Chapter 2 — The French company paid me 2,000 yuan, the next day the entire chain was paralyzed

France — Monday morning. The atmosphere of the morning meeting was heavy. Pierre stared at the empty chair.

“Where is Lam Vy?”

“An intern dares to go missing?”

Leo whispered:

“We cannot contact Vy.”

Pierre disdained:

"Don't worry. She's just a trainee. When she comes back, she'll be kicked out."

The room door opened. Production line leader Fabien rushed in, panicked:

"Pierre! Something's wrong!"

“Production line — total stop!”

The core system appears to be in disarray — all automation is paralyzed. Pierre shouted at the technical team to go fix it.

“It's just a trainee's system, what's so big about it?”

But in the lab — they're at a loss. It is a completely new architecture. Sophisticated labyrinthine logic. They read and understand each line — but not the whole. Leo panickedly explained:

"Vy uses a proprietary encryption algorithm, deeply embedded in the hardware driver. Can't be fixed haphazardly — will..."

“Shut up!” — Pierre roared.

A technician tried to force a reboot. The error code gets worse. Alarms rang throughout the factory. Damage — hundreds of thousands of euros per hour. Pierre turned pale and was sweating coldly. He finally realized — he had messed up a huge problem. The girl was humiliated with "internship salary" — not a tool. It's the foundation of the whole building. Now — the foundation is pulled out. The building — was collapsing, collapsing before his eyes. Marie called continuously in panic. But only heard the sentence:

“The subscriber you are calling — temporarily unreachable.”

In the country, at a steaming hot pot restaurant, I was chatting with a few friends. The copper pot in the middle of the table boiled, the red oil swirled, and the beef leaves were picked up and down in the fragrant, spicy smoke, making the atmosphere more bustling. A few days since returning home, I have completely relaxed, put aside all troubles, and live the "eat well - sleep well - don't think" style. When my friends heard me recount my month-long journey in France, everyone was angry at him.

"Those Westerners are really playing dirty! It's really too much!"

"Vi Vi, this time you were right to leave! If that kind of person persists, they will climb on top!"

I smiled, picked up a slice of beef, put it in the pot, dipped it a few times and then dipped it in the sauce.

“There's no rush, just let them panic a little longer.”

At that moment, my phone rang. The screen displayed a series of strange numbers from France. I guessed who was calling, so I calmly clicked to decline. My friend curiously asked:

“Probably just some marketing.” I answered without changing my face.

But the other side clearly refused to give up. The call was rejected and then immediately called back, over and over again, extremely persistently. Amid the noise of the hot pot restaurant, the bell rang every now and then, making me feel more and more annoyed. Finally, I frowned:

“Okay, let's see what else they do.”

I slid the answer button and turned on the speakerphone. A high-pitched female voice, both sharp and filled with anger, rang out from the other end — it was Mary, the head of human resources.

"Lin Vi! You finally answered the phone!"

His tone was not like someone asking for help, but like he was scolding a subordinate for not listening. I didn't answer, just raised my eyebrows at everyone, signaling to continue eating and drinking as if nothing happened. Perhaps Mary thought I was silent because I knew I was sorry, so my tone became more and more arrogant.

“Listen, if you voluntarily quit your job, the company has decided not to pursue you anymore.”

“You immediately, immediately Now buy a plane ticket back, the production line needs you.”

“Once we get back, we can… discuss the official transfer.”

She just finished speaking, I still haven't answered. At this time, the hot pot boiled loudly, a sweet aroma rose up, and I just found it funny. Do you really think I will obediently return just because of those threats? The whole party table suddenly fell silent, my friends all stopped their chopsticks and stared at the phone sitting on the table - their eyes were as if they were looking at an idiot who had just called. I laughed out loud. The clear laughter rang out through the signal transmission line, and it must have made their lungs explode when they heard it across the ocean. Mary screamed into the phone, her voice sharp as metal:

“What are you laughing at?! Do you know how much damage you caused?!”

I leisurely picked up a piece of watermelon, took a bite, and the cool sweetness spread throughout my mouth. Then, I picked up the phone and calmly answered exactly one sentence:

“Oh, is that so?”

Then I definitely... turned off the phone. Before Mary could call back, another number jumped onto the screen — it was Pierre. Without hesitation, I continued to refuse. My friends couldn't hold it in anymore, holding their stomachs and laughing so hard:

“Vi Vi, oh my god, you are so cool! We really need to teach them a lesson!”

At that moment, a notification from WeChat popped up — a voice message. Maybe he realized he couldn't finish calling, so he quickly turned to social networks. I looked at the 30-second voice clip, hesitated a bit, then turned on the speakerphone. Just a second later, Pierre's angry screams echoed throughout the private room in the hot pot restaurant:

“Lin Vi! You're a piece of shit! What did you do to the system?!”

“I order you to return immediately! Otherwise I will report to the police! I will sue you for destroying corporate property!”

“Come back now!” The entire production line has been paralyzed! Did you hear that?!”

The screams were out of control, filled with anger and helplessness. As soon as the voice ended, the room was silent for two seconds. Then... my friends all burst out laughing at the same time, the laughter seemed to explode. Some people even wiped tears from laughing so hard. As for me, amidst that loud laughter, my face remained calm. It's not because I'm arrogant. It's just that a feeling of... pity suddenly arose in my heart. This is the project director of a company in the top 500 in the world? A grown man who, when an incident occurs, only knows how to scream, blame, and then threaten his subordinates? A "director" who lives like a child and refuses to grow up? I picked up my phone and slowly typed a line. Thinking about it a bit, I also added a smiley face icon. Then press send.

“Sir Pierre, if there's anything please email me.

My time, well worth it.” In Pierre's office, the air was so thick it was suffocating. He stared at the short text message appearing on the phone screen, as if he had been slapped in the face.

“My time, it's worth it.”

Accompanied by a smiley face — for Pierre, it was like a scornful laugh that stripped him of his face. Anger rushed straight to his head, his whole body trembled. Pierre roared, swung his hand and threw the expensive phone straight into the opposite wall. The machine broke into pieces, components scattered everywhere floor.

“AAARRRGHH—!!!”