64 A punishnt
"Who are you? What are you doing here?" the law director demanded, his voice rising in agitation. "Get out!"
The law director's phone slipped from his hands, clattering onto his desk as his arrogance swiftly turned into fear.
The mont the reality of who he was speaking to hit him, he could feel the cold sweat forming on his forehead. "This is Boss Noah", he thought, panic washing over him.
Quickly standing up, he forced a nervous smile and walked toward Noah. "I-I'm sorry, Boss. I really didn't know it was you. I thought you were so random person invading my privacy." His voice was shaky as he spoke, trying to maintain his composure.
As he glanced at the young man before him, a small thought crept into his mind. "He's so young... he's an easy-to-scam rich second generation.." An evil smirk tried to tug at the corners of his mind, but he quickly suppressed it, hiding his intentions.
Noah wasn't having any of it. His eyes bore into the law director with a piercing coldness, his voice flat and uncompromising. "Why are you not doing your work?" There was no room for excuses in his tone—it was a direct challenge.
The law director, sensing the danger but still trying to worm his way out, put on his most flattering tone. "I was on my break, sir. I just started my break a few minutes ago," he said, smiling weakly as if hoping to diffuse the situation.
Noah's gaze didn't soften. Instead, he turned toward John, standing by his side, observing everything with growing unease. "Is it break ti?" Noah asked pointedly, his voice carrying the sa cold edge.
John swallowed nervously, trying to steady his voice. "To be honest, sir, the directors are allowed two hours of break throughout the day. They pick the ti as long as they et the requirents of their work. That's been the company rule."
Noah's eyes narrowed. There it was, the culture of entitlent that had allowed laziness to fester in the higher levels of managent. Conflict was necessary to push change—this was the mont to shift the power dynamics. The company's rules needed to reflect a standard of accountability and discipline, not lax privilege.
"Okay," Noah said, his voice firm. "From now on, all directors need to report the ti they take breaks to you, John. You will make sure everyone is doing their job. Understood?"
"Yes, sir!" John replied, feeling the pressure rise in the room. A bead of sweat rolled down his neck, and he couldn't help but feel grateful that he wasn't the one in the hot seat right now.
Noah turned his attention back to the law director, whose once-angry expression had long faded. The atmosphere around them shifted, tension thickening as Noah spoke. "What happened with the investigation into the financial records?"
The law director's confidence tried to resurface, but it faltered under Noah's cold scrutiny. With a slight scoff in his mind, he answered, "Nothing, sir. There's no foul play in the financial records." In his mind, he sneered.
"This kid thinks just because he has money, he can co in here and change everything? I've hidden things so well, there's no way he'll find anything. With him in charge, my salary will increase."
He almost laughed internally at how easily he believed he could manipulate Noah.
But before the law director could revel in his imagined victory, a familiar sound echoed in Noah's mind:
[Ding! The Ultimate Choice System has been activated!]
Option 1: Investigate the financial records for any embezzlent or foul play. [Rewards: Interdiate Accountant Skill & $150,000]
Option 2: Ask the director to investigate the financial records again to make sure. [Rewards: Basic Accountant Skill]
Option 3: Don't bother with the financial records—it's too much work. [Rewards: Several thousand dollars]
With the choices looming in his mind, Noah's decision was clear. He wasn't about to let a potential snake like the law director slither inside his nest.
"Option 1!" Noah's mind resonated with the thought as the familiar "ding" faded, and instantly, a flood of knowledge overtook him.
Financial models, accounting principles, and the expertise of legendary bankers like J.P. Morgan flashed before his eyes. Complex formulas and sharp analytical processes sharpened his mind as if he'd been practicing accounting for decades.
His eyes turned cold as he fixed his gaze on the law director, now seated with a growing unease. "Show the records," Noah commanded, his voice leaving no room for excuses or delays.
The law director, feeling a sudden shiver of doubt, stared at Noah. "Does the boss have a degree in accounting?" He wondered, his arrogance making room for a sliver of uncertainty.
Noah, with his piercing gaze, didn't need to offer long explanations. "No," he said, his voice calm but carrying the weight of the unexpected. "I'm a high schooler."
The law director's face twitched slightly. "A high schooler?!" The thought burned in his mind, his initial fear lting back into disdain.
"He's just a kid playing boss." The director scoffed inwardly, the malicious smirk hidden behind a neutral facade.
"Okay, boss," he replied, keeping his voice level. In his mind, though, the young boss now seed even more naive and vulnerable.
"This will be easy."
He moved toward the computer, pulling up the financial records. His fingers hovered over the mouse, clicking thodically as he accessed the files. Noah stood directly behind him, watching his every movent with the intensity of an eagle observing its prey. The law director, feeling the weight of Noah's presence, printed all the docunts Noah had requested, confident that this "kid" wouldn't have the skill to analyze the complex data.
As the printer churned out pages of financial reports, Noah stood quietly, nodding slightly as the last sheet rolled out.
"This man thinks I can't analyze the records," Noah thought, noticing the subtle shift in the director's posture.
The law director relaxed, his movents more fluid now, as though the worst was over. But for Noah, the real work had only just begun.
Noah moved to a nearby table with the stack of papers in hand, flipping through the records swiftly. His mind, now equipped with the expertise of world-class accountants, imdiately went to work. His focus was unbreakable, his deanour calm but intense. As he scanned the pages, John and the law director stood by, watching him with different emotions playing out in their minds. John, his forehead beaded with sweat, hoped there wouldn't be any trouble.
The law director, on the other hand, was filled with smug satisfaction, convinced Noah was only going through the motions.
Thirty minutes passed, and the tension in the room grew heavier with each tick of the clock. Noah's eyes scanned the last line of numbers, and with a final flip, he placed the papers neatly on the table.
His expression was unreadable. He stood up slowly, exuding a quiet, dominant energy that filled the room.
Without looking at the law director, Noah turned to John. His words were firm and cold. "Call the police."
John froze for a second, blinking in shock.
A single sentence, yet it sent a wave of panic through the air. John nodded quickly, his hand fumbling for his phone. "Y-Yes, sir!" he stamred, dialling the ergency number with trembling fingers.
The law director, who had been watching from his seat, felt a sharp pang of confusion. "Why are we calling the police?" His face paled as he realized sothing was very wrong.
His voice, previously filled with arrogance, now wavered slightly. "Why are we calling the police, sir? Is… is sothing wrong?" His tone, though feigning innocence, was laced with fear.
Noah didn't respond. His silence was more terrifying than any reprimand. He simply stared ahead, his thoughts carefully concealed.
The law director shifted in his seat, his thoughts swirling in chaos. "Did he find sothing? Was it possible? No, that couldn't be."
"I had hidden everything too well, this kid didn't even know what he was reading."
His mind raced. "He's trying to scare into confessing. That's it."
His nerves tensed, but he clung to his internal narrative. "He couldn't have found anything. He's bluffing."
But as the minutes dragged on in silence, the law director's certainty wavered. Every second that passed felt like an eternity.
The stillness in the room, with Noah standing like a silent storm ready to strike, only intensified the fear gnawing at him. His thoughts tumbled one over the other, unable to focus.
"What if he did find sothing?"
The tension snapped when, twenty minutes later, a knock sounded on the office door, and two uniford police officers entered the room.
The law director's heart sank. He felt cold, clammy dread flood his body as the officers made their way toward Noah, who turned to greet them with a nod.
"Officers," Noah said, his voice calm yet carrying the weight of his authority. "I need you to conduct an investigation into financial misconduct."
The law director's blood ran cold. This wasn't a bluff.
His smirk, his arrogance, all of it was crumbling under the weight of Noah's quiet dominance. The value shift was complete—Noah was no longer just a young, naive owner. Your gift is the motivation for my creation. Give more motivation!
Creation is hard, cheer up!
Risaliyah
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