In this gripping tale, our fierce protagonist, named 𝐊𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐘𝐧, finds herself stripped of everything after a devastating divorce. Determined to seek justice for herself and her family, she hits rock bottom, struggling to even put food on t...
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The room was a battlefield — not of bullets and blood, but of strained nerves and simmering frustration. After two consecutive days of relentless toil, their deadline had finally arrived — a merciless, unyielding countdown that had driven everyone to the brink. Sleepless eyes twitched, fingers trembled from overuse, and minds teetered dangerously close to breaking.
The clock struck midnight — a hollow chime that echoed like a death knell through the tension-cloaked space. The sound barely faded before someone snapped, their voice raw and jagged with exhaustion.
"Ah, I can’t stand this anymore! This is insane! We can’t possibly finish all this!"
A second voice followed, equally strained and brittle.
"That’s right! My eyes are practically bleeding, and I’m still nowhere near done!"
The desperation rippled outward like wildfire.
"Did anyone actually finish their task?"
A dismal silence swallowed the room. A handful of tired hands lifted — barely enough to count on one side of a dice. The rest slumped in defeat, their incomplete work glaring like scars across their consoles.
"I told you we wouldn’t finish it," someone muttered bitterly, their voice dripping with resentment.
And then came the inevitable demand — sharp, cold, and laced with hostility.
"Where’s Kimeron Yn?"
The name spat like venom.
"Tell her to come and look at this herself! How does she expect us to finish a mission this impossible?"
The words barely hung in the air when Yn emerged from the main control room. The sharp clack of her boots against the cold floor was like a hammer striking steel. Her face was impassive, eyes shadowed from fatigue yet sharp enough to cut glass.
The moment she appeared, the more senior technicians surged forward, their pent-up frustration exploding like a dam bursting.
"Miss Yn, take a look for yourself!" one barked, practically shoving a pile of incomplete data sheets into her hands. "We’ve all been breaking our backs, but it’s impossible to finish this! Your arrangement was wrong — plain and simple! This isn’t just frustrating; it’s killing morale!"
Another voice, strained yet biting, chimed in.
"It’s not that we didn’t try to cooperate with you — we did. But look around! Almost none of us could finish the work. This whole setup was doomed from the start!"
Then came the voice that carried a sharper edge — one dipped in malice rather than mere frustration.
"That’s why I said you shouldn’t play leader when you clearly don’t understand our work," Shu Mei sneered, her tone sweetly venomous. Her arms crossed over her chest in mock superiority.
