A Gen Z employee named Sylvie Mercer has reported me to the Department of Labor by claiming that I've forced all employees to work on the year-end holidays.

But the truth is, I've given the entire company a nine-day vacation just to celebrate the year-end holidays. Those who are willing to work overtime shifts will be paid three times their usual salaries and given an additional five-thousand-dollar bonus.

Sylvie keeps crying on the internet about how all the employees, including her, are forced to trade their lives for money.

Thanks to her, the entire Internet keeps bashing me. So, I decide to follow the public opinion by releasing an announcement.

"In order to ensure all employees' health, the company's doors shall be locked during the year-end holidays. Do note that the electric supply will be cut off as well. No one is permitted entry into the company."

As soon as the announcement is released, the employees who plan on earning extra money in order to pay off their mortgages all rush toward my office in alarm.

Before the Christmas and New Year holidays, I called all the department heads into the conference room and announced the company's holiday schedule.

"This year, the company is giving nine days off for the year-end holidays."

The words had barely left my mouth when the room broke into polite applause.

I paused for a moment, then continued, "During the holidays, the office will remain fully operational; water, electricity, and heat included. Anyone who wants to work overtime can sign up voluntarily based on their own personal circumstances.

"Overtime pay will be triple the normal rate. And if you accumulate three days of overtime in total, in addition to the triple pay, the company will also give you an extra 500 dollars as a 'grind bonus.'"

The conference room instantly exploded. A few older employees, weighed down by mortgages and car loans, practically had sparkles in their eyes.

"You're the best, Lyra!"

"Thank you, Ms. Pierce! I was just stressing about next month's mortgage!"

"Sign me up! My kid's tuition for next semester is riding on this!"

Seeing their genuine happiness, I felt pretty satisfied too.

My philosophy for running a company had always been simple—pay generously and respect individual choice.

If someone wanted to hustle, I'd give them the platform and the rewards. For those who wanted to rest, I'd give them a holiday break far exceeding the legal requirement.

Everyone got what they needed. That was what a healthy company looked like.

But amid the cheers, a discordant voice suddenly cut through.

"Ms. Pierce, I object."

The speaker was the new Gen Z intern, Sylvie Mercer. She stood up, her face full of righteous indignation.

"What you're doing is basically encouraging toxic competition and creating holiday anxiety! Everyone may say they're choosing freely, but when they see others working overtime and making money, can they really relax? Isn't this just forcing us to trade our lives for money?

The room fell completely silent.

"Sylvie, the company respects everyone's choices," I explained patiently, looking at her. "Whether you work overtime or not is entirely up to you. No one is forcing you.

"This policy exists to give employees with real financial burdens and who really need the money a legal, compliant way to earn extra income.

"If you want to rest, then enjoy your nine-day holiday. No one will criticize you for it."

But Sylvie clearly wasn't open to my explanation. Her face flushed red as she argued, "But the signal you're sending is wrong! As the boss, you should be guiding everyone to focus on their physical and mental health, not tempting us with money!"

I couldn't be bothered to argue with her anymore. "This is the company's final decision. If there are no other questions, the meeting is adjourned."

After the meeting ended, several longtime employees eagerly went to my assistant, Bree Thatcher, to sign up for overtime. Their smiles were the best validation I could ask for.

But not long after, there was a knock on my office door.

It was Sylvie. She walked in, looking very serious, and closed the door behind her.

"Ms. Pierce, I hope you'll revoke that overtime policy."

I almost laughed. "And why would I listen to you?"

"For everyone's physical and mental well-being!" she insisted firmly. "You can't deprive us of our right to enjoy our holidays in peace!"

My expression cooled.

"And I also don't have the right to deprive others of their right to work hard and earn money. You're free to choose comfort, but you don't get to stop others from choosing to hustle. Now leave."

Sylvie clearly hadn't expected me to be so blunt. After a stunned pause, she slunk out in defeat.

I got up to grab some water from the break room. Just as I reached the door, I heard Sylvie's voice coming from inside.

"Ryan, do you agree with what I did? She only cares about money. She doesn't care about whether we employees live or die at all!"

Another voice jumped in immediately. It was Ryan Voss, one of the company's longtime employees.

"You absolutely did the right thing, Sylvie. We need young people like you who dare to stand up and fight this kind of exploitative culture!

"Don't worry, I've got your back. With the internet so powerful nowadays, we should let the public weigh in!"

Holding my mug, I silently walked back to my office.

Ryan was an old fox. His performance had been declining year after year, but when it came to stirring up trouble, he was an expert.

Just before getting out of work, I unwittingly glanced over at Sylvie's desk. She had propped her phone up on a stand, angled perfectly.

Then she slightly lowered her head and discreetly squeezed two drops of eye drops into her eyes. When she looked up again, she looked exhausted and full of grievance.

She faced the camera, adopted a choked, wounded tone—as if she'd suffered the greatest injustice—and started recording.

That night, a video shot straight to the top of the trending list.

The title read, "Forced Into 'Voluntary' Overtime Over the Holidays—How Am I Supposed to Love My Company?"

The star of the video was none other than Sylvie.

She maliciously edited my explanation from the afternoon meeting into cold, heartless soundbites, like "If you don't work overtime, it means you're not working hard enough," and "If you're poor, that's on you."

Then she paired it with her own masterful performance of being "utterly exhausted after having worked overtime continuously for an entire month".

On camera, her eyes were red-rimmed, and her voice was hoarse.

"I'm just a fresh graduate. I just want to take a proper holiday. Why is that so hard?

"Triple pay and a 500-dollar cash bonus—sounds tempting, right? But we're basically trading it for our lives! I don't even know how I'm supposed to love a company that traps employees with money like this!"

The video's damage was immense. Instantly, the comment section was flooded with furious commenters.

"Damn, what kind of evil boss is this? It's 2025! How is stuff like this still happening?

"Girl, run! The company isn't worth it!"

"Boycott! The company must be boycotted! Dox her! Expose this sweatshop!"

"I shared your video! More people should see how ugly and twisted capitalists are!"

My phone rang nonstop, and the company website crashed from the overwhelming traffic.

…

The next morning, I arrived at the office building with two huge dark circles under my eyes, only to find more than a dozen independent reporters blocking the entrance.

The moment I walked into the office, Sylvie strutted right in behind me, with Ryan in tow.

Ryan put on a fake look of concern. "Goodness, Ms. Pierce, this has really gotten out of hand. I've already tried talking some sense into Sylvie, but you know how impulsive young people can be.

"But then again, with public opinion being like this right now, maybe you should just go with the flow. Show some empathy for the youngsters and cancel the overtime."

Sylvie smugly waved her phone, the screen showing that her video's view count was already in the tens of millions.

"Ms. Pierce, the whole internet is on my side," she said. "I suggest you cancel the overtime immediately and issue a public apology to all employees."

She leaned in closer, lowered her voice, and added, "Otherwise, you might be getting a call from the Department of Labor."

The words had just left her lips when Bree burst in, panic-stricken.

"Ms. Pierce! It's bad! The Department of Labor just called. They received an anonymous complaint and are sending people to investigate the company this afternoon!"

Sylvie's smile became even more brazen. "Hear that, Ms. Pierce? I'm just carrying out justice on behalf of the people."

I ignored her and stared fixedly at the phone Bree handed me. On the screen was the repost list for the video, and one familiar username jumped out at me.

Elara Radcliffe. I had mentored her personally.

Just last year, she'd gotten addicted to online shopping and throwing gifts at livestreamers. As a result, she racked up 20 thousand dollars in high-interest debt. The debt collectors had even shown up at the company entrance to look for her.

Without a second thought, I had paid off the 20 thousand dollars out of my own pocket.

Back then, all I had said to her was, "All young people make mistakes. Just work hard from here on out."

Yet now, she had quietly reposted Sylvie's video and written the most soul-crushing words.

"No choice at all."

Those four words hurt me more than any cruelest curse ever could.

Sylvie noticed the sudden change in my expression and assumed I was scared. She grinned even wider, saying, "So, Ms. Pierce, have you made your decision?"

Just then, my phone started vibrating like crazy. Calls from partners and suppliers came one after another.

"Ms. Pierce, are those things online true? If your company's labor situation is unstable, we'll have to reevaluate our future partnership."

"Ms. Pierce, I'm afraid we'll have to put your payments on hold until this matter is resolved."

Overnight, my company became synonymous with "employee exploitation". My personal information, including my home address and phone number, was all dug up. Hundreds upon thousands of angry and threatening text messages flooded my phone.

Downstairs, more and more reporters and influencers gathered, holding up signs and chanting, "Boycott the evil boss! Give people back their holiday!"

Steven Tipkin, the HR director, rushed to my office in a complete panic.

"Ms. Pierce, we have to do damage control immediately! We can release the full benefits policy and all the signed voluntary overtime forms! Let the facts speak for themselves, and the rumors will collapse on their own!"

I was about to agree, but just as I started to nod, Bree handed me her phone.

"Ms. Pierce, take a look at this!"

Under Sylvie's viral video was a top comment that had already racked up tens of thousands of likes.

An anonymous account labeled "internal employee" posted the following comment in an unequivocally assertive tone.

"Don't try to whitewash this. I work at this company. That 'voluntary' overtime form? HR used our performance reviews as leverage and forced us to sign them one by one. Who'd dare refuse? If you didn't sign, you were just waiting to be 'optimized' right out of the company."

Under this blatant lie were countless echoes.

"I knew it! As if there are actually that many people who would voluntarily work their asses off—it's all forced!"

"Stay safe, OP. Watch out for retaliation from the capitalist!"

"I support OP for speaking out! We need more brave people like you!"

Instantly, I felt every drop of blood in my body turn ice-cold. I waved my hand and called off the entire PR clarification plan.

"No explanations," I said.

Steven froze. "What? Why? If we don't clarify now, Ms. Pierce, we'll…"

I looked out the window at those excited-looking faces, and the last trace of warmth vanished from my eyes.

"They don't want the truth. They just want the truth that they've already decided on. So, they want a break, huh?" I said, turning to Bree. "Then I'll give them one."

Bree looked at me hesitantly, seemingly not understanding what I meant.

I placed a call to the administrative department via the internal line.

"Notify all employees that there'll be a company-wide meeting tomorrow at 9:00 am. I'll announce the final arrangements regarding the year-end holidays."

…

The next day, the company's largest conference hall was packed to capacity.

Almost every employee's face glowed with the joy of victory. They clustered together in small groups, whispering excitedly. The atmosphere was so relaxed that it felt more like a celebratory party.

Sylvie was the undisputed center of attention. She even shamelessly started a livestream right there in the hall.

The title for the stream was particularly glaring. "Justice Prevails! Gen Z Woman Leads Company Away from Corporate Grind!"

She stood in the middle of a crowd, passionately proclaiming how she'd "single-handedly taken on the entire capitalist system". Ryan hovered around her like an assistant, handing her water one second and adjusting the phone angle for her the next.

When I walked into the hall, it went quiet for a brief moment. Then, almost instantly, every pair of eyes turned toward me, brimming with barely contained glee and a hunger for drama.

I walked onto the stage and adjusted the microphone.

"Good morning, everyone," I said, my voice ringing clearly through the speakers across the entire hall.

"Regarding the recent online controversy and everyone's concerns about the year-end holiday arrangements, on behalf of the company, I'd like to offer my sincere apologies."

Thunderous applause erupted instantly, and Sylvie's live chat exploded.

"Goodness gracious! The capitalist actually caved!"

"Amazing! Gen Z successfully fixed the workplace!"

"You did it, queen! You won!"

Ryan led the applause below, grinning ear to ear. He nodded to me as he clapped, as if saying, "See? You should've just done this right from the start".

I straightened up and continued, "After serious reflection, we recognize that the previous overtime policy indeed failed to fully consider everyone's pursuit of physical and mental well-being. This has gone against our company's people-first values.

"Therefore, to protect the physical and mental health of all our employees and actively respond to public opinion, the company has decided…"

I took a deliberate pause. Everyone held their breaths, necks craned to get a better look at me. Sylvie even pointed her phone camera straight at me, ready to capture this "historic moment".

"All voluntary overtime arrangements during the year-end holidays are officially cancelled."

Loud cheers exploded across the hall, nearly tearing off the roof.

"And, to ensure that everyone can enjoy a truly uninterrupted, perfect holiday… From 6:00 pm on December 24 to 9:00 am on January 2 of the new year, the company will undergo a security system upgrade.

"During that time, all office areas will be fully powered down, and all access controls will be suspended. Except for security personnel, no one is allowed on the premises for any reason."