"But the company isn't a charity. We follow the rules here. We can't just hand out extra bonuses because employees are having a hard time."

He brushed it off like it was nothing.

"Fine. Then let's not talk about hardship."

I pulled out a chair and sat down, my expression dead serious.

"Let's talk about contributions."

"Bonuses are supposed to be based on contributions. And according to the results, the Tech Department contributed nothing to this company this year."

I opened my email and pulled up every single request form from the Sales Department.

"This year, Sales brought in twenty new clients. That means twenty new software systems to support those accounts."

"If we'd outsourced that development, each system would've cost at least five hundred thousand dollars. That's ten million total—not counting ongoing maintenance."

"The Tech Department has fifteen people. Average monthly salary: six thousand. Total payroll for the year: one point zero eight million."

"On development alone, we saved the company at least eight point nine two million dollars. And that's not even counting the long-term value those systems generate." I stared him down. "You call that no contribution?"

VP Sawyer went quiet. After a long pause, he found another angle.

"No one said you didn't contribute. But your department's salaries are higher than other departments."

I let out a cold laugh.

"AI is the hottest field in tech right now. Other companies are offering fresh graduates four hundred thousand a year just to walk in the door."

"My team? Every one of them has solid credentials and real experience. And their annual salary is less than a fifth of what a new grad makes elsewhere." I leaned forward. "You call that high wages?"

I pulled up the attendance records.

"Fine. You're worried about internal harmony? Let's look at hourly rates."

"There were two hundred forty-eight official workdays in 2025. Our department averaged three hundred fifty days on-site. During the Mid-Autumn Festival, while everyone else was home with their families, we were rolling out a new system. We slept in the office."

"Out of those three hundred fifty days, the earliest anyone clocked out was eight p.m. The latest?" I paused. "There was no latest. We pulled all-nighters for a hundred of those days. Our actual logged hours hit five thousand nine hundred."

"At seventy-two thousand a year, that's twelve dollars an hour."

I let that sit for a moment, then spoke slowly, each word deliberate.

"Twelve dollars. In this city, bubble tea shops pay twenty-two."

"The company provides dinner and late-night meals when you work overtime. No one's mistreating you—"

"Dinner and a midnight snack. Less than ten bucks a person. Every single time, we had to dig into our own pockets just to not go hungry."

By then, I was barely holding it together.

Ronnie's expression turned cold.

"Claude, you can't just focus on your own contributions. You have to compare horizontally. Finance and Strategy contribute far more than your department."

I stood up and rolled my eyes so hard it hurt.

"What contributions? Blocking reimbursements?"

"Oh right—this year, our department submitted legitimate expense reports. Fifty thousand dollars' worth. The boss's niece, Vanessa Blake, the head of Finance, refused to approve a single one. No explanation. I guess that does save the company money."

"And Strategy?" I kept going. "The boss's distant relative who couldn't pass the college entrance exam, so he got shipped overseas for some worthless master's degree. Came back and landed the director title."

"Dylan Mercer. All year, his team's been busy filming vlogs and making us build mini-apps for their projects. Last month, they uploaded the wrong photo and cost us a major deal."

"That's contribution?"

The more I spoke, the angrier I got.

"And then there's your department. All you do is make PowerPoints and hand out fines. Missed a clock-in? Two hundred dollars. Messy desk? Two hundred. Didn't say hi to the boss? Three hundred."

I laughed—bitter and sharp.

"What heroes you all are! Such generous contributors!"

"If this company won't give us the bonuses we earned, then don't expect us to put in unpaid overtime ever again!"

"We may be the nice guys, but we're not stupid! Feed us enough empty promises and even an idiot figures out they're fake!"

I turned and walked out, ignoring the VP's darkening expression.

Behind me came the crash of chairs hitting the floor.

So much for his mild-mannered act—that only lasted until someone touched his money.

When it came down to it, there was no way this bonus fiasco happened without VP Sawyer's fingerprints all over it. I'd stake my life on it.

Back at the department, fourteen pairs of hopeful eyes turned toward me.

My nose stung. I opened my mouth, but the words wouldn't come.

Milton managed a smile, though it couldn't hide the bitterness underneath.

"My mom's legs aren't doing so well. We'll skip Capital City this year. The bonus... forget it."

One of the younger women wiped her tears.

"Everyone just pooled some money for me. It's enough for my mom's first surgery."

They swallowed their grievances whole, washing them down with tears.

My fists clenched tighter and tighter as the conversation between the boss and VP Sawyer replayed in my head.

"My wife's cousin's kid just got back from overseas with his master's degree—and he brought a whole team with him. Get rid of Tech and make room for them!"

"Soon enough. Push them hard enough and they'll quit on their own. Saves us the severance pay."

"Besides, I've got one more trick up my sleeve. They won't last long after that..."

They'd assumed I was long gone. But I'd left my glasses behind and doubled back.

I heard every word of their scheme.

"This time, we're not letting it slide!"

My voice came out rough. In my eyes burned the determination of a pushover backed into a corner.

Why should the nice guys always get trampled?

Why should we pour everything we have into this job, only for greedy executives to invent excuses to bleed us dry?

Caspar's eyes lit up. "Boss, the competitor next door is offering five times our salary to poach our entire team."

In the AI industry, technical talent is the ultimate competitive edge.

A team that works together seamlessly? Even more valuable.

Starting six months ago, the rival company's HR director and CEO had been approaching me privately.

Their offer climbed from double to the current five times my salary.

Out of loyalty to the company, I'd kept turning them down.

But now...

I was quiet for a moment, then nodded. "Reach out to them. But keep this under wraps."

The job switch proceeded smoothly and quietly. To make sure nothing leaked, I personally gave the other company's CEO a heads-up.

He swore up and down that not a word would get out. As for start dates, they'd work around our resignation timeline.

A week later, the company welcomed a new face.

Some distant relative of the boss.

The boss personally escorted him to the Tech department.

"Hello, everyone. I just got back from abroad. I have experience at three major international firms. You can call me Henry Caldwell."

The young hotshot looked around with obvious disdain.

"Fifteen people, and you only developed twenty systems in a whole year? At my old company, you'd have been fired a hundred times over!"

"But don't worry. Now that I'm here, as long as you're not completely useless, this company will be Fortune 500 in no time!"

Dead silence. Henry's expression turned awkward.

The boss started clapping. "Let's welcome our brilliant returnee!"

"From now on, he's your new Tech Director. Claude, you're demoted to Technical Lead with a pay cut to match. Everyone else—fifty percent salary reduction across the board!"

Caspar slammed his palm on the desk. "On what grounds?! This guy's a third-rate overseas graduate who couldn't even land an internship through normal channels. How does he waltz in and become Technical Director?"

The rest of the team looked equally outraged.

Henry's face darkened, but the boss remained perfectly calm.

"On what grounds? You all tried to jump ship to a competitor, violating your non-compete agreements. I could've had you thrown in jail, but I showed mercy. And you're standing here asking me 'on what grounds'?"

He produced his evidence—chat logs showing the competitor offering us five times our salary to defect, plus photos of us meeting with their CEO.

"So here are your options: accept a fifty percent pay cut, or get ready to cough up damages. Or enjoy prison food."

Executive VP Sawyer appeared, holding the non-compete agreements we'd signed when we were hired.

"Breach of non-compete: one million dollars in penalties."

The color drained from my teammates' faces.

"A million dollars! I couldn't save that in ten years even if I didn't eat or drink!"

"What do we do? Is my life just... over?"

The boss raised an eyebrow, smug.

"A bunch of clowns who can't even see what they're worth. You really thought someone would pay five times market rate for you?"

He held up an acquisition agreement.

"That company next door? I bought it a year ago. You think your little schemes were fooling anyone?"