"On purpose? How exactly am I doing this on purpose? It's all clearly written in the finance regulations. You can argue all you want, but I'm not wrong. I've said my piece. Submit it or don't. Now get out of my office."

I was so angry I felt like I might have a heart attack.

I glared at Seymour for a long moment, but years of proper upbringing kept me from unleashing anything too ugly.

After a few seconds of thought, I picked up the reimbursement forms from his desk and pushed open the finance office door.

"Fine. You can stick to your rules. I'll go ask the boss right now whether these invoices qualify for reimbursement."

Seymour did not look the slightest bit nervous.

If anything, he looked amused.

"Go ahead. You think pulling the boss into this will scare me? Someone like you, a bottom-of-the-barrel sales rep, should've been kicked off the payroll long ago. I'd love to see whether the boss would offend the company's lifeline over a useless nobody like you."

Back at my desk, I pounded on my keyboard in a fury.

If you did not stand up for yourself when pushed to the brink, you'd be trampled on for the rest of your life.

The next second, I grabbed all my reimbursement forms and marched straight to the boss's office.

But before I could push the door open, I heard Seymour's voice from inside.

It was soft, nasal, and pitiful.

The kind of tone that suggested he suffered great injustice.

"Oh, you're here! Alex Morrison, perfect timing!"

I did not even open my mouth before the boss cut in, frowning.

"What's going on between you two? If there's a conflict, talk it out face-to-face. You're colleagues, after all."

Seymour's voice trembled.

"Ms. Harrington, I really didn't. It's just that, recently, our supervisor held a meeting and specifically told us we must strictly review every reimbursement. You know how finance works. We have to be extremely careful. But Alex seems to have misunderstood me."

He trailed off.

He looked utterly wronged.

I was so furious I felt like I might get a heart attack right then and there. I could not bear to watch his performance any longer.

I stepped forward and placed the reimbursement forms directly in front of the boss.

"Boss, I understand that the finance department needs to be rigorous. But please take a look. What exactly is wrong with my forms? I've already redone them according to Mr. Landon's requirements.

"I changed the pen, the paper, and even the writing format! And now he wants me to replace every single invoice."

Before I could finish, the boss slammed his palm down on the desk.

His expression turned dark.

"That's enough! I already know what happened. Alex, let me ask you: what did Mr. Landon do wrong? Tell me, which company doesn't require invoices to be complete and clean? And replacing invoices is hardly a big deal! Why are you so uncooperative? Are you perhaps using company funds for personal matters?"

In an instant, his suspicion hit me like a bucket of ice water dumped over my head.

In the workplace, nothing is more fatal than distrust.

Sales, especially, is a high-autonomy role that constantly hovers along gray lines.

If the boss started looking at me through tinted lenses from now on, what was the point of staying in this job?

Before I could even think of a response, the boss already turned to Seymour with a smile.

"Seymour did the right thing. This is how a company should operate: by following regulations. Finance is the lifeline of the company. It's only natural that he needs to be strict."

My boss, Jessica Harrington, announced, "Starting today, I'm giving you special authority. Any reimbursement that doesn't meet standards, just reject it. Send it back for revisions until it's qualified!

"And at the monthly meeting, you'll be this month's Star Employee. Don't forget to go on stage and give a speech!"

Seymour's eyes lit up instantly.

"T-Thank you! Thank you, Ms. Harrington! I'll definitely work even harder and live up to your encouragement!"

Jessica looked thoroughly pleased.

Then she turned and shot me another sharp glare.

"See that? You, salespeople, are nothing but parasites in this company. You're all lazy to the core! Why can't you learn something from him? You guys always nitpick over trivial matters, wasting company resources. Aren't you ashamed?

"That's enough! Reorganize your reimbursement forms according to Mr. Landon's requirements and get it done!"

My hands trembled as I clutched the stack of papers.

The frustration lodged in my chest had nowhere to go. It just sat there, crushing, until my tears nearly overflowed.

The moment I stepped out of the boss's office, Seymour slipped out right behind me.

He looked me up and down with open disdain.

"Hah! Didn't someone say they were going to ask the boss to judge? Well? Are you satisfied with the judgment?"

With a smirk, he added, "Useless trash. Let's see if you still dare to cross me."

I returned to my desk with red-rimmed eyes.

I was in no mood to work at all. I just stared blankly at the reimbursement forms.

Then my phone buzzed.

It was a notification from my social media app.

I was about to swipe it away until the headline caught my eye.

"That idiot in Sales. I just wanted to put my bar receipt under his name for reimbursement, and he refused! If he won't let me claim it, then no one gets reimbursed! This time, I'll make sure he understands what happens when you offend Finance!"

I froze.

I stared at the profile picture on the post, that awfully familiar face.

It was none other than Seymour himself!

Only then did everything click.

All those ridiculous obstacles these past weeks were not about professionalism or strict compliance; It was revenge!

Last month, he tried to put his bar receipt under my name for reimbursement. He wanted me to help him expense it under a client entertainment budget.

Naturally, I refused.

So, this was his payback.

The comment section was full of office workers venting, cursing this kind of petty workplace bullying.

But Seymour was gleeful, jumping into the comments to clap back one by one.

"What's there to fear? What even is Sales? Companies are permanent, but salespeople come and go. They're just disposable trash. Finance is different. Finance is the company's lifeline. There's no way the boss would side with some loser over the company's lifeline."

Then I noticed an update.

"That broke idiot's been fronting event expenses for half a month. Came in yelling about having no money today. So I'm holding his reimbursement hostage. Let's see how that fool manages to close any deals from now on."

I actually laughed.

Finance? The company's lifeline?

Then what was I, the top salesperson, supposed to be?

He did not want me to close deals? Fine by me.

I would have loved to see who loses patience first.

I set my work aside and started coasting. Every day, I sat at my desk doing the bare minimum.

Soon enough, it was the end of the month.

A message popped up in the company's office automation system, straight from the Finance Department.

With the month-end approaching, they needed to reconcile and log every single sales order.

And the source of those order files?

The Sales Department.

Modesty aside, as the undisputed top performer in the company, even though I only worked half the month, I accumulated quite a stack of orders in my hands.

In the past, I voluntarily worked overtime without pay, staying up late to prepare every document in advance, just so I would not disrupt finance's workflow.

But now?

Only a fool would repay resentment with kindness.

Another red, urgent notification popped up in the office automation system.

"The sales department must immediately organize all order documents. This concerns tax filings and other critical matters. Put aside all other tasks and handle this at once!"

The bold red letters and oversized exclamation mark made me laugh out loud.

Unhurried, I pulled out every single order from this month.

One by one, I checked them against my records. Then, following the Sales Submission Guidelines to the letter, I traced each document back to its source, verifying authenticity down to the smallest detail.

I was not in a rush, but someone else was.

Early the next morning, Seymour burst into the Sales office like a hound chasing prey.

He stormed straight toward me, fury written all over his face, and jabbed a finger at my nose.

"Alex, you bastard! You're doing this on purpose, aren't you? You know how important month-end order entry is, so you're deliberately holding the files back just to watch me take the fall! Who the hell do you think you're scaring? Let me tell you: if the boss finds out, the blame will land squarely on you, not me!"

I kept my eyes on the documents, unbothered, and let out a soft laugh.

"Oh? Is that so? Then don't be in such a hurry."

With that, I tossed the Sales Submission Guidelines onto the desk in front of him.

"Mr. Landon, I'm sure you'd understand, right? I was criticized by management before. So now, I'm simply following the guidelines to the letter. Someone as rigorous as you wouldn't hold that against me, would you?"

He opened his mouth but could not get a word out.

The look in his eyes, though, was pure venom.

After Seymour stormed off, I carried a thick stack of confirmation forms to the head of Finance.

"Mr. Ward, according to company procedure, I've compiled the total number of orders for this month. Once you verify them, please sign them off. After I get your signature, I'll personally visit each partner and review every single order."

I then added, "Don't worry. Once the verification is complete, I'll deliver everything to the Finance office immediately."

Harold Ward cut me off before I could finish.

"Alex, we can't do things like this! It's already the end of the month. Without those files entered, the company can't file taxes. This is a major issue! Special cases require special handling! Just give them to me now!"

I glanced at him, my expression unchanged.

"No. According to the Sales Submission Guidelines, month-end order files must go through these verification procedures. If something goes wrong, no one can shoulder that responsibility."

Harold was momentarily speechless.

In the end, he had no choice but to sign the forms and hand them back.

For the next three full days, aside from clocking in and out at the office morning and evening, I spent my time carrying the order files around to various client locations, taking my own sweet time.

Harold was practically on fire with anxiety.

He called me eighteen times a day, asking about progress.

Until the 28th of the month.

I just clocked in and was preparing to head out with the files when Harold showed up at my desk in person.