] "What did you achieve?" [
] "What did you gain?" [
The voice echoed in the darkness.
I couldn't see anything. There was no ground beneath my feet, no sky above my head. Just endless black.
Then the voice spoke again.
] "Do you desire another way?" [
] "Do you want to live?" [
Live?
A bitter laugh escaped my mouth.
"Who doesn't want to live?" I muttered into the darkness. "Even if life is hell, people still crawl forward. That's what humans do."
Silence followed.
For a moment, I thought the voice had disappeared.
Then—
SMACK!
A burning pain exploded across my cheek.
My eyes snapped open.
Bright white lights blinded me.
For a few seconds, my brain refused to work. My thoughts felt like wet paper—heavy and useless.
Slowly, the world began to return.
Fluorescent lights. Rows of cubicles.
The low humming sound of computers.
I was sitting at a desk.
No…Not just any desk.
My desk. The office I us.. worked in.
My head felt heavy as I lifted it.
And then I saw him.
Standing in front of me was a short, round man with a swollen red face. His belly stretched the buttons of his shirt, threatening to burst them open.
My boss.
No.
My manager.
He glared at me like a furious pig ready to charge.
"Did you complete that project?" he shouted.
His voice rang across the entire floor.
"You said it would take all night! And now I find you sleeping at your desk? Don't you feel any shame?!"
I stared at him.
My cheek still burned from the slap.
The words echoed in my head.
Did you complete your work?
You said it would take all night.
Don't you feel any shame?
Something about it felt… strange.
Familiar.
Too much familiar. Like I heard them before.
I looked directly into his small angry eyes.
A strange feeling crept into my chest.
A memory.
No… not a memory.
A dream.
In that dream—
I was standing here.
In this exact office. In this exact moment.
And the man in front of me…
Was lying on the floor.
Dead. Killed by me.
I blinked.
The image disappeared.
My head throbbed.
What… was that? Am I hallucinating?
"Are you listening to me?!" the manager roared.
I didn't respond. Instead, I slowly leaned back in my chair and looked at him carefully.
Fat. Sweaty. Balding.
I remembered something strange.
In that blurry memory—
I had killed him.
But why?
I tried to remember but my mind remained foggy.
Nothing came.
Still…
His words were exactly the same.
The tone. The expression. Everything.
It felt like I had already lived this moment before.
Then suddenly—
He raised his hand again.
"Useless brat!"
The slap came fast.
But this time—My body moved on its own.
I leaned back.The hand sliced through empty air.
The manager froze.
For a second, the entire office became silent.
Even I was surprised.
Did I just dodge that?
I hadn't even thought about it.
My body reacted instinctively.
Before the manager could shout again, another voice interrupted.
"Uncle, stop it." A calm young voice echoed from behind him. "We are in the company. As a manager, slapping an employee isn't appropriate."
I slowly turned my head.
Standing near the cubicles was a tall young man.
Slim body. Perfect posture. Clean blonde hair. Sharp jawline. And a gentle smile that fooled everyone.
Ah.
I knew him. Everyone knew him.
The youngest employee in the company.
Although, hardworking. Polite. Friendly. A perfect employee.
But I knew the truth.
At least… I thought I do now.
In my dream—Or memory—Or whatever that thing was…
He stole my project and submitted it under his name. I saw that in my dream.
Because of that, I beat him.
Then I push him from here , this office floor.
My eyes narrowed.
I looked at him carefully.
I glanced at the manager again. Then back to the young man. And suddenly something clicked.
"Ah," I muttered softly.
I almost forgot. The two of them were related.
The young man…Was the manager's nephew. No wonder he joined the company so easily.
Nepotism at its finest. I sighed and sat down again. Honestly, I was too tired to care. My head still felt heavy. My body felt slow. But one thought kept repeating in my mind.
Why does everything feel like it's repeating?
Was it a dream? Or something else?
I didn't know. But one thing was clear.
I didn't want to stay here again. Not with this miserable life.
If this really was my second chance…
Then I refused to waste it being a corporate dog again. I cracked my knuckles and began typing on the keyboard.
The manager frowned. "What are you doing?"
I ignored him. My fingers flew across the keys.
The young nephew's face turned even paler.
Interesting.
He seemed to guess exactly what I was doing. Within seconds, the screen went black.
Reboot.
The manager blinked.
"What did you just do?"
I leaned back in my chair and smiled. A wide, lazy smile.
"There." I stretched my arms. "The end."
The manager frowned. "The end of what?"
I stood up. "I'm resigning."
The office fell silent. The manager stared at me like I had just slapped him.
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me."
I grabbed my bag and slung it over my shoulder.
The manager's face turned red.
"Do you think this is your house?" he shouted. "Do you think this is a school? This is a company! A business! Until I approve your resignation you're not going anywhere!"
I shrugged.
He smirked. "Finish the project first." He pointed at the computer. "Complete it within an hour after the system starts again. I want it on my desk."
Normally… I would have done it.
If this were yesterday…Or any normal day… I would have agreed. I would work like a dog. Like a loyal dog wagging its tail before its master.
But today was different. Because today…I dreamt something. Something that told me that I am repeating it. So…
I smiled cheerfully."I already deleted it."
The manager blinked."What?"
"I deleted the project." I smiled again.
The nephew stepped forward quickly. "What do you mean, senior?"
His voice was shaking. I looked at him.
"I deleted everything."
His face turned completely white. The manager exploded. "You bastard!" he shouted. "How dare you?! Don't you want promotion?!"
I shrugged again. "No." That single word hit him harder than any insult. He opened his mouth, unable to speak.
I turned back to the computer. The system is on. My fingers tapped the keyboard one more time. A small notification appeared.
Mail Sent. My resignation letter. Straight to HR.
Truthfully, I had written that email months ago.
Actually… dozens of times. I had many versions saved. Different moods. Different levels of anger.
Today I finally used one. I picked up the last of my belongings.
A cheap mug. A notebook. And my phone. Then I started walking toward the exit.
"Where do you think you're going?!" the manager shouted.
"Home."
I didn't even bother turning around. Behind me, I could hear his heavy footsteps chasing after me.
But before he reached the elevator, two security guards blocked his path.
"Sir," one of them said politely, "HR wants to see you immediately."
The manager froze. His face twisted with rage.
I didn't stay to watch. The elevator doors closed with a soft ding. As the elevator descended, I felt something strange.
Relief. Pure, beautiful relief.
No deadlines. No bosses. No corporate nonsense. Just freedom. When the elevator doors opened, the morning sunlight poured inside.
Warm. Bright. Refreshing. I stepped outside the building. For the first time in years, I took a deep breath.
Ah! The air tasted different. Freedom always did. I stretched lazily. Now the real question was—
"What should I eat today?"
Biryani? No…Too heavy. Rice and fish?
Maybe chicken sounded good too.
Yes. Chicken. Today was definitely a celebration day. After all, I had just quit my job. The future was uncertain. I might get blacklisted by the industry.
But who cared? I had some savings. Maybe I'd start an online business. Or maybe I'd just sleep for a week.
That sounded even better. I chuckled to myself as I walked down the street. The sun was rising. A new day had begun.
After a whole night of overtime, finally I am taking a step out of my life.
And for the first time in my life— I felt like it actually belonged to me.