Michael pulled the chair over and sat down, leaning forward slightly, his voice dropping to a near-whisper.

  He laid out his predicament, though deliberately omitting the part about selling goods:

  "Brother Wu, I'm really in a tight spot and need your help."

  "Oh? What's up? You're Manager Chen's favorite now, still need my help?"

  Gunnar raised an eyebrow, his gaze sweeping over the "Level 4 Sales Agent" badge on Michael's chest.

  "I want to learn combat from you."

  Michael got straight to the point, a note of urgency in his tone.

  "I know you used to fight in death matches. You have real skills."

  Gunnar's eyebrow quirked again.

  His eyes paused on Michael, as if assessing something, but he didn't hesitate in the slightest.

  "Fine."

  Just one word, so direct it made Michael falter for a second.

  Michael had prepared a whole speech, but hadn't expected Gunnar to agree so quickly.

  He hurriedly fished the thousand-G note from his pocket, sliding it gently across the table to Gunnar, his voice still low:

  "Brother Wu, take this 1000G, as a token of my appreciation.

  From now on, I'll come find you in the storage room during lunch breaks or after work to train.

  Won't interfere with your job."

  Gunnar was just as direct. He took the money, then fished a 500G note from his own pocket, pushing it back towards Michael.

  His tone was flat but carried a warmth that brooked no refusal:

  "Just helping out an old colleague. 1000 is too much."

  Michael was taken aback, instinctively wanting to refuse: "Brother Wu, this..."

  "Take it."

  Gunnar waved a hand, pointing at the badge on Michael's chest.

  "You're with Manager Chen now. Might need you to look out for us in the Eastern District in the future. Learning combat, huh? Friendship price."

  Michael's heart sank a little.

  He knew Gunnar was a good guy, but hadn't expected him to be this straightforward.

  What made him even more uneasy was—the rumors in the company, like an invisible net, were quietly draping over his head.

  Recently, the whole Eastern District had been whispering that Michael had suddenly caught Elena's eye, getting promoted two levels.

  There had to be some serious background, they said.

  He'd struck a huge stroke of luck.

  Gunnar had always treated him decently, but this current enthusiasm was clearly more pronounced.

  Michael wasn't stupid. He could see it.

  "Well... I won't stand on ceremony then."

  Michael hesitated for a moment, then with a smile, pocketed the 500G.

  Gunnar stood up, brushing the dust off his pants, his gaze sweeping outside the window.

  "Let's go practice a couple of rounds on the vacant lot downstairs, as a warm-up. We'll grab lunch after."

  "Now?" Michael was surprised.

  "Yep, now."

  ......

  The two made their way to the secluded empty lot behind the company.

  A few abandoned shipping containers were piled up there.

  It was usually deserted, a natural hiding spot.

  "Come on."

  Gunnar took a stance in the open area, beckoning him over.

  "Don't be nervous. I'll walk you through the basics first. You've got decent physique, a good foundation. You'll learn fast."

  Following Gunnar's instructions, he repeated the movements over and over, from the most basic footwork to simple offensive and defensive stances.

  The power within his body, altered by Yang Chen, gradually became more structured, more directed under Gunnar's guidance.

  The training session wasn't long.

  But Michael felt he had gained a lot.

  Back at the company cafeteria, he didn't see Mia.

  He didn't think much of it, paid for the meal, ate with Gunnar, then returned to the Western District to continue working.

  He went straight to Mia's workstation, already thinking about how to bring up living together as he walked.

  "Mia, got a moment? Want to talk to you about something."

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  His voice was soft, carrying a hint of barely concealed eagerness, a secret anticipation for their future life together.

  Mia's fingers froze abruptly. The pen tip scratched a harsh line across the report.

  She didn't look up, just pushed a stack of files to the corner of the desk, her tone as cold as the gray sky outside the window:

  "No time. I haven't finished the reports yet. Need to check the list for the afternoon's errands too."

  Michael's words caught in his throat.

  That flicker of eagerness was instantly extinguished.

  He looked at the hair falling over her face, at her deliberately averted gaze.

  Something seemed to squeeze gently in his chest.

  Michael was baffled at first, but immediately understood.

  During the two days Yang Chen had taken over, he must have completely ignored Mia. She had mentioned it before lunch.

  Forget it. It wasn't appropriate to argue in the office during work hours.

  He silently walked back to his own workstation.

  Just as he sat down, he couldn't help but glance up at the opposite desk.

  Mia remained buried in the reports, not once looking in his direction.

  Habitually, he pushed the water cup on his desk to the corner, the spot where Mia usually left water. Today, it remained empty.

  No matter how busy work was, she would always find a moment to come over, either to place a cup of warm water on his desk or to stand behind him pretending to organize files, quietly chatting for a few words.

  But this afternoon, it was as if she hadn't noticed his existence at all, not a single sound.

  Michael's heart felt like a piece had been suddenly hollowed out, leaving an emptiness.

  He remembered that his escape plan was fundamentally tied to her.

  From the goal of saving 100,000G to the determination to flee Ivy Corp, every step was to secure a stable future for both of them.

  His grip on the water cup tightened slightly, fingertips turning cold.

  The casual interactions he had taken for granted now felt like stabbing blanks, making it hard to even focus on work.

  The office bustle seemed separated by an invisible barrier.

  Only the hollowness in his heart remained, starkly out of place amidst the surrounding liveliness.

  There was still half an hour before clocking out, but Michael was already restless.

  Usually, Mia would linger until the last minute before packing up, with the excuse that "office work isn't that urgent," but really to wait and walk home with him.

  But today, the moment the clock chimed, she neatly closed her notebook, grabbed her canvas bag, and made to leave.

  Michael's heart sank heavily. Leaving early? Fine! He'd leave early too!

  Without further thought, he pushed his chair back and left his station.

  He hurried downstairs.

  Just as he stepped out the company door, he saw Mia standing by the roadside waiting for the steam bus, an almost resolute coldness on her face.

  "Mia, wait."

  Michael quickly caught up, a trace of barely perceptible panic in his voice.

  But Mia acted as if she hadn't heard.

  Instead, she simply left the bus stop, her footsteps tapping sharply on the ground.

  "I know you're upset today," Michael followed behind her, his voice soft. "But don't be like this, I—"

  "Stop following me."

  Mia stopped abruptly, turning around.

  Her eyes held clear displeasure, her voice laced with frost:

  "Michael, you're just tired of me. Let me tell you, I'm not that stupid. I know!"

  Michael, at this point, couldn't care about the Ivy Corp colleagues watching the show nearby.

  His heart felt clenched by something. He opened his mouth to explain, but was cut off by Mia's next move.

  She turned and walked away, her skirt brushing the ground, stirring a small breeze.

  "Mia!"

  Michael urgently grabbed her wrist, his fingertips cold. "Listen to me, I didn't mean to ignore you. I have my reasons..."