The dimly lit conference room buzzed with low murmurs as the latest meeting of the company's board was underway. The large flat screens on the walls flickered to life, showing the faces of key figures—people from different branches, all having their say on their respective departments. The CEO, a man with sharp features and a glint of ruthless ambition, stood at the head of the table, his fingers lightly tapping against the polished surface, calling the meeting to order.
"Everyone, please focus. We need to get through these reports quickly," the CEO's voice echoed through the room, steady and commanding. His cold eyes swept across the executives. "Our progress is satisfactory, but there are... complications we must address. The spies."
At the mention of spies, a murmur of unease passed through the room. Each executive turned their attention to the CEO, eager to contribute their part. Some nodded gravely, others simply stewed in frustration. One of them, a stocky middle-aged man with a thick beard, leaned forward with a smirk on his face.
"Spies, huh? You all know about the guy we captured in District 7, right?" he said, his voice laced with dark amusement. "You should've seen it—had this poor bastard screaming for mercy after a few days in our custody. Turns out he was a scout for the opposition. The story goes, he tried to make a run for it, but he didn't last long. We had one of our operatives tailing him."
The man chuckled to himself. "He thought he could slip through our fingers, but he couldn't even handle basic surveillance. Stupid fool didn't know that we'd already placed eyes on him months before."
A younger executive with neatly combed hair frowned, folding his arms. "We need results, not stories," he muttered under his breath, but the stocky man ignored him, continuing his tale.
"It was a good catch, though. Had him cornered in an alley. All it took was a little persuasion, and he gave up everything. Turns out he wasn't just a scout—he was a courier carrying messages about our next big shipment. Could've cost us a lot if we hadn't caught him." He let out a satisfied chuckle.
A few of the others around the table exchanged uneasy glances, but one of the women in the room, tall and with piercing eyes, shook her head.
"I don't care about your stories. We need to focus on the bigger picture. The spies are from an organization trying to bring us down. And we still haven't figured out how they're infiltrating our operations."
She directed a steely gaze at the CEO, who remained unfazed. "We have intelligence that they're everywhere. We can't afford to waste time on half-baked reports."
The CEO leaned forward slightly, his sharp eyes narrowing. "You're right, of course. We don't have time to waste. But we also need to address the issue of how we'll deal with the rest of these spies."
Another executive, a gaunt man with a permanent sneer, scoffed. "You think we can just catch them all like the one in District 7?" He gave a dismissive wave. "I've got operatives at every corner, and still, we're getting picked off like rats. What do you want us to do, send everyone out on a goose chase?"
The CEO ignored the sarcasm, his eyes cold as ice. "No, but we need to get ahead of them. I want a plan that actually works, not just some lucky snatch and grab. How do we stop these infiltrations before they escalate?"
There was a brief silence. The conversation had hit a nerve, and some of the executives were starting to get impatient. The CEO was used to this by now—their frustrations didn't bother him.
One of the quieter executives, a woman with silver hair and sharp features, finally spoke up. "It's simple. You assign someone to track them down. We've got plenty of people who can deal with spies. We just need to focus our efforts."
A few heads nodded in agreement, but the stocky man who had started the conversation smirked again. "I don't know about you, but tracking spies in a city this big isn't like catching a rat in a trap. It's not that easy."
The quiet woman's expression hardened, but before she could reply, another voice cut through the room. It was the younger man from earlier, his voice edged with frustration.
"This is all pointless. You're all just bickering like children about who caught the biggest fish. It doesn't matter. What matters is finding them before they do more damage. Our priorities are all over the place."
The others turned their heads at the unexpected interruption. The younger man had been silent up until now, but when he spoke, it was clear that he had grown tired of the constant arguing. He was the type of person who preferred action over words.
"Exactly," he continued, looking directly at the CEO. "We can talk about spies all day, but we need to get on with the plan. That's the only thing that's going to stop them. We've wasted too much time already."
There was a brief moment of tension before the CEO sighed and rubbed his temples.
"You're right," he said, his voice dripping with irritation, but also a strange sense of agreement. "This is getting us nowhere. Fine. We'll continue with the plan. But we're going to make sure we're ready to track down every last one of them."
He glanced toward the back of the room, where a man with sharp eyes sat, who had been unusually quiet. "I've already assigned someone to handle the tracking. You'll get your report soon."
The quiet man, who had been sitting back in his chair, raised his head slightly. "Tracking's good, but if they're inside our ranks, then it's more complicated than just surveillance." He paused, his expression unreadable. "We need to go deeper. We need to be smarter than them. If they think they can outsmart us from within, they're mistaken."
There was a momentary pause, and then the room fell into a tense silence.
The CEO nodded, acknowledging the point, but there was a sense of unease hanging in the air. He could feel the dynamics shifting in the room—his control over these people was tenuous at best. Even his own position, though still strong, was increasingly in jeopardy.
"We'll discuss the details of the tracking operation tomorrow," the CEO finally said, his voice clipped. "In the meantime, I expect everyone to stay on top of their work. We'll be ready for them."
The others didn't respond immediately, but there was a feeling of simmering tension between them. Some of the executives had more power, more influence—others, like the quiet man, were clearly focused on something much larger.
The CEO was aware of all of it.
But he also knew one thing: only one person would walk away from this game alive. And it would be him.
As the meeting disbanded, the chatter died down, and the executives trickled out of the room, leaving the CEO to contemplate his next move. He stared at the empty chair where the quiet man had sat.
That one... was trouble.
But so were the spies.
Xian's days had become a repetitive cycle, one where the hum of machinery and the ticking of clocks marked the steady passage of time. He would fix, report, gather information, repeat. The monotony was his constant companion, and yet, it was a comfort. He had grown accustomed to the rhythm, the patterns, the little routines that made up his workdays.
But today, something was different.
Xian adjusted his worn-out cap, leaned back in his chair, and let out a sigh. "Maybe the next skill I'll get is acting," he joked silently to himself, his thoughts tinged with a dry humor. His skills had certainly improved since his arrival in Terra, but his ability to blend into the background, to slip past unnoticed, had reached new heights. In a place like this, where every corner could hold a pair of watchful eyes, that was a gift, a necessity.
It wasn't just the fixing or reporting that kept him busy; there were occasional opportunities to participate in the development of new technologies at the company's main building. He wasn't a lead engineer, far from it, but his quick thinking and growing knowledge had earned him some credibility. Sometimes, he would be called in to troubleshoot or assist with complex machinery. Today, though, it wasn't about fixing things; it was about gathering information.
Every three hours, someone would check their facilities, ensuring that everything was running smoothly, that nothing was amiss. Today, though, Xian had something specific in mind. It wasn't a normal checkup, not at all.
He had learned to be cautious, especially after almost getting caught during his last little venture into the heart of the company's operations. His heart had raced, his mind had raced even faster, and the near-miss had left him a little shaken. But it had also taught him a valuable lesson—he couldn't afford to be sloppy. Thanks to his newfound skill in appraisal, however, he was no longer just a silent observer. He could gather information far more efficiently now, parsing through data and interactions with an ease that made him almost feel like a ghost.
Xian entered the main compartment room two floors above his workroom, his every step measured and silent. The cold, sterile hallways were filled with the faint hum of machinery, the flickering of overhead lights. He avoided the security cameras with practiced precision, his movements so fluid they almost seemed choreographed. It had taken time, but now he knew how to navigate the building like the back of his hand.
His fingers danced over the keyboard of one of the computers, his eyes scanning the data. He accessed files, searched for discrepancies, and quietly took note of anything that looked suspicious. It was easy now, almost too easy. With his skill honed, Xian could skim through layers of security and find exactly what he needed. Today, he was lucky. He found errors—big ones—hidden deep within the system, errors that required high-level authorizations to fix. That was his ticket.
But luck was a double-edged sword, and Xian knew it. He couldn't afford to get greedy. He had what he needed. No time to waste.
"Alright, let's get out of here." He murmured under his breath, already moving away from the terminal.
But just as he turned to leave, he froze. Voices. They were coming from around the corner, muffled but unmistakable. He pressed himself against the wall, barely daring to breathe. The last thing he needed was to be caught now.
Two employees passed by, deep in conversation, oblivious to his presence. They spoke about something that caught his attention—something about a "suit project." But that was all he could gather. No details, no specifics. Just the word "suit." His mind raced with possibilities, but now wasn't the time to investigate further.
The footsteps receded, and Xian let out a quiet breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. He glanced at his watch—he had two minutes left. Only two minutes before someone would check on his section of the building. He had to move quickly.
Xian darted down the hallway, taking care to avoid the CCTV cameras, moving like a shadow. His footsteps were silent, but his heart beat faster with every passing second. When he reached the end of the corridor, he froze once more. There, just ahead, was the person who always checked them—their routine supervisor, someone who had become all too familiar to Xian. He knew that this man's routine would lead him to Xian's workroom next.
There was no time left to waste. No more room for subtlety. Xian's mind worked quickly, drawing on his knowledge and skills. With a swift motion, he modified his phone, activating a hidden function he had installed earlier. The device heated up, the air around it growing faintly warm. With a quick glance over his shoulder, he sprinted towards the workroom.
In a blur, Xian threw the phone toward a machine being built in one of the rooms—an unoccupied workroom, thankfully. The phone hit the machine, and in the blink of an eye, the device sparked. Smoke billowed from the machine, and a loud explosion rang out, echoing down the hallway.
Chaos erupted. The sound of the explosion caught everyone's attention, and the security personnel rushed toward the source. Xian didn't hesitate. He sprinted away from the scene, avoiding any direct line of sight, and ducked into another section of the building. The smoke from the explosion would cover his tracks, providing the perfect distraction.
But the most important thing was that he had a clear path to his workroom.
As he slipped into his workroom, Xian couldn't help but smile. His heart pounded in his chest, adrenaline coursing through his veins. He quickly put on his best act, nonchalantly exiting his workroom with a casual expression, just as if nothing had happened.
The employees who had witnessed the explosion were still busy checking the commotion, and a few of them turned to him. One of them raised an eyebrow, asking questions about the disturbance. Xian played it cool, offering vague answers and shrugging nonchalantly, as if he were just another worker caught up in the chaos.
The supervisor approached, his brow furrowed in suspicion, but before he could ask more, the other workers had already moved on to investigate the damage. They were too distracted by the explosion to focus on Xian's behavior.
Xian silently thanked the god of luck for his timely intervention. His plan had worked, barely.
As the smoke cleared and the chaos subsided, Xian allowed himself a brief moment of victory. His heart was still racing, but it wasn't over yet. The information he had gathered would take time to process, but for now, he had bought himself a little more time.
He let out a sigh and returned to his task, knowing that his act wasn't over. Not yet.