Logistics Strikes Back: Fire Me, Lose Everything

The stainless steel bowl—the one used not only to feed dogs but also to hold leftover scraps—now glinted with a harsh, cold light.Standing on the raised stage, my boss held the envelope that was originally meant for me. His eyes brimmed with mockery.I took a deep breath.Instead of lowering my head to pick up that so-called "reward" like I always did, I raised my hand and removed the work badge that had hung around my neck for five years.With a light flick of my wrist, the badge traced a clean arc through the air and landed with perfect accuracy in the greasy dog bowl. The splash of leftover broth even spattered onto the sales champion's pair of gleaming leather shoes.The laughter in the room stopped instantly."Sandra, what the hell?!"The Administrative Director, Vanessa Martin, stormed out of the crowd, her ten-centimeter red-soled heels striking sharply against the floor. The evening gown she had specially ordered for the annual party now looked strained, tightened by he

Only when the air is stripped away will those high-and-mighty elites understand what suffocation truly feels like.I raised a hand and flagged down a taxi."Home, please."My phone vibrated—a bank notification. My salary had been deposited.Just the base pay. No year-end bonus. They had even deducted the past few days' attendance.A moment later, a message popped up on WhatsApp.Vanessa: [Sandra, don't think you're off the hook just because you left. If you dare spread rumors about the company, I'll sue you for defamation.]They probably really believed that discount had come from the boss's personal charm. Now that I was gone, the favor was gone. Everything would return to its true, transactional nature.…The holidays began.The first thing I did after returning to my hometown was switch my phone to silent.I blocked my ex-boss, Vanessa, and those former colleagues who used to do nothing but tag me in group chats—"change the water," "fix the lights," "pick up deliveries."

After the New Year holiday, everyone went back to work.For most employees, it was a miserable day. For me, it was something to look forward to.I sat on my balcony at home, a cup of hot coffee in my hands, my phone resting on my lap, the screen glowing.Lisa was giving me a "live broadcast".At 8:30 a.m., dozens of people were crowded at the company entrance. The fingerprint lock had run out of power, and Vanessa couldn't find the backup key. Everyone stood in the hallway, bundled in down jackets, stomping their feet as complaints rose one after another.In the end, they had to call a locksmith to pry the door open.Once inside, they found the office as cold as an ice cellar.During the holiday, the building had shut off heating to vacant floors to conserve energy.In the past, I would call the property engineering department two days in advance to request early heating for the 15th and 16th floors.Now, with no one applying, those two floors sat in the cold, relying only on

Then I blocked Vanessa.As I looked out at the night, I knew this was only the collapse on the surface—the physical breakdown.What came next would be financial.…Just a few days later, the property manager showed up at the company entrance with a lawyer's letter in hand, right at the elevator lobby on the 15th floor—in front of all the employees."Mr. Simpson, given that your company's 'key liaison,' Sandra Muller, has resigned, the preferential terms outlined in the contract's supplementary clause are now officially terminated."The manager spoke in a strictly professional tone as he handed over a thick stack of documents."Starting this month, the rent for the 15th and 16th floors will revert to the listed market rate. Additionally, you'll need to make up the difference in property management fees for the past half month."The boss took the documents and flipped through a few pages. His eyes widened in disbelief."Half a million?! Why don't you just rob us?!"He lost his

I opened the door, but kept the security chain latched."Do you need something?"I looked at them coldly through the narrow gap."Sandra! It's me!"The moment Mr. Simpson saw me, his face twisted into an awkward and ugly smile."Sandra, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry! I lost my mind before—I was possessed or something. That's the only reason I accused you of stealing company secrets. I even had Vanessa prepare a smear campaign—posting online, leaking your photos to humiliate you. I know I was wrong. Please, just forgive me this once!"As he spoke, he tried to shove the gift bags through the crack in the door.Vanessa stood beside him, her face pale, her eyes darting nervously.The moment he finished speaking, Mr. Simpson shot her a vicious glare, his tone shifting as he pushed all the blame onto her."It was her! Vanessa put the idea in my head! She said you were holding a grudge and planning to get back at the company. She told me a little online harassment, posting your photos in h