The moment I walked in, the noisy office suddenly fell silent.

One glared at me like needles stabbing, filled with undisguised ridicule, curiosity, and gloating.

“Well, look who still has the nerve to show up.”

The one speaking was the boss’ niece, the same Veronica who had been the first to show off her fifty-thousand-dollar bonus.

She deliberately carried a cup of coffee as she walked past me, her voice just loud enough for everyone nearby to hear.

“I thought after taking those hits yesterday, you’d be lying at home for a few days.”

I didn’t look at her and walked straight to my desk.

I turned on my computer. My inbox was already filled with unread emails.

The company group chat was still being flooded with photos from last night’s gala and records of the bonus payouts.

I closed it immediately and opened a new document titled “Resignation Letter”.

The content was brief and cold.

There were no words of gratitude, no reflection on the past.

Just one sentence: [Due to personal reasons, I hereby request to resign effective immediately.]

Then I opened an encrypted folder on my computer.

After entering the password, an eighty-page document unfolded on the screen.

[Core Client Relationship Maintenance Manual.]

Every single word in it had been earned over the past eight years through countless sleepless nights, endless travel, and drinking sessions that had nearly ruined my stomach.

It wasn’t just simple contact numbers or contracts.

It recorded things like which executives disliked each other, whose son wanted to get into which elementary school, and what specific detail would make someone finally give in at the last moment of a negotiation.

These were the details that actually made deals happen, and partnerships continue.

It wasn’t company secrets, but the result of eight years of my effort.

Calmly, I exported the file, encrypted it, and uploaded it to my private cloud storage.

Everything left on the computer was irrelevant.

After finishing all of that, I finally stood up.

I printed the resignation letter, signed my name, and then walked toward Daniel’s office.

I knocked and went in.

Daniel was leaning back in his chair with his legs crossed while talking on the phone.

When he saw me, he didn’t hide the disgust in his eyes.

He said a few perfunctory words into the phone and hung up before leaning back in the large leather chair and looking me up and down.

“So, you figured it out? Came to apologize?”

He let out a mocking laugh.

“Yesterday you were still thinking about calling the police to arrest—”

Before he could finish, I placed the resignation letter on his desk.

He glanced at it, and the smile on his face froze.

He didn’t pick it up.

Instead, he slowly lit a cigarette.

“Lily, what I said yesterday might’ve been a little harsh, but that was for your own good. Sometimes you need a wake-up call so you can understand your place.

“Go ask around outside. What company would hire someone from a second-tier college like you? And still pay you six thousand a month? Keep dreaming!”

“I’m not here to argue about that,” I said calmly. “Please approve my resignation.”

“Approve it?”

He exhaled a ring of smoke and flicked the ash.

“According to the contract, you need to submit a written request thirty days in advance. During those thirty days, every bit of work you’re responsible for stays the same. You think you can just walk away? It’s not that easy!”

I understood what he meant.

He wanted to make things difficult for me during those thirty days.

Just then, the phone on his desk rang sharply.

Daniel picked it up impatiently.

“Hello? …What? The system crashed? Data loss?”

His expression changed instantly, and his voice rose.

“Their boss specifically asked for Lily to handle it? Useless! A bunch of useless idiots!”

He slammed the phone down hard. His chest rose and fell as he glared at me, his expression complicated.

There was anger, reluctance, and a trace of embarrassment he couldn’t quite hide.

…

“Apex Technology’s system ran into trouble. Mr. Johnson spoke up personally and asked for you by name to handle it.”

He gritted his teeth, every word squeezed out between them.

“As you’re still an employee of this company, you have to fix this problem for me.

“If you mess it up and cause losses, you’ll take full responsibility.”

I looked at his furious face and suddenly found it a little ridiculous.

When they needed someone to put out fires, I was the firefighter. However, when it came time to share the rewards, I was the disposable extra.

“Sure. But this will be the last thing I handle within my responsibilities.”

He knew exactly what I meant.

Approve my resignation, and I’d solve the problem.

Refuse, and there was nothing to discuss.

“Fine. Lily, you’re really something.”

He agreed through gritted teeth.

Once I got his answer, I turned and walked toward the tech department.

The issue at Apex Technology was complicated. A mistake in the underlying code had triggered a crash in the chain system.

The engineers were already overwhelmed. When they saw me walk in, their eyes held a mix of expectation and embarrassment.

I didn’t respond to any of it.

I sat down and connected to the system.

Memories of every system upgrade and custom request Apex had gone through, buried deep in my mind, surged forward instantly.

An hour later, the alarms stopped, and the data was restored.

Mr. Johnson’s call came directly to my phone.

“Lily, thank you! I knew you’d handle it!”

His tone sounded relieved, then he lowered his voice.

“I heard about what happened yesterday. I can’t believe Daniel actually hit you. That guy’s unbelievable.

“By the way, my orders here and a few contracts from friends of mine are tied to you. Wherever you are, that’s where the orders go.

“If you ever need it, there will always be a place for you here.”

“Thank you, Mr. Johnson,” I said sincerely.

All the effort from these years had brought more than scars. However, it had also earned the recognition of people who truly understood value.

When I returned to Daniel’s office, he was listening to the tech department’s report with a dark expression.

The problem was solved, yet he looked anything but relieved.

I placed the resignation letter on his desk again.

“Mr. Aster, please sign it.”

Daniel looked at the resignation letter, then at me.

“Lily, you should understand something. The only reason you were able to secure those contracts is because of the company’s platform. Once you leave, your future prospects will be pretty bleak.”

“What are you trying to say?” I asked directly.

Perhaps my handling of the issue just now had reminded him that I was still useful.

He studied my expression and said, “Don’t you just want a raise?

“That can be arranged. Stay with the company, and I’ll increase your salary by… five hundred.”

He held up five fingers as if he were making a huge concession.

Five hundred…

I let out a cold laugh.

“Just sign it. Don’t waste my time.”

“You—”

His face turned red with anger. No one in the company had ever challenged him like that before.

In the end, he grabbed a pen, signed his name on the resignation letter with force, and almost slammed it back at me.

“Get out!”

He forced the word out between his teeth.

“Lily, remember this. Once you leave this company, you’re nothing!

“And when you want to come back, you’ll have to kneel and beg me!”

I ignored him and carefully put away the signed resignation letter.

That very afternoon, I went to my new company to complete my onboarding.

My monthly salary was sixty thousand as project director.

Outside my office window stretched a wide river view.

I took a photo of my new ID badge and the view outside the window, then posted it to my social media with just four words.

[New job. New beginning.]

Within minutes, likes and comments poured in.

Along with welcomes from new colleagues, there were many familiar client profile pictures.

Apex’s Mr. Johnson commented: [Congratulations, Director Frasier! A new beginning and even greater success ahead! Looking forward to continuing our partnership!]

Ms. Moore from Orca said, [Lily, you’re amazing! We’re waiting for your side to finalize the new contract!]

Mr. Taylor at Witop wrote, [Director Frasier, are you available tomorrow to discuss next year’s strategic partnership?]

One comment after another appeared, like silent announcements.

I was about to put my phone down when a number suddenly flashed across the screen and began vibrating wildly.

It was a number I hadn’t saved, yet knew by heart—Daniel.

“Lily, what did you do?

“Why?! Why have they all pulled out?!”