."

I smiled at her. "This place has bad vibes. You'll go broke if you stay too long."

Behind me came the sound of Peter roaring in the meeting room. He was still cursing up a storm.

I walked to the elevator and looked back at the office. This floor was about 10,000 square feet, and it was in a good location, right in the heart of the CBD.

Back then, Peter insisted on renting this place purely to show off. The rent here wasn't cheap.

I pressed the down button on the elevator. The elevator doors slowly closed, cutting off the noise.

I took out my phone and dialed a contact saved as "Gary".

Gary Rhodes was the property manager of this office building.

"Hello, Mr. Neal? How may I assist you?" Gary asked respectfully.

"Tomorrow morning, bring the lease contract for this floor to the lobby and wait for me."

"Understood, Mr. Neal. Are there some changes happening?"

As I looked at my somewhat tired face in the elevator mirror, I smirked lightly. "A big change."

I, too, wanted to see for myself just how much "perspective" Peter really had.

…

The next day, at ten in the morning, I woke up late and stretched. Even the air seemed fresher to me.

After washing up, I put on a T-shirt, slipped into flip-flops, and hung a bunch of keys from my waist.

I hailed a cab and headed straight to the company—no, wait—straight to my building.

When I arrived at the lobby, Gary, dressed in a suit, was already waiting there with two security guards.

At the sight of me, not only did he show no contempt, but he even lowered his head in greeting.

"Mr. Neal, you've arrived."

"Did you bring the contract?" I asked.

"Yes, everything is here." Gary handed over a folder.

I flipped through it. The lease term was due to expire next month, and it was initially set to renew automatically.

"Let's go. Time to collect the rent."

I shook the keys at my waist, making a metallic jangling sound.

The elevator went straight to the 18th floor.