"Don’t you dare show your face back here without a signed contract, Doni! Do you hear me? I didn’t spend twenty years feeding you just so you could rot on my couch like a moldy potato!"Doni pulled the phone six inches away from his ear, wincing as his mother’s voice reached a pitch that could shatter industrial-grade glass. He leaned against the polished marble pillar of the Arasaka-esque lobby of Titan Global Tech, feeling every bit like a prisoner awaiting execution. His tie felt less like a professional accessory and more like a silk noose tightened by the cold, invisible hands of capitalism."I heard you the first six times, Mom. Loud and clear. Titan Global. High-tier entry. Six-figure salary. World domination. I got it," Doni sighed, his eyes tracing the frantic movement of employees scuttling across the lobby like ants on a disturbed mound. "But honestly? I think I’m more of a 'potatoes on the couch' kind of guy. It’s a very underrated lifestyle.""Don't you 'but' me! You have

"Look, I’m not saying the mammoths aren't cool, but could you please stop touching my sleeves? This is polyester, man. It’s highly flammable and emotionally fragile," Doni said, prying his arm away from a weeping paleontologist who looked like he wanted to propose to Doni’s sneakers."But the intuition, Mr. Kusuma! The raw, primal connection to the Earth's crust!" the scientist wailed, waving a muddy trowel dangerously close to Doni’s ear. "You’ve changed history!""Yeah, I do that. It’s a curse," Doni muttered, spinning on his heel to find a way out of the mud-slicked nightmare. His eyes immediately locked onto Dona, who was leaning against her sedan, looking like a judge from a high-society execution. "Hey! Sharp boots! Can I go home now? I think I have a scheduled breakdown at 6 PM.""Not even close, 'Bloodhound,'" Dona replied, her voice smooth but cutting like a serrated knife. she gestured to a silver envelope resting on her dashboard. "Neo-Couture is launching their 'Ethical El

"Does the helicopter have Wi-Fi? Because I still haven't checked my daily rewards in my gacha game," Doni muttered, staring through the sunroof at the black silhouette of a military-grade chopper hovering above their tail. It was framed by the neon glow of the city's skyscrapers, looking like a mechanized bird of prey with a very personal grudge."Doni, for the love of everything that is holy and productive, shut up!" Dona screamed, her knuckles white as she gripped the steering wheel. She jerked the car to the left, tires shrieking against the asphalt as a red laser dot danced across the dashboard. "We are literally seconds away from becoming a charred smudge on the highway, and you’re worried about virtual waifus?!""They're not just waifus, Dona. They’re a significant emotional investment. Plus, there’s a limited-time 'Beach Episode' event ending at midnight," Doni retorted, his voice surprisingly calm despite the fact that his seatbelt was the only thing keeping him from flying ou

"Whoa, hold up! Take a breath, Terminator! Who said anything about Saturday?" Doni scrambled backward, his chair wheels squeaking in a frantic protest against the linoleum floor. "I’ve got a very strict religious commitment to my bed on Saturdays. It's called Sleep-ianity. We don't do 'Audits.'"The man in the surgical mask didn't blink. He didn't even seem to breathe. His fingers danced over his laptop's glowing red keyboard with the mechanical precision of an industrial loom. "Host detected. Identifying as 'Doni Kusuma.' Status: Chaotic Parasite. Efficiency Rating: 0.003%. You are a leak in the data stream of humanity, Doni. I am here to patch you.""He’s with the Board, Doni," Dona whispered, her hand hovering near her waist, her eyes darting toward the office exit. "He’s an Optimizer. They’re basically high-level corporate cleaners with Systems specifically designed to erase 'irregularities.' You're the biggest irregularity in the hemisphere.""An Optimizer? That sounds like someo

"A pepperoni... for the King of Fools?" Doni’s voice was barely a tremor, a thin wire of sanity stretched across a canyon of pure, unadulterated absurdity. He stared up at the hovering truck, his eyes following the flickering neon lights that promised 'Hot Pies In Three Dimensions or Your Money Back.' "And it comes with a free bomb? Is this... is this how my life ends? Disintegrated by a Flying Hawaiian?""Deadass," the delivery guy yelled back from the hovering cab. He leaned out the window, adjusting a hat that had a spinning propeller on top. "Look, man, I just follow the GPS. The ticket said 'Doni Kusuma, the Glitch King.' Also said to tell you the crust is stuffed with liquid thermite and secrets. Enjoy your meal, bruh!"The truck’s bottom hatch slid open with a pneumatic hiss. A standard cardboard pizza box drifted down, held aloft by a tiny, disposable anti-gravity puck glued to its center. It landed softly on the pavement between Doni and Dona, radiating the scent of oregano a