"I've already gotten what I want," replied Michael.

As it turned out, Michael wanted me gone so he could get a promotion and take my place.

When he saw me entering the room, he raised his voice and continued, "Working for this wretched company is so exhausting. I'm so jealous of the people who get to leave this nasty job."

When the rest of the group caught sight of me, they instantly realized what Michael was trying to do.

"Maybe you should make an instruction manual for the rest of us, Zane. How does one get themselves laid off? It sounds like such a difficult feat…" someone else mocked.

Subsequently, they all began to laugh even louder.

I sighed inwardly and gently shook my head. Initially, I'd wanted to head over and give them a casual reminder. However, judging by how things were at the moment, I didn't think I needed to do so anymore.

Just as I was about to walk away, someone started yelling after me.

"Hey! Hey—you! I'm talking to you here. Are you deaf?"

I turned around and saw Veronica Goldberg.

Veronica, who was relatively close to Michael, walked toward me with a frown. Then, she impatiently flung a piece of paper at me and spat, "Here's the bill from last night. Do remember to pay your share. Your total is three thousand dollars."

Three thousand dollars?

I scanned the receipt and frowned. "From what I remember, the total cost of drinks, dinner, and the venue rental last night couldn't have been more than nine thousand dollars.

"Our department consists of twelve people, including me, so the bill should've been about seven hundred and fifty dollars per person. Why am I suddenly being asked to pay three thousand dollars then?"

Was the receipt even legitimate?

Upon hearing my comments, she rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. With an arrogant expression, she retorted, "The bill has always been split this way. Your pay is a lot higher than ours. So, doesn't it make sense for you to pay a bigger share?"

What?

This was the first time I'd ever heard of team-building costs being split according to each employee's salary. On top of that, Veronica looked so entitled that I almost thought that I was being unreasonable.

Had I been paying a bigger share of our team-building expenses this entire time?

"You're not arguing with me over such a small amount of money, are you?" she asked with a look of disdain.

Of course I was. Did I look like a fool to her?

After eyeing me up and down, she suddenly pretended to look shocked. She dramatically put a hand over her mouth and said, "I'm so sorry! I forgot that you're out of a job. I suppose three thousand dollars is a hefty sum for someone who is unemployed…"

She intentionally dragged out her words in order to mock me.

Everyone in the office burst into laughter.

Michael, who'd been watching everything unfold from the sidelines, finally stepped forward. Pretending to be considerate, he waved Veronica off and said, "That's enough. Stop making things difficult for him."

Once he made his way toward me, he put on the same condescending expression and proceeded to stare at me with a mocking gaze.

"For old times' sake, I'll look past what happened yesterday. If you get on your knees and bark like a dog right now, I'll help you pay your share of the bill immediately. What do you say?"

Everyone in the office was staring at me. They were all waiting for me to humiliate myself.

Unfortunately for my colleagues, things didn't go the way they'd wanted it to.

All of a sudden, our supervisor, Charlie Truman, entered the room.

"Come with me, Zane," he said solemnly.

I nodded in response. Behind me, Michael and the rest instantly burst into laughter.

"I was wondering why he was still lingering around the office. I didn't know he was waiting for Mr. Truman to usher him out of the building."

"I would just get out of here if I were him. Being told to leave is so embarrassing…"

Little did they know, Charlie was anxiously waiting in his office while they made fun of me outside.

The minute I entered his office, he walked up to me in an appeasing manner and said, "Here—please take a seat, Zane."

Charlie had never been this polite and respectful toward me before. After he invited me to take a seat, he even took it upon himself to pour me a glass of water.

"Mr. Smith told me everything, Zane. Surprisingly, a few of our newer clients immediately stopped contacting us the second they heard about your resignation. More importantly, our current project is desperately in need of upgrades and improvements.

"We scoured the entire industry, but we could barely find someone suitable to replace you. Mr. Smith told me he'd fire me if I can't convince you to stay."

The Project Department's performance had been falling short for the past two years. As a result, our company's headquarters had been considering layoffs for some time now.

Thanks to my hard work, the department managed to get back on its feet. On top of that, it was even showing promising growth. If I were to resign, the entire Project Department would probably fall apart.

While nervously rubbing his hands together, Charlie said repeatedly, "The voting was the company's idea, but I never thought the team would unanimously vote against you. What a bunch of cold-blooded scoundrels!"

He furiously berated my colleagues to prevent me from pinning the blame on him, but he wasn't able to delude me. The rest of the department might've cast the votes, but he was the one who had approved the layoff decision afterward.

Charlie saw potential in our current project. So, he was trying to have me removed in order to replace me with his trusted subordinate, Michael.

To his dismay, his plans took a turn for the worse, and now the entire department was about to be laid off. On top of that, he was about to lose his job as well.

He was only trying to convince me to stay so he could keep his job. Unfortunately for him, it was too late.

"I've already finalized all the paperwork pertaining to my resignation," I declared as I handed him my separation letter.

"What? Y-You… H-How did you get everything processed so quickly?" he stammered as he repeatedly flipped through the papers.

Subsequently, he even rubbed the official company stamp with his fingers to check if it was fabricated. By the time he looked up at me again, he looked absolutely desolate.

To save his career, he flashed me a bitter expression and begged, "Zane—Mr. Carter—please. I'm begging you to reconsider this.

"If you really don't feel like staying, I could even double your salary!" he added as he hastily lifted two of his fingers.

Unfazed by his offer, I turned to leave.

Before I could walk away, Charlie hastily blocked my way before raising yet another finger.

"Triple! I'll triple your salary!" he yelled.

"That won't be necessary," I replied firmly.

Charlie was determined to change my mind. Upon seeing how adamant I was, he switched up his approach and tried to guilt-trip me into staying instead.

"You shouldn't behave in such a reckless manner. Even if you don't care about me, you should at least think about the rest of your colleagues. They might've wronged you, but it was nothing personal. They were just trying to protect their livelihoods.

"It's incredibly difficult to find a suitable job in times like these. Some of your older colleagues are already in their 50s. What do you expect them to do if they get laid off at such an old age?" he asked.

I scoffed inwardly. None of them seemed concerned about my future when they voted to have me laid off. What if I had a family to support as well? Since that was the case, I had no obligation to care about their well-being either.

I looked down and scoffed coldly. Then, I replied without an ounce of hesitation, "I've already made my decision, and I won't be changing my mind!"

I'd already done more than enough for the department throughout my time in the office. Ignoring Charlie's pleas, I turned away from him and marched out of his office.

I heard a commotion as soon as I exited Charlie's office. When I turned around, I immediately spotted my favorite car ornament in the trash. I lowered my head to check again. Just as I'd expected, all of my belongings had been tossed into the garbage can.

I looked up and saw Michael and a group of our colleagues staring at me with disdain.

"According to rule number 28 in the company's employee handbook, dogs and unauthorized individuals are not allowed into the premises during working hours," Michael declared.

He even pointed at me when he mentioned the word "dog".

He added, "Please leave immediately, or I'll have to call security."

I stared at my colleagues' wretched faces and felt relieved that I'd resigned from this job. Nothing good would possibly come out of remaining in the same office as these monsters.

When I stayed rooted in place, Michael grew impatient. He kicked the trash can in front of him and caused its s to spill all over the floor.

"What are you still doing here? Do you understand what I'm saying? I've made myself incredibly clear, haven't I? Get the hell out of here now!" he barked.

I didn't reply.

Then, all of a sudden, someone yelled, "Enough!"

As it turned out, Charlie had run after me without me knowing, and he had ended up witnessing everything that just happened.

Everyone fell silent the minute he stepped in.

Michael, who was the most arrogant one out of the group, hastily flashed Charlie a sheepish smile and said, "Please calm down, Mr. Truman… There's no need to get all worked up…"

I had to give it to him. Michael was a brilliant actor.

Charlie marched toward Michael with a cold expression and asked, "Do you spend your free time bullying your colleagues like this?"

Michael put on an innocent expression and explained, "I'm not bullying him, Mr. Truman. I'm simply acting in accordance with the employee handbook and maintaining order within the office."

Charlie, who'd been working in this industry for more than 20 years, was fully capable of seeing through Michael's antics.

Charlie stared at him coolly before turning to look at me again. He'd finally figured out why I was so adamant about quitting my job.

"You're going to be the cause of my downfall," he spat as he furiously jabbed a finger at Michael's face.

Subsequently, he turned toward me in an appeasing manner and continued, "I'll let you deal with Michael as you see fit. Feel free to do whatever you deem necessary to quell your anger."

Michael's expression immediately shifted.

He stared at Charlie quizzically and asked, "What are you talking about, Mr. Truman? I'm confused."

Charlie ignored Michael's silent plea for help and left him to fend for himself. Rather than punishing Michael outright, I'd much rather watch him and Charlie tear each other apart.

When I continued to stay still, Charlie glanced at my expression and immediately figured out what he needed to do.

Taking matters into his own hands, he turned toward Michael and declared, "You're fired, Michael."