The Smiles That Cost

The first day of the "positive energy" assessment hung over the office like a storm.

The room was unnaturally quiet. Everyone wore stiff, forced smiles, like a row of puppets on strings.

I tried to lift the corners of my mouth, but it was impossible.

My mother's condition had worsened again. The doctors said she needed surgery immediately, and I was over a hundred thousand short.

Just thinking about it felt like a boulder pressing down on my chest. How could I possibly smile?

"Beep! Employee Claire Sullivan—smile curvature standard, expression sincere. Award: 10 positive energy points."

"Beep! Employee Jack Steele—continuous smile for over one hour. Award: 20 positive energy points."

The AI's chimes kept ringing, turning the whole office into some absurd, grotesque contest.

And above my head, there was silence.

…

In the afternoon, Lucas appeared again in front of the giant screen to launch his daily commentary.

"Look, everyone, most of you have adapted very well! Our office atmosphere is buzzing with enthusiasm!"

His gaze swept the room, sharp and calculating, before zeroing in on me.

"But," he sneered, "there's always one or two bad apples, radiating negative energy, dragging the whole team down!"

On the screen, a red X appeared over my avatar. The numbers beside it were brutal.

Smile duration: 0 minutes.

Negative expressions (frown, downturned mouth): 183 minutes total.

Overall evaluation: Severely lacking workplace enthusiasm. Flagged for behavior improvement.

Lucas' voice dripped with contempt. "Nathan, according to the new positive energy guidelines, you will be fined 500 today, to be deducted directly from your base salary."

Blood rushed to my head.

Deducted from my base salary? That was my mother's surgery money.

I shot to my feet. The chair scraped sharply against the floor. Every eye in the office snapped to me.

"Mr. Reed," I said, forcing my voice to stay steady, "this rule is unreasonable."

Lucas crossed his arms and let out a cold laugh. "Unreasonable? Since when do you get to decide what's reasonable in this company?"

"I have an emergency at home. I—"

He cut me off. "Who doesn't have emergencies? You're here to get work done. If you don't like it, you can quit."

His eyes scanned me with pure disdain. "Nathan, don't flatter yourself. Your numbers? The company will move on just fine without you."

After Lucas left, my phone rang. It was the hospital.

"Mr. Gray, your mother's condition is worsening. You should come in today. Also, you need to prepare the surgery fee," the nurse said urgently.

I hung up, feeling as if all the strength had been drained from my body.

Then, Victor Hayes—Lucas' lapdog and perennial bottom performer—sidled up to my desk. As a sycophantic smile plastered on his face, he made a heart with his hands for the AI camera.

"Beep! Employee Victor Hayes—expressed love for the company, full of positive energy. Award: 50 points."

The Fall of Favor

Victor shot me a triumphant glance, lowering his voice. "Nathan, the smart ones know when to play along. You go head-to-head with Mr. Reed, and what do you get? Me? I just talk a little, keep Mr. Reed and the AI happy, and my paycheck stays untouched. You? You work yourself to the bone, and for what—nothing to show for it?"

I stared at his smug face, my stomach twisting with rage.

So, this was Lucas' idea of efficient management. It rewarded the sly and punished the diligent.

At that moment, Lucas stepped out of his office, a file in hand.

He cleared his throat and delivered a decision that sent shockwaves through the office. "Attention, everyone. You all know the Silverbrook Bay project in Southgate, right?"

Every head went still. That project was the crown jewel of the industry—and nearly half a year of my blood, sweat, and tears.

"I've just reviewed the AI's employee potential assessment report. According to the data, Victor is currently the most enthusiastic and promising member of our entire sales department. The AI doesn't lie; it sees things the human eye can't."

He paused, then fixed his gaze on me.

"So, effective immediately, Victor will take full responsibility for the Silverbrook Bay project. Nathan, hand over all your files and materials to Victor before the end of today."

The office erupted in murmurs.

Everyone knew how difficult that client was. I was the only one who had managed to break through, and now the deal was at the final stage, just one step away from signing.

Handing the project to Victor, who was all talk and no substance, was like knocking over a chessboard when the win was already within reach.

Even Victor froze, then practically leapt for joy, bowing repeatedly to Lucas. "Thank you, Mr. Reed! Thank you for trusting me! I won't let you or the AI system down!"

"Beep! Employee Victor Hayes accepted a major challenge. Emotion high, motivation max. Reward: 100 positive energy points."

Lucas nodded, clearly pleased, then shot me a deliberately provocative look. "Nathan, this is natural selection in the AI era. Your time is over."

I looked at the familiar AI interface, drew a slow breath, and opened the company intranet, trying to access a few backend paths.

A warning suddenly filled my entire screen.

"Severe Warning! Employee Nathan Gray, ID 0371, attempting unauthorized system access!"

Before I could react, Lucas stormed over with two security guards in tow.

"Nathan! Trying to hack the company system now? You've got some nerve!"

He jabbed a finger at my nose, spittle flying.

"Slacking off at work, slumping in your duties, and now sabotage! People like you are the cancer of this company!"

He snatched my mouse and pulled up my surveillance feed on the big screen.

"Everyone, look at this! Our former sales champion—what is he doing now? Trying to attack company property!"

My colleagues hung their heads in silence.

Only Claire looked at me, worry and sympathy shining in her eyes.

Lucas soaked in the moment, relishing the display. "Nathan, I'm giving you one last chance. If your overall rating is still the lowest in the department this week, consider your time here over."

The Hunter Switches Places

A tight pressure closed around my chest. I clenched my fists so hard my nails dug into my palms.

Lucas had someone install a new surveillance plug-in on my computer. Every move I made was streamed to his phone in real time.

He wasn't just watching me. He was nailing me to a public pillory, determined to humiliate me beyond repair.

…

After work, I didn't go home. I went to the hospital alone.

Through the glass of the ICU, I saw my mother lying on the bed, tubes running in and out of her body, her breathing shallow and fragile.

More than half her hair had turned white, and she was so thin she barely looked like herself.

It felt as if an invisible hand had wrapped around my heart and squeezed until I could hardly breathe.

This was my fault. If I were more capable, if I could make more money, my mother wouldn't be suffering like this in a hospital bed.

My phone vibrated in my pocket. It was a group message from Lucas.

A massive bar chart filled the screen—the department's "overall efficiency score" rankings for the day.

My name sat alone at the very bottom. The red bar that represented my score was so short it was almost invisible.

Lucas tagged me in the group chat.

'Nathan, see this? This is your "contribution" today. Dead last in the entire company. I suggest you submit your resignation tomorrow. Don't make me fire you. That would be embarrassing for you.'

Victor followed up immediately, texting, 'Mr. Reed, brilliant call. Guys like this should've been cleared out a long time ago.'

A wave of people chimed in to agree.

I shut off my phone. I didn't want to see those disgusting faces anymore.

Just then, my phone rang again. It was my mother.

I hesitated, then answered, forcing my voice to sound steady. "Mom."

Her voice on the other end was faint and broken. "Nathan, are things not going well at work? Don't overwork yourself. I'm fine…"

Tears flooded my eyes.

I covered my mouth so I wouldn't cry out loud, but the tremor in my throat gave me away. "Mom, I'm fine. I'm doing well. Just focus on getting better. Don't worry about the money."

After I hung up, I leaned against the cold hospital wall and let the tears fall freely.

Why were they pushing me like this? Why were they cutting off my means to save my mother's life?

I wiped away my tears, and my gaze slowly hardened.

I went back to my workstation. The entire office building was empty.

Only the red indicator lights on the AI cameras blinked in the darkness, like watchful eyes spying on everything.

I sat quietly in my chair, staring at the computer that Lucas had placed under "special supervision."

Then, I looked up and met the lens of the nearest camera. Its eye rotated slowly, as if examining an unruly piece of prey.

I smiled at it slowly. 'You forced my hand.'

Tonight, it was time for the hunter and the prey to switch places. From this moment on, I would make the rules.