The Reborn Young Master Is No Longer a Simp

Starting From The Bottom

Monday morning. 7:45 AM.

Noah stood in front of the Bennett Global headquarters building, looking up at the glass tower that stretched thirty floors into the sky. The company logo gleamed above the main entrance in polished steel letters.

Bennett Global Group.

His father had built this from nothing. Thirty years of deals, investments, partnerships, and ruthless business decisions had turned a small construction firm into one of the most powerful conglomerates in the country.

Noah’s chest tightened.

In his past life, this same building had been surrounded by reporters, police, angry investors, and employees begging for unpaid salaries. The logo had been covered with graffiti. The windows had been boarded up. The security guards had been replaced by bailiffs.

But now, the building was alive.

Employees rushed through the main entrance, swiping ID cards and heading to their departments. Security guards stood politely at the doors. The lobby lights were bright and welcoming.

Noah took a slow breath.

He wasn’t here as the heir today.

He was here as a Junior Operations Analyst.

He walked through the entrance.

Beep.

His temporary ID card scanned at the security gate. The guard glanced at the screen, then at Noah. His expression shifted slightly, but he said nothing. He just nodded and waved Noah through.

Noah stepped into the lobby.

Immediately, he heard the whispers.

“Is that him?”

“The one who walked away from that girl at graduation?”

“I heard his dad forced him to work here as punishment.”

“He’s probably just playing office for a week before he quits.”

“Poor Elena. She must be so embarrassed.”

Noah kept walking. His expression stayed neutral. He didn’t turn around. He didn’t respond.

In his past life, he would have snapped at them. He would have used his status to shut them up. He would have reminded everyone that he was Richard Bennett’s son and they should show respect.

But now, Noah understood that respect couldn’t be demanded.

It had to be earned.

He took the elevator to the twelfth floor.

Ding.

The doors opened, and Noah stepped into the Operations Analysis Department.

The department was large and open, filled with rows of desks separated by low dividers. Analysts sat in front of computers, reviewing reports, making calls, and typing furiously. The air smelled like coffee and printer ink.

A middleaged man stood near the entrance, arms crossed, watching Noah approach.

He was tall, broadshouldered, and wore a plain gray suit. His hair was starting to gray at the temples. His expression was stern and unwelcoming.

“Noah Bennett?” the man asked.

“Yes,” Noah said.

“I’m Harold Grant. Department Manager. You report to me.” His tone was blunt and cold. “Inside this department, you are not Young Master Bennett. You are not the heir. You are just a junior analyst. If you can’t handle that, leave now.”

Noah met his gaze. “I understand.”

Harold studied him for a moment, as if waiting for Noah to complain or demand special treatment.

When Noah said nothing, Harold turned and gestured toward the back of the office. “Your desk is over there. Third row from the window. You’ll find your login credentials and work laptop already set up.”

Noah followed him.

The desk was small, squeezed between two other analysts. There was no nameplate, no extra space, and no privacy. A stack of files sat on the corner of the desk, waiting for him.

Harold picked up the stack and dropped it in front of Noah.

Thud.

“Shipment delay reports,” Harold said. “Review them. Flag any issues. Submit your findings by end of day. Any questions?”

“No,” Noah said.

Harold raised an eyebrow. “Good. Get to work.”

He walked away.

Noah sat down and pulled the first file toward him. The other analysts nearby glanced at him briefly, then returned to their work. No one greeted him. No one offered help.

That was fine.

Noah opened the file and started reading.

An hour passed.

Noah worked quietly, reviewing shipment delays from Bennett Global’s logistics division. The reports were dry and repetitive. Most of the delays were minor: traffic accidents, weather issues, customs holdups.

Nothing unusual.

But Noah didn’t complain. He just kept reading.

Around him, the other analysts whispered occasionally.

One of them, a young man with slickedback hair, leaned over to his coworker. “How long do you think he’ll last?”

“Maybe a week,” the coworker replied. “Rich kids never last.”

Another analyst, an older woman, walked past Noah’s desk and dropped an extra stack of files next to him.

“These need to be reviewed too,” she said. “Think you can handle it?”

Noah looked up at her. “Yes.”

She paused, as if expecting him to argue. When he didn’t, she walked away looking slightly confused.

A few minutes later, another analyst made a quiet joke. “Maybe Elena dumped him, and now he’s trying to prove he’s a hard worker.”

Someone else laughed. “Or maybe he dumped her and now he feels guilty.”

Noah ignored them.

He kept his eyes on the reports. He kept his expression calm. He didn’t use his status. He didn’t threaten anyone.

The mockery continued for a while.

Then, slowly, it started to turn awkward.

Because Noah wasn’t reacting the way they expected.

He wasn’t complaining. He wasn’t demanding special treatment. He wasn’t throwing his father’s name around.

He was just working.

By lunchtime, the whispers had mostly stopped.

Buzz buzz.

Noah’s phone vibrated on the desk.

He glanced down.

Elena: Hey. Are you okay?

Noah stared at the message for a moment. Then another one came through.

Elena: I heard your dad made you start working at Bennett Global. Is it because of what happened at graduation? I feel so guilty.

Noah’s jaw tightened.

She was fishing for information.

She wanted to know what position Noah had and if he still trusted her.

Noah typed a reply.

Noah: Don’t worry. I chose this myself. I just want to become someone people won’t use to insult you.

He hit send.

A few seconds later, Elena replied.

Elena: You’re so sweet. I don’t deserve you.

Noah stared at the message.

In his past life, those words would have made him feel like a hero. Now, they just made him sick.

He put his phone away and returned to the files.

But this time, he noticed something.

One of the files in the stack was labeled: Westbridge Development Contract – Cost Estimate Review.

Noah’s eyes narrowed.

Westbridge.

The $800 million urban redevelopment contract. The first major loss in his past life.

He opened the file.

At first glance, it looked like a normal logistics report. Material cost updates, contractor schedule changes, supplier pricing revisions. Nothing unusual.

But Noah read more carefully.

Then he noticed something strange.

The internal cost estimate listed in this file was slightly different from the version he remembered seeing in the operations archive earlier that morning.

The numbers weren’t drastically different. Just a few percentage points off. Small enough to avoid immediate suspicion.

But if this version leaked to competitors, it would weaken Bennett Global’s bid just enough to lose the contract.

Noah leaned back in his chair.

This wasn’t a mistake.

This was sabotage.

He opened his laptop and navigated to the operations archive. He pulled up the original Westbridge cost estimate and compared it to the version in the file.

The differences were subtle but deliberate.

The changed numbers made Bennett Global’s cost estimate look higher than it really was. If a competitor received this version, they could underbid Bennett Global by just enough to win.

Someone had altered the numbers.

Noah’s heart pounded. He clicked on the document’s access history.

A list of names appeared.

Most of them were legitimate: project managers, operations analysts, finance reviewers.

But one entry stood out.

An employee named Victor Han had downloaded the file at 11:47 PM last Thursday.

Late at night.

Noah clicked on Victor Han’s profile. He was a midlevel analyst in the Legal Compliance Department.

Legal Compliance had no reason to access Westbridge cost estimates.

Noah scrolled further.

The file had been accessed from a terminal in the Legal Compliance office on the fourteenth floor.

Why would someone in Legal Compliance need this file at midnight?

Noah stared at the screen.

He couldn’t accuse anyone yet. He didn’t have enough proof. And if he reported this too early, the real leak might disappear before he could trace it back to the hidden man.

But he couldn’t ignore it either.

But he couldn’t ignore it either.

A message flashed in his mind.

[Mission Progress Updated.]

[Westbridge Contract Risk Level: Rising.]

Noah closed the file and sat back.

He needed to be smart about this.

If he reported the leak immediately, the saboteur would go underground. If he did nothing, Bennett Global would lose the contract.

Noah opened a blank document and began drafting a plan.

Three versions of the same cost estimate.

Three different internal paths.

Three tiny number changes that only he would recognize.

If one version leaked, he would know which path had been compromised.

But he couldn’t plant the files yet. Not on his first day. Not without understanding the department’s access rules or having someone in IT he could trust.

For now, he saved the plan privately and copied Victor Han’s access history to his personal notes.

He closed his laptop.

Around him, the other analysts continued working, completely unaware.

Noah looked across the office.

Somewhere in this building, someone was opening the door for the hidden man. Someone was feeding him information, sabotaging contracts, and slowly dismantling Bennett Global from the inside.

In his past life, Noah had blamed fate for the company’s collapse.

But now he understood the truth.

The empire hadn’t fallen because of bad luck or market forces.

It had been betrayed from inside its own walls.

Noah clenched his fists.

He would find the leak.

He would trace it back to the source.

And when he did, he would burn it all down.

The workday ended at 6:00 PM.

Noah packed up his things and stood. His back ached from sitting all day. His eyes were tired from reading reports.

But he didn’t complain.

Harold Grant walked past his desk and paused. “You lasted the day. Good. Be here at eight tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir,” Noah said.

Harold nodded and walked away.

Noah left the office and took the elevator down to the lobby.

Ding.

The doors opened, and Noah stepped out.

The lobby was nearly empty now. Most employees had already gone home. The security guards stood near the entrance, talking quietly.

Noah walked toward the exit.

But as he passed the main reception desk, he heard a familiar voice.

“Noah!”

He turned.

Elena stood near the entrance, wearing a light blue dress and carrying a small handbag. She smiled warmly and walked toward him.

“I felt bad about earlier,” she said. “I didn’t want you going home alone after your first day.” “How was your first day?”

Noah looked at her.

In his past life, this moment would have felt romantic. Elena waiting for him after work, caring about his day, supporting him.

Now, all Noah saw was a spy checking if her target was still under control.

He forced a smile. “It was fine. Just a lot of reports.”

“I’m glad,” Elena said. She reached out and touched his arm lightly. “I was worried about you.”

“You don’t need to worry,” Noah said.

Elena tilted her head. “Are you sure? You seem… different.”

Noah’s heart skipped.

Had he slipped?

He softened his expression and took her hand. “I’m just tired. It’s been a long day.”

Elena studied his face for a moment.

Then she smiled. “Okay. Just promise me you’ll take care of yourself.”

“I will,” Noah said.

She squeezed his hand, then let go. “Call me later?”

“Sure.”

Elena kissed his cheek and walked away.

Noah watched her leave.

She still believed he was the same fool.

Good.

He turned and walked out of the building.

The sun had already set. The city lights glowed in the distance.

Noah pulled out his phone and opened his notes app. He stared at the list he had started.

Black V charm. Confidential document. Shell companies.

Westbridge Contract. Victor Han. Legal Compliance. 11:47 PM d******d.

Elena was only one thread.

Bennett Global had another.

And somewhere ahead, both threads led to the same hidden hand.