Karl exhaled sharply, his fingers twitching as they hovered over the screen. His mind raced through the implications of each name. Emily, Maria, Johnson… they were all thorns in his side, but Chillie Jean was right—he had to be strategic.
This wasn't about mindless revenge. This was about control.
And control required planning.
Karl locked his phone, shoving it into his pocket as he leaned back against his chair. The lingering echo of Chillie Jean's voice played in his mind, taunting yet undeniably compelling. She had exposed his hesitation, his desperation, and yet… she had also given him a valuable lesson.
He needed to think ahead.
He needed to optimize.
Copy-paste.
The idea hit him suddenly, like a lightbulb flickering to life in a dark room.
