Saving up 100,000G, escaping Ivy Company with her,。
finding a place where no one knows them, renting a house with a small yard, teaching her how to box for self-defense...
Those burning aspirations were now shrouded in a thick layer of ash, turning blurry and laughable.
If Mia was really like the rumors said, was this bond, tainted with lies and calculation, worth him risking his life for?
A more selfish thought suddenly sprang to mind—maybe leaving alone would be easier.
No need to split his focus protecting someone, no need to worry about someone else's safety,。
no need to take Elena's life-threatening jobs just for two people's rations。
and no need, in the constant fear of Yang Chen possibly seizing power at any moment, to also waste energy figuring out who was sincere.
Saving money alone, escaping alone—lonely, yes, but at least he wouldn't have to shoulder so many uncertain risks.
Michael took a deep breath, suppressing the churning emotions in his chest, and stepped forward towards the building.
As he passed the gossiping couple, he deliberately slowed his pace, letting his shoulder bump the male gossip with just the right amount of force.
The man staggered, the onigiri in his hand falling to the ground. He turned, about to explode in anger, but upon seeing it was Michael, the fury instantly froze on his face.
His eyes darted nervously, showing clear guilt and panic. He didn't even dare utter a harsh word.
Michael gave him a cold glance, said nothing, and walked straight into the building.
It was time for his scheduled training with Gunnar. Distracted, today's session was very ineffective.
The words " the public bus" weighed heavily on Michael.
Gunnar shook his head and left, somewhat disappointed.
...
In the West District Sales Manager's office, Elena was deep in thought, her ring finger tapping rhythmically on the desk.
At this hour, the open-plan office outside was essentially empty.
This was exactly the moment she was waiting for.
Something kept replaying in her mind.
East District, 1,000,000G, Broad-spectrum antibiotics, Cold-chain transport, 8 PM tonight, 9th Avenue—these keywords burned like red-hot branding irons, chilling glints flashing in her eyes.
Elena stood up, approached the window to peek through the tightly closed blinds, confirming no shadow of a person in the gaps.
Only then did she return to her desk and pick up the phone.
Her fingertip traced the cold body of the phone. The call connected, and her voice dropped to a very low pitch:
"It's me."
A raspy male voice, tinged with cautious obsequiousness, came from the other end:
"Miss Chen, what are your instructions?"
"Tonight at 8 PM, there's a cold-chain truck on 9th Avenue. The cargo is White Bottles, value in the seven figures. Hit it exactly at eight."
The voice on the other end clearly grew excited:
"White Bottles?!" The male voice paused, greed seeping into his tone. "That's real hard currency! Don't worry, Miss Chen, the brothers will get it done!"
"Getting it done is fine," Elena interrupted him, her fingertip tapping the desk with an even, chilling rhythm. "But I'll only say this once—take the goods only. Don't hurt anyone."
The male voice hesitated. "Miss Chen, you're... afraid of trouble?"
"Ivy's Security Department isn't for decoration," Elena's voice turned colder. "If people die, they'll most likely trace it back to your Black Bones Crew. How stable do you think your position as boss will be then?"
The person on the phone immediately fell silent. After a long moment, he said sheepishly:
"Understood, understood. I'll lead the team myself tonight. Just the goods, no lives."
"It'd best be that way." Elena's lips curled into a faint smile that didn't reach her eyes. "After the goods are secured, split as per the usual arrangement."
Hanging up, she leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes.
To climb higher, money was undeniably essential. Money and power were fundamentally intertwined.
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Hijacking her own company's shipment was the most efficient way, especially since it wasn't from her own West District.
From the corridor outside the office came the sound of very light footsteps, as if someone was tiptoeing past.
Elena's eyes snapped open, her heart pounding wildly!
She practically leaped up, covering the distance to her private office door in three quick strides and yanking it open.
Looking out... no one.
No matter how composed Elena appeared, that was just the surface.
Nothing was more frightening in this kind of insider theft than being exposed.
She quickened her pace, first walking to the main office door—no one.
Then she looked back, scanning the area—indeed, no one.
She must have misheard. Elena sighed, feeling she was too on edge.
It wasn't like this was the first time she'd done this.
No need to scare herself.
...
Mia pressed herself against the fire hydrant at the end of the corridor, cold sweat soaking her back and sticking her shirt to her skin.
She clutched the financial department documents in her arms, her knuckles white from the force, not even daring to breathe loudly.
Just moments before, when she was about to enter Elena's office to deliver the documents, she happened to hear Elena talking on the phone.
It was unusual. Manager Chen wasn't exactly loud-spoken—she always carried that cool, authoritative, domineering vibe.
A leader, aloof and commanding. She never spoke in such a sneaky, covert way.
Mia's first thought was that Manager Chen might be secretly dating someone.
Before her own relationship with Michael, when Mia worked in the finance department, she had secretly dated a male colleague herself.
But the content of Manager Chen's call was strange:
"White Bottles," "seven figures," "9th Avenue," "hit it at eight."
These words, like poison-tipped needles, stabbed sharply into her eardrums.
White Bottles...
Mia's heart hammered so violently it felt like it would burst from her throat.
During her six months as a low-level clerk in the finance department, she had become all too familiar with that code name.
It meant broad-spectrum antibiotics—hard currency in the wasteland world that could save lives and, even more, be traded for them.
A single bottle could be exchanged for a month's worth of rations.
The value of a crate was enough to drive the slum dwellers into a frenzy.
Just grabbing a little would surely surpass 100,000G, right?
That number exploded in her mind.
Her and Michael's escape plan was stuck right at that hurdle.
Her own salary was 1,680G. Mike's had just increased to 4,200G.
They had scrimped and saved to the absolute limit, to the point of malnutrition, with Michael even taking Manager Chen's dangerous side jobs, and in half a year, they had only managed to save a little over 30,000.
And 100,000G was the guarantee they needed to leave this city, strangled by Ivy Company, to rent a house with a small yard in a border town and live a stable life.
She remembered Michael's exhausted profile from last night.
Sitting on the hard plank bed in their partitioned room, rubbing his throbbing temples with his fingertips, his voice hoarse as he said:
"Just wait a little more, Mia. Once I've saved enough money, I'll take you away."
Actually, this very morning, Mia herself had overheard colleagues whispering behind her back.
Those rumors clung to her like ghosts.
"Public bus."
"Climbing the social ladder."
Mia wasn't stupid. She knew there was no way to prove herself against gossip and slander.
Those words filled her with resentment.
She simply wasn't that kind of person. But what about Michael?
Would he, like those colleagues, secretly doubt her in his heart? She desperately wanted to leave this city right now.
And wasn't there a way right in front of her to solve everything in one go?
If she just went to the warehouse area and stole some antibiotics, all the problems would be solved.
The wonderful life with Mike was right there within reach!
