The atmosphere in the executive hallway instantly froze. The red emergency strobe lights continued their blinding flashes, but for Martin, time felt as if it had completely stopped ticking. Moana lowered her head, staring down at the tiny metal screw that had just bounced with a sharp ring right in front of the tip of her high heels. The woman's face immediately contorted in tension. Slowly, with highly calculated movements, Moana tilted her head upward, staring straight toward the slightly ajar gap of the ventilation grille. Inside the pitch-black ventilation duct, Martin held his breath so tightly his chest ached. His muscles tensed as hard as steel, fully prepared to lunge downward the exact second Moana screamed. The distance separating them was a mere three meters vertically. If Moana realized there was an eye watching her and shouted, the heavily armed security squad currently sweeping the lower floors would swarm up the stairs in a matter of seconds. Moana's brown eyes narro

Absolute chaos erupted in the main lobby of Whitlock Tower precisely at ten in the morning. All daily operational activities of the massive conglomerate suddenly ground to a complete halt. Dozens of lower-level employees consisting of logistics couriers, janitorial staff, and night-shift security guards were forcibly herded out of their work areas. They were lined up facing the giant glass walls of the lobby, heavily monitored by a dozen black-uniformed security personnel standing at high alert with tasers drawn. The suffocatingly tense atmosphere sliced through the air exactly like a mass execution in a totalitarian state.At the very end of the elongated line stood Martin, holding a terrifyingly hunched posture, wearing his filthy blue uniform and the faded cap that heavily obscured his prosthetic face. "Everyone drop your belongings on the floor! Empty your pant pockets, take off your jackets, and place both of your hands high against the wall! Right