The walk to the construction site felt different today. Maybe it was the weight of my new uniform, the tailored jacket resting perfectly on my shoulders. Or maybe it was the union paper in my pocket, a silent promise that today would be the last day Nathan ever walked over us.
When I arrived at the site, I noticed sothing was off imdiately. The usual early-morning chatter was gone, replaced by a tense, suffocating silence. Workers were clustered near the main gate, their expressions grim.
And then I saw him.
Nathan positioned himself at the heart of the crowd, arms folded, exuding superiority. However, he was not by himself.
Next to him stood a man wearing a stylish black suit, shiny shoes, and slender-frad glasses. His stance was rigid, deliberate, and every aspect of him exuded command. His simple presence seed authoritative, akin to a judge ready to announce a final decision.
My vision flickered.
—
[System Interface]
Na: Damian Voss
Job: Corporate Lawyer (A-Rank)
Skills:
Legal Authority (Level 7) – Grants overwhelming influence in contractual disputes. Can nullify lower-rank agreents and override worker objections in legal settings.
Clause Manipulation (Level 8) – Instantly identifies loopholes in any contract, allowing for reinterpretation in favor of the user or their client.
Corporate Shield (Level 7) – Protects the user from legal repercussions when representing high-value clients, ensuring minimal risk of liability.
Intimidation Through Status (Level 8) – Increases persuasion against lower-rank individuals, making it difficult for them to oppose legal actions.
Case Precedent (Level 8) – Grants access to historical rulings and previous cases, allowing the user to strengthen their legal argunts.
—
An A-Rank lawyer. My grip tightened. This wasn't just so standard legal representative—this was soone Nathan had specifically brought in to make sure none of us walked away from this unscathed.
I stayed back, listening.
Sienna was at the front of the group, arms crossed, standing her ground as always.
"You're the one who screwed up the Hudson Bridge project," she snapped. "You misplaced a bolt, nearly causing the whole project to go down. That's on you, Nathan. Own up to it."
Nathan laughed dismissively, shaking his head as if he couldn't accept what he was hearing. "Who do you think you're speaking to?" His tone was cutting, laden with disdain. "I'm an A-Rank. I don't need admit to anything."
Damian adjusted his glasses, his tone eerily calm. "My client is within his rights to pursue termination of all involved personnel. As an A-Rank, his contributions to this district outweigh those of lower-ranked workers."
The district murmured anxiously.
Nathan smirked. "You hear that? All of you? You're finished. You're done. You're out of a damn job." His gaze swept across the crowd like a predator surveying prey. "The best part is that getting fired isn't so slap on the wrist. It's permanent. It's on your record. No one will hire you again—not legally, at least. So go ahead, tell , what's next for your pathetic lives?"
Silence.
Even Sienna faltered, her hands trembling slightly. I saw the way her jaw clenched, the way her breath hitched. She wouldn't cry—not here, not now—but she was close.
Nathan laughed. "What? Nothing to say? Thought so."
And that's when I stepped forward.
"You're wrong," I said.
Every head turned.
Nathan blinked, then let out a sharp, mocking laugh. "Oh, this is rich. You? The F-Rank reject?" He turned to the lawyer. "Get a load of this guy."
I pulled out my card and held it up.
B-Rank.
The silence stretched. So of the workers outright gasped.
Sienna just smiled slightly, as if she had been waiting for this mont.
Nathan's laughter died. "What?"
"You heard ," I said, slipping my card back into my pocket. "I'm B-Rank now."
The workers exchanged glances, so of them looking almost sympathetic. A promotion, just to be fired. That's what they were thinking. That's what Nathan was thinking too, because he imdiately smirked again.
"Congratulations," he said mockingly. "Hope you enjoyed it while it lasted."
I tilted my head. "You really think we're getting fired?"
Nathan narrowed his eyes. "That's exactly what's happening."
I smirked and pulled out the real trump card.
The union paper.
The effect was instant.
The lawyer stiffened. The workers stared. Even Nathan, for the first ti, looked uncertain.
"Let remind you how this works," I said, voice carrying over the entire site. "Union papers give workers voting rights on industry policies, regulations, and—" I looked Nathan directly in the eye. "Leadership decisions."
Nathan's face darkened.
I turned to the crowd. "If we all agree that Nathan is unfit to lead—if we unanimously vote to remove him—he's fired."
The workers didn't hesitate.
One by one, hands shot into the air.
Every. Single. One.
Nathan's face twisted in fury. "You can't do this!" He whirled toward Damian. "Do sothing!"
Damian didn't move.
Nathan grabbed his arm, his voice desperate. "I said—!"
The lawyer calmly pried Nathan's fingers off his suit, as if brushing off dirt. "I'm afraid I no longer represent you," he said simply.
And just like that, Nathan was alone.
For the first ti, real fear flickered across his face.
Then, my vision flickered again.
—
[System Notification]
Target: Nathan Crowley
Status: Fired
Skill Activation: [Destroy]
Would you like to proceed?
[Y/N]
—
My finger moved before I even thought about it.
[Yes.]
—
Nathan staggered. His body locked up. His breath hitched violently as the system took hold, ripping away everything.
His rank.
His skills.
His privileges.
Gone.
"Sir, you are currently trespassing, please leave." I said with a rather mocking grin
Nathan gasped, his posture sagging as if his very essence had been stripped away.
He looked at his hands—trembling, powerless hands.
And then he looked at .
I didn't move. Didn't flinch. Didn't even blink.
He lunged.
Or at least, he tried to.
His hands slamd into my chest—but I didn't budge.
Instead, he stumbled backward, falling onto the dirt with a choked noise.
His eyes—wild, desperate, lost—locked onto mine.
I could see it. The realization. The terror. The truth.
I wasn't the sa anymore.
I wasn't beneath him.
I was beyond him.
For the first ti, he found himself looking up.
Tears started to gather in his eyes. "Y-You..."
I didn't say anything.
Because nothing needed to be said.
I just looked down at him—at the man who had tornted us, belittled us, crushed us beneath his boot for years.
And now, he was nothing.
Nothing but a powerless, broken shell.
And for the first ti in my life, I felt subli.
Reviews
All reviews (0)