A voice, as cool and detached as ever, came from within: "Come in."

  Michael pushed the door open roughly, his movements aggressive.

  He stared at Elena, who sat behind the desk reading a file, his chest heaving violently, his voice laced with suppressed fury:

  "Elena, what exactly did you do to me?"

  Elena raised her gaze, her eyes falling calmly on him as if she had expected this.

  She set down her fountain pen, interlocked her fingers, and placed them on the desk.

  "Oh? You're awake?"

  Michael, not having completely lost his senses, closed the door behind him and continued:

  "You sent me to get the key from the Black Bone Gang. What was the real purpose? Setting me up?"

  He remembered desperately fighting his way out from the rhinoceros man, remembered the two days his consciousness had been taken over by Yang Chen.

  Rage nearly burst from his chest.

  In his mind, he thought about tearing open the proud woman's blouse!

  But it was just a thought. He went on:

  "No Man's Alley! You were there that day too, in No Man's Alley! I saw you through that old guy's eyes! You were standing on top of the iron shed, watching me from afar!"

  Elena watched his furious expression, the corners of her mouth slowly curving into a faint, subtle arc.

  "So you do have a temper. But is this the attitude you should have towards your lifesaver and your boss?"

  Seeing her utterly composed demeanor, Michael knew he looked like a clown.

  He took several deep breaths, easing his emotions a little, then asked:

  "That key I got from the Black Bone Gang, what's it for?"

  As expected, simply venting emotions was useless.

  Once he calmed down slightly and asked the key question, Elena was at least willing to answer:

  "It's a necessity for your upcoming delivery. You did well this time. I'll promote you two levels."

  The weight of that statement was not small:

  Michael had worked diligently at Ivy Corp for two years, only climbing from Level 1 sales agent to Level 2.

  If Elena directly promoted him to Level 4, that would be like raising his salary from 2030G to 4120G.

  What did a doubled income mean?

  It meant a doubled standard of living.

  It meant he and Mia could finally afford to rent a decent apartment together!

  Thinking of this, Michael's tone softened another fraction. But he still had to ask:

  "Manager Chen, that Yang Chen inside me... you said he's your ancestor, that he wants to take back the company, that I need to shake off his control. But in reality..."

  Elena didn't let Michael finish the question:

  "But without him, you couldn't have completed this task successfully, could you? Because of him, your salary is doubling, isn't that right?"

  Elena's pretty face was full of the arrogance of a ruler and disdain for those at the bottom. Nameless fury flared in Michael's heart again.

  But this time, he didn't let his emotions erupt:

  "Even though I'm just a small employee, I know that judging someone depends on their actions, not their words. It's quite clear, Manager Chen, that you have no intention of helping me break free from Yang Chen's control. On the contrary, you want to speed up the process of him taking over."

  This time, Elena grinned.

  It was a wicked grin, yet stunningly beautiful. She chuckled softly, her hands lightly clapping.

  This was her admission. Michael knew asking further was pointless. He turned and left.

  Back at his desk.

  Michael slumped into his office chair.

  The backrest let out a low, complaining creak, as if unable to bear the weight.

  He raised a hand to his forehead, fingertips pressing against his throbbing temples, his mind rapidly replaying every word, every glance exchanged with Elena.

  Elena's casual remark about the "double promotion" still echoed in his ears, yet Michael felt not a shred of joy, only a wave of icy cold.

  He had finally figured it out.

  Elena was no lifesaver.

  She and Yang Chen were two of a kind, snake and rat, granddaughter and ancestor.

  Yang Chen was probably the founder of Ivy Corp, ousted and even killed by the elders.

  Elena, as a descendant, carrying the Chen family blood, had only managed to reach a mid-level manager position within the company, nowhere near the board of directors—that in itself was suspicious.

  Their purpose had been obvious from the very beginning.

  Yang Chen wanted to reclaim control of Ivy Corp.

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  Elena wanted to use Yang Chen's power to leap from a mid-level position to the pinnacle of authority.

  And he, Michael, was merely a vessel for Yang Chen, a pawn in the Chen family's grand scheme of revival, a tool that could be discarded after use.

  A mix of humiliation, anger, and fear surged violently into Michael's heart.

  He clenched his fists, nails digging deep into his palms. The sting brought a sliver of clarity.

  No. He absolutely could not let Yang Chen take over his body again.

  But the thought of resistance had just surfaced when a bucket of cold reality doused it.

  Elena held his secret, the leverage of his transformation.

  If he dared to openly resist, would Elena hand him over to Ivy Corp's current upper echelons?

  Leaning back in the chair, Michael closed his eyes, carefully weighing the pros and cons.

  No.

  Absolutely not.

  If Ivy Corp's upper management learned that Yang Chen's consciousness was still alive, parasitizing his body, the first to be dealt with wouldn't just be him, Michael, but also Elena, who was undoubtedly connected to Yang Chen.

  Handing him over would be no different from destroying her own future, ruining Elena's revival plans.

  This woman was a master schemer.

  She would never do something that harmed others without benefiting herself.

  Having figured this out, Michael relaxed slightly, only to quickly frown again.

  Elena wouldn't hand him over, but that didn't mean she wouldn't continue to manipulate him. In the future, when she ordered him to do things, could he refuse?

  The answer was: It would be very difficult.

  Michael's gaze drifted involuntarily to the workstation opposite.

  Mia was bent over, organizing files.

  Sunlight filtered through the window, casting a soft halo on her hair.

  He couldn't break free. His greatest weakness was Mia.

  Michael understood better than anyone how hard survival was in this wasteland world.

  He had studied diligently for over a decade, fighting desperately just to squeeze into Ivy Corp, becoming one of the lucky few among the countless masses at the bottom.

  He had endured for two years at the company, only managing to rise from Level 1 to Level 2 sales agent, earning a meager 2030G salary.

  He couldn't even afford a proper rental apartment, forced to cram into a partitioned room in the slums.

  Out in the world, corpses of the starved littered the ground.

  For a bite of food, some sold their blood, some sold their organs, and some, risking everything, became pawns for gangs, ending up dead in the streets.

  And Elena, with a single sentence, could promote him two levels, directly doubling his salary to 4120G.

  That meant he could afford an apartment with a balcony.

  He could buy Mia the cream-filled bread she couldn't afford.

  They wouldn't have to worry about next month's rations.

  This temptation was too great for him.

  Michael opened his eyes.

  The confusion in their depths gradually faded, replaced by a clarity that bordered on desperate resolve.

  Resist?

  He didn't have the capital for that yet.

  Elena's bargaining chips were his secret, Yang Chen's power.

  His only bargaining chips were his own life, and that bit of unwillingness in his heart.

  Michael fished a cigarette from the drawer, placed it between his lips, but didn't light it.

  He looked at the smoke-hazed office, at the gray sky outside the window. A thought gradually crystallized in his mind.

  Earn money fast.

  He would use the Level 4 sales agent identity Elena gave him, use Ivy Corp's resources, even dabble in some shady dealings if necessary, to accumulate a sum of money.

  The goal wasn't huge: 100,000G.

  As long as he saved 100,000G, he'd take Mia and leave this city, go to a place where no one knew them, change their identities, and start fresh.

  By then, whether it was Yang Chen, Elena, or Ivy Corp's power games, none of it would have anything to do with him, Michael.

  He crushed the unlit cigarette and threw it into the trash, his fingertips white with pressure.

  A pawn?

  Then he'd be the best pawn he could be.

  Once he'd saved enough capital to run, he would personally, with his own hands, overturn this chessboard.

  With 100,000G as security, plus the superhuman strength Yang Chen granted him—even without transforming, he possessed considerable combat power.

  But speaking of combat power, Michael sank into deep thought once more...