"I am the General Manager of Great Tech Industries! The name is Zhao Gang!"
The man with the slicked-back hair stood atop a slightly raised reception desk, waving his arms. He spoke with the same unquestionable authority he used during his corporate morning briefings. His voice boomed through the hollow hall, a forced layer of dignity barely masking the tremor beneath.
"We've all seen the situation. The doors are locked. Staying here is a death sentence!" Zhao shouted. "We cannot panic. We must consolidate our resources. From this moment on, I am taking command. Form two lines—men on the outside, women on the inside. We're moving to the east stairwell. If anyone breaks rank, don't blame me for being 'unprofessional'!"
In a collapse of order, people instinctively gravitate toward a loud voice. Zhao's corporate posturing successfully hooked more than half the room.
Ethan Chu remained in the shadows. He had seen this play a thousand times in the bloodless wars of the stock market. This "joint venture" was nothing more than a lead goat tricking the sheep into the slaughterhouse. Zhao wasn't leading; he was building a human meat shield. In a high-pressure environment, most people lose their ability to calculate risk, blindly following the loudest "Market Maker" into the abyss.
Ethan stared at the shadows above, his brain running a high-speed diagnostic. He noticed a flaw in the monster's programming: while its hearing was hyper-sensitive, it seemed to filter out consistent background noise. As long as a movement followed a specific rhythm—or coincided with the crashing of waves against the glass—the "program" wouldn't trigger. To Ethan, the creature wasn't a nightmare; it was a logic-driven surveillance routine.
"You! The kid in the jacket. Go scout the path! See if the stairwell door is locked!" Zhao pointed at a pale college student, his tone as sharp as a forced liquidation notice.
The student shivered. Under the weight of Zhao's glare and the "better him than me" stares of the crowd, he waded toward the east side. The splash-splash of his footsteps sounded like a countdown in the silence.
"The... the door is open! It's not locked!" the student hissed back, his voice thick with relief.
"Good. Move out, everyone. Keep it quiet!" Zhao's face lit up as he led the formation forward.
Disaster struck when they reached the center of the rotunda. A middle-aged woman slipped, her shoulder slamming into a metal trash can. A sharp CLANG rang out like a gunshot in the dead air.
CRASH!
The ventilation grate on the second floor was blown outward. Two Faceless Suits dropped like ghosts. They ignored the scout and lunged straight for the densest cluster of "liquidity"—the center of the pack, where Zhao was standing.
"Help! Get them off me!"
Zhao's authority evaporated instantly. As a monster's pale, featureless face neared his, his civilized veneer shattered, revealing a predatory instinct. He reached out and grabbed a white-haired old man standing next to him, violently jerking the man into the path of the beast.
"Agh!" The old man lost his balance, stumbling directly into the monster's kill zone.
As the man fell, a heavy canvas bag spilled open. Ethan caught a glimpse of a pair of heavy-duty wire cutters and a multimeter peeking out of the seams. Ethan's pulse spiked. An electrician. A senior-level technician.
In a skyscraper filled with electronic locks and complex power grids, a man who understood the "circuitry of the world" was a Blue-Chip Asset. To Ethan, this old man's life was worth more than Zhao and his entire "board of directors" combined.
This was the "Key" to the next level.
Saving Old Chen wasn't just about the bag; it was a refusal to accept the system's valuation of human life as mere collateral. In Ethan's eyes, Chen was a skilled craftsman—a partner worth the investment.
"Old Chen, hit the deck!"
Ethan roared, but he didn't charge in blindly. Even under extreme pressure, his mind remained a cold spreadsheet of cause and effect.
He grabbed a discarded fire extinguisher floating in the water. Timing it with the monster's turn, he hurled it with everything he had against a metal pillar on the far side of the hall.
CLANG!!!
The massive acoustic spike immediately hijacked the monsters' attention. They snapped their heads toward the source of the noise. In that momentary lag, Ethan blurred into motion, cutting through the water like a predatory shark.
He reached the old man just as the withered hands were about to lose their grip on the tool bag. Ethan clamped a hand onto the back of the man's neck, dragging him beneath the surface. Using the water as cover, he rolled them both into a semi-open power distribution room nearby.
SLAM!
Ethan kicked the heavy steel door shut and slammed the bolt home. Outside, the wet thud-thud-thud of the monsters slamming against the door vibrated through the steel. For now, the "trade" was closed. They were safe.
"Hah... hah..."
The old man slumped in the water, tears streaming down his face as he shook like a leaf. "Young man... you saved me... I almost... that bastard pushed me..."
He looked at Ethan with a gaze full of raw, unadulterated gratitude.
Ethan leaned against the door, his chest heaving, but his voice was as steady as a fixed interest rate. He placed a firm hand on the old man's shoulder. "Old Chen, listen to me. Zhao Gang wanted you to be a 'sunk cost.' I don't work that way. In this place, we regular people hold the line. Your skills are our capital."
Ethan locked eyes with him, his words carrying the weight of a blood-oath. "You want to live? Then from here on out, you follow my lead. I won't just get you to the 100th floor; I'll get you out of this building alive. That's my contract with you."
"I get it! Ethan, I'm with you! My life is yours," Chen wiped his face, clutching his tool bag with a newfound ferocity. "You tell me which door needs opening, and I'll tear the guts out of it!"
Ethan looked at the bag in the old man's arms, and the blueprints of his plan began to crystallize. The first critical investment was complete. He hadn't just secured a toolkit; he had secured a man's absolute loyalty.
Ethan pulled a flashlight from Chen's bag. A thin beam of light illuminated the floor plan on the wall.
The game had finally reached the stage where Ethan could place his bets.