Scott stood before the mirror for one last inspection of his tie.
The man reflected back at him was immaculately dressed: suit pressed to perfection, shoes polished to a mirror shine, every strand of hair combed into place.
Satisfied, he tugged at the corners of his mouth and let a confident smile settle on his face.
The invitation card, embossed with the gold logo of the Interastral Peace Corporation, lay squarely on the desk before him.
"Mr. Scott, Senior Specialist of the Market Development Division, is cordially invited to attend an important meeting at the Board of Directors Conference Room on the 137th floor of the Corporate Headquarters, tomorrow at ten o'clock in the morning."
The Chairman's crimson seal marked the bottom of the card.
"An important meeting."
Scott murmured the words softly, and the smile on his lips deepened.
He knew this routine all too well.
An invitation to the 137th floor of headquarters, the domain of the Board of Directors, the very nerve center of power within the entire Interastral Peace Corporation.
The only people who ever set foot up there were either unlucky souls about to be called to account, or fortunate ones about to be promoted and rewarded.
And he, Scott, what had he accomplished lately?
He had successfully dismantled several promising rival studios, clearing the path for the company's market dominance. He had zeroed in on the breakout hit game Honkai Impact 3rd and was executing a flawless campaign to strangle its public image.
He had made that presumptuous little studio, Under the Stellar Sky, feel once again what it meant to face the iron fist of capital.
Results. Concrete, undeniable results.
Those old fossils on the Board had finally recognized his worth.
He cleared his throat and turned to face the cluster of subordinates watching him with eager, expectant eyes.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Scott's voice was measured, carrying the unhurried ease of someone who no longer needed to prove himself. "Headquarters has summoned me. I'll be heading over."
A chorus of gasps and flattery erupted through the office instantly.
"Mr. Scott! So it's really happening, you're getting promoted!"
"I knew it! With your abilities, you should've been in headquarters ages ago!"
"Congratulations, congratulations! Mr. Scott, once you've made it big, don't forget us old subordinates!"
A round-faced middle-aged man edged forward, his face arranged into a broad, practiced smile. "Mr. Scott, at the very least you'll be walking out as a Director, right? Maybe you'll go straight into the core decision-making team of the Market Development Division!"
A younger employee chimed in, eyes bright with excitement. "You've run the Ninth District so well all these years, headquarters must have had their eyes on you. This summons has got to be recognition for everything you've done!"
Scott raised a hand, signaling for quiet.
"Enough," he said lightly, his tone carrying a hint of magnanimous condescension. "Nothing's been confirmed. Don't go reading into things."
But the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth refused to stay hidden.
"That said..."
He paused, letting his gaze sweep slowly across every face in the room before settling on the team leader in charge of the public opinion campaign against Honkai Impact 3rd.
"Your work doesn't stop while I'm away. That studio, Under the Stellar Sky, needs to be flattened completely. I want to see their player base hemorrhaging. I want to see them crying out on social media, begging for mercy."
"Understood!"
The team leader straightened, puffing out his chest.
"Mr. Scott, rest assured. The second wave of operatives is already in position, and we're launching a new offensive tonight.
This time we've prepared heavier ammunition: anonymous tips suggesting Arthur, their lead, has been exploiting employees, and fabricated exposés of Kiana, the heiress, abusing her status. We'll make sure they can't crawl back up."
"Good." Scott nodded with approval. "By the time I'm back from headquarters, I expect to see a report telling me they're on their knees, begging to be acquired."
He gave his suit one last straightening tug, picked up the invitation, and walked toward the door.
Behind him, a wave of send-offs and well-wishes followed him out.
"Take care, Mr. Scott!"
"Safe travels!"
"Don't forget to invite us to your promotion dinner!"
Scott didn't look back. He simply raised his hand in a casual wave as he went.
The gesture already carried the unhurried poise of a man who belonged in the upper floors.
The office door fell shut behind him.
In the corridor, his leather shoes struck the floor in crisp, steady rhythm.
That rhythm carried him forward, through the open-plan office, past glances that held admiration or envy in equal measure, past the murmured conversations that dropped in volume as he passed, until he stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the ground floor.
The elevator doors slid shut, sealing away the world outside.
In the polished steel of the elevator walls, Scott's face looked back at him.
Confident. Composed. Flushed with the satisfaction of a man who has finally arrived.
He studied his own reflection and found himself thinking, briefly, of the version of himself who had spent years clawing upward from the bottom.
He, Scott, was finally about to walk through that door.
The elevator descended smoothly, while his spirits soared in the opposite direction.
What he didn't know was that at that very moment, deep inside the servers of the Under the Stellar Sky studio, Bronya had finished compiling a complete, meticulously assembled chain of evidence documenting every one of his operations.
It had already been packaged and sent to three separate inboxes: the Legal Department of the Schicksal Group, the Strategic Investment Division of the Anti-Entropy Group, and the inbox of a certain department head who, as it happened, was currently overseeing investigations into cybercrime.
He didn't know that at that same moment, in Principal Theresa's office, Rita had just ended a phone call with the Anti-Entropy Group.
Two old rivals who had spent twenty years locked in competition had, for the first time, reached a quiet, unspoken agreement to set aside their differences and face a common enemy together.
And he certainly didn't know that at the very instant he stepped into that elevator, inside Elysia's streaming channel, Elysia's fans and Eden were organizing a counteroffensive of unprecedented scale.
The genuine voices of real players, buried beneath the flood of coordinated attacks, were about to surge back, ten times over, a hundred times over.
The elevator continued its descent.
Scott watched himself in the mirrored walls, picturing the promotion and the raise that were almost within reach.
He pictured Arthur, that young upstart, kneeling and begging for mercy, and the smile curving his lips grew wider and wider.
He didn't know. He didn't know any of it.
The elevator came to a stop at the ground floor. The doors opened slowly.
He strode out, chin up, shoulders back, heading toward what he was certain was the promotion he deserved.