Chapter 1


    Daniel Orz clenched his fists beneath the desk as Leo Zam’s voice echoed through the small, sterile office. The sharp accusations felt like shards of glass, each word splintering the confidence he had spent the past years building. The words didn''t make sense — he knew he hadn''t made those mistakes. And yet, Leo''s glare bore into him, as though he were guilty by default.


    Once, Daniel had admired Leo. He had seen him as a beacon of experience, someone who led with authority and fairness. But now, that admiration had crumbled into dust, swept away by the torrent of unwarranted blame. The respect he once held had vanished, replaced by a simmering resentment that coiled tightly within his chest.


    Leo paused, breathing heavily, his face contorted with frustration. The silence in the room was suffocating, but Daniel refused to speak. Anything he said now would be twisted, he knew. His jaw tightened. The walls of the office, once a space of professional growth, now felt like a prison cell.


    As Leo dismissed him with a wave, Daniel rose, his movements mechanical. He left the office without a word, his mind a swirling storm of indignation. The fluorescent lights of the corridor buzzed above him, but all he could hear was the dull roar of his own thoughts.


    Something had changed today. Something irreversible.


    The door clicked shut behind him, and Daniel knew one thing for certain — the respect he had lost for Leo could never be regained.


    Daniel''s once-prized dream job now felt like a cruel joke. The glow of achievement he''d felt when he first walked through the office doors had long since faded, replaced by an oppressive grayness that seeped into every moment of his day. Each keystroke, every line of code he typed as an IT technician, felt heavy, devoid of the joy he used to find in solving complex technical problems. His passion, once so vibrant, was slowly being smothered.


    When he first approached his supervisor, he''d held on to a shred of hope — hope that someone would recognize the unfairness, that someone would stop Leo''s unwarranted tirades. But when the supervisor brushed his concerns aside with an indifferent shrug, something cracked inside him. The betrayal wasn''t just from Leo anymore; it was from the very system he worked for, a system that was supposed to protect him but instead left him stranded.


    The resentment grew like a bitter root, spreading until it poisoned everything. The once-familiar hum of the servers became an irritant. The bright screens, a source of constant strain. Every interaction with his coworkers felt like a performance, masking the frustration boiling beneath the surface.


    He spent evenings scouring job boards, his eyes blurring as he submitted application after application. Each rejection email stung more than the last, tightening the trap he felt caught in. Six months of futile searching weighed on him, a grim reminder that escape wasn''t as simple as he''d hoped.


    Daniel’s mornings became a struggle against dread, the simple act of getting out of bed a battle he barely won each day. The walls of his office cubicle felt smaller now, closing in on him. His once-clear vision of a future filled with purpose and achievement was now clouded by doubt and exhaustion.


    But deep within the fog of his discontent, a quiet determination flickered. He couldn’t stay here forever. There had to be a way out, even if he hadn’t found it yet. And until he did, he clung to that fragile hope, believing that one day he would break free, that one day he would work in a place where his talents were valued, not crushed.


    For now, he endured — but he refused to let this place define his worth.


    One day, he was sitting infront of his workstation, doing an evaluation report.


    The click of the mouse was the only sound in Daniel''s section as he wrapped up his evaluation report. The low hum of the computers was strangely soothing, a brief respite from the storm that often brewed in his mind. He was just about to stand and stretch when he saw Leo Zam striding towards him, the familiar scowl carved into his face.


    Daniel’s stomach tightened. The office was empty save for him, his coworkers having stepped out for a break, and his supervisor conveniently nowhere to be seen. He was alone, trapped in the crosshairs of Leo’s irritation.


    Leo stopped at his desk, his eyes narrowed, jaw clenched. “Daniel,” he began, his tone biting, “have the new computers been set up for the board members?”


    Daniel blinked, confusion flashing across his face. He hadn’t been told anything about new computers. He searched his memory, hoping he’d missed some communication, but there was nothing.


    “I don’t know anything about that, sir,” Daniel answered carefully, trying to keep his voice steady.


    Leo’s eyes darkened, his nostrils flaring. The silence between them stretched painfully, thick with tension. Then, Leo’s voice cracked like a whip.


    “Of course you don’t!” he snapped, his lip curling in disdain. “What do you even do around here? You and your whole section just sit on your hands while the rest of us have to pick up the slack!”


    The words stung, each syllable like a slap to the face. Daniel felt his pulse quicken, heat rushing to his cheeks. He swallowed hard, the lump in his throat making it difficult to breathe. His mind raced, grasping for a defense, for a justification — but what was the point? He knew Leo didn’t want an explanation. He wanted a target, and Daniel was right there.Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!


    A bitter, metallic taste filled his mouth. He clenched his jaw, fighting the urge to fire back, to tell Leo how tirelessly he worked, how much he gave to this place despite the miserable conditions. But he held his tongue. Speaking up had never worked before; it would only fuel Leo''s anger further.


    Leo leaned closer, his voice a low, contemptuous hiss. “Maybe if you spent less time pretending to work and more time actually doing something useful, you wouldn’t be such a disappointment.”


    Without waiting for a response, Leo turned on his heel and stormed off, leaving a trail of simmering resentment in his wake.


    Daniel’s hands trembled as he stared at his screen. The cursor blinked back at him, indifferent to his turmoil. The room felt colder, smaller. He closed his eyes and took a shaky breath, but it wasn’t enough to quiet the storm inside him.


    The resentment that had smoldered for months flared into something sharper, something closer to rage. This wasn’t just frustration anymore. It was a breaking point.


    He couldn''t stay here. He wouldn’t stay here.


    As the sound of Leo’s footsteps faded down the hall, Daniel’s resolve solidified. If no one else would change his situation, he would have to find a way to change it himself.


    Even if it took everything he had.


    The door creaked softly as Daniel''s supervisor, Ray Brown slipped back into the section, his expression neutral as he settled into his chair and focused on his screen. The quiet resumed, the ambient noise of the office crawling back like a low tide. Daniel glanced at Ray, his own thoughts a swirling vortex of frustration and confusion. He bit the inside of his cheek, holding back the urge to vent about what had just happened. There was no point — he knew how that conversation would end.


    Just as Daniel forced his attention back to his work, Leo’s familiar figure loomed in the doorway once again. The room tensed. Daniel''s breath caught in his chest, his shoulders tightening instinctively as he braced for another confrontation. But Leo’s eyes skipped over him and landed on Ray instead.


    “Ray,” Leo said, his voice a stark contrast to the anger he''d unleashed moments ago. It was soft, measured. Almost friendly. “About those new computers for the board — any update?”


    Ray swiveled his chair slightly and leaned back. “Yeah, it’ll take at least two more days to get them set up. We’re waiting on a few configurations.”


    Leo nodded, his face relaxed, the annoyance completely gone. “Alright, sounds good. Thanks for the update, Ray.” His tone was warm, appreciative, as though he were speaking to an old friend. He turned on his heel and walked out, the door closing gently behind him.


    Daniel sat frozen, disbelief pooling in his chest. His mind replayed the scene over and over. The same question echoed louder each time: Why? Why was Leo so calm, so respectful with Ray, when just minutes ago he had berated Daniel with venomous accusations?


    His jaw clenched so hard it hurt. The disparity, the blatant unfairness of it, gnawed at him. His resentment crystallized, sharp and heavy. It wasn''t just about Leo''s anger anymore. It was the realization that Leo chose to direct that anger at him — and not at Ray. The favoritism, the double standard, was undeniable.


    He wondered if it was something about him, something he couldn''t see. Was it his demeanor? His approach? Was he too easy of a target? The questions piled up like a weight on his chest, suffocating him with doubt and frustration.


    The hum of Ray’s typing filled the silence, a cruel reminder of the chasm between how Leo treated them. Daniel’s fingers hovered over his keyboard, the will to continue working slipping away.


    In that moment, he knew the resentment he felt for Leo was now spreading to the entire system, the office, the hierarchy that enabled this kind of treatment. His dream job had become a nightmare, and each day he stayed was a reminder that he was trapped — for now.


    But a new thought bubbled up beneath the anger, a fragile thread of determination. He might be stuck here for the moment, but he wouldn''t let them break him. Not completely. Not forever.


    Daniel took a deep breath, his eyes narrowing slightly. If they wouldn’t respect him, he’d find a way to respect himself — even if it meant walking away one day, on his own terms.


    Two days after the incident, Daniel was working on an upload to the website. Daniel''s fingers hovered over the keyboard, the cursor blinking on his screen as the weight of Leo''s presence hung in the air. Graham Bobber, seated beside him, seemed unfazed by Leo’s arrival, his usual relaxed demeanor unchanged.


    Leo''s eyes flicked toward Daniel, the same cold, disapproving glare that had become all too familiar. That brief, disdainful glance stung more than words could. Daniel felt his jaw tighten, his frustration bubbling just beneath the surface. But this time, he wasn’t the target.


    Leo walked over to Graham, his expression softening like melting ice. “Hey, Graham,” he said, his voice smooth and warm, “how’s the setup going for the board members’ computers?”


    Graham leaned back slightly, rubbing his chin. “Not done yet, Leo. We’re still finalizing the configurations. Might need a bit more time.”


    To Daniel’s astonishment, Leo simply nodded, his face calm and understanding. “Alright, no problem. Just try to get them done as soon as you can, yeah? The board’s eager to have them.”


    “Will do,” Graham replied with a casual smile.


    Leo patted Graham’s shoulder lightly, offered a small grin, and then walked out of the section without another word.


    The door closed behind him with a soft click, but the silence left behind felt deafening. Daniel’s eyes remained fixed on his screen, though he wasn’t seeing anything. His thoughts were a tangled mess of confusion, resentment, and bitter disbelief.


    Why? The question screamed through his mind. Why did Leo’s voice soften for Graham, for Ray, for everyone but him? Why was he the one who got the glares, the accusations, the unfiltered anger? Was it something about his work? His demeanor? Was he just an easy scapegoat?


    He could feel the frustration tightening in his chest, a lead weight pressing down on him. His hands curled into fists on the desk, knuckles whitening.


    “Hey, you good?” Graham’s voice broke through his thoughts, light and unbothered.


    Daniel forced a tight smile, swallowing the lump in his throat. “Yeah, I’m fine.”


    But he wasn’t. Every part of him burned with the unfairness of it. He’d given his best to this job, worked just as hard as anyone else — sometimes harder — and yet, it was like Leo only saw him as a failure, a punching bag for his frustrations.


    The anger that simmered within him now had a razor-sharp edge. He wasn’t just upset with Leo anymore; he was furious with the entire toxic environment that allowed this to happen. The favoritism, the double standards, the way his hard work went unnoticed while his mistakes, real or imagined, were amplified.