To ensure the launch of the company's new game, I worked overtime for a week straight. I practically lived at the company.

But on the day of the celebration, I received a punishment notice from the new VP.

"A certain someone has been working overtime until past midnight for over a week. This is a waste of the company's electricity. This notification is to inform him that he needs to pay this month's electricity bill for the company."

The superior whom I worked with ever since this company was founded suddenly became arrogant as well.

"A certain someone really needs to know their place. You're already 35. It's not like the company can't run without you. You're the one who relies on this company now."

I laughed angrily.

Had he forgotten what I did for a living?

I submitted my resignation on that very same day. I'd like to see who would be the desperate party in the end.

They could forget about ever being listed if this was how they treated their loyal employees.

After working all-nighters for a full week, the company's new game was finally launched successfully.

Seeing the flood of positive reviews online, the other four team members and I finally breathed a sigh of relief.

"The new VP said we're having a celebration at lunchtime today, everyone in the company will be there, so let's wash up and head over now," someone said.

Everyone cheered.

Westley, who sat next to me, rubbed his neck and turned to me with a smile.

"Jane, with so many players online and such high frame rates, the game still ran smoothly—it was all thanks to the servers you built."

"If you ask me, your servers are even more stable than those used by the largest industries in this industry."

"That's why Ms. Lawson is the lifeline of our operations department," another colleague chimed in.

"The general manager even emphasized before that Jane's the only person in this company who should absolutely not be mistreated."

Everyone began flattering me one after another.

I waved modestly while still staring at the rapidly changing backend data and typing to patch another loophole.

When I stood up, I noticed that Jennifer Shaw, who was also sitting beside me, looked pale and was sweating lightly.

She was 24 weeks into her pregnancy, and in order not to delay the project, she had been forcing herself to work overtime with us for 2 weeks.

She had clearly reached her physical limit.

I hurriedly helped her lie down on the sofa and told her to go home when she was feeling a little better and rest instead of attending the celebration.

She nodded gratefully.

The remaining four of us washed our faces quickly and took a cab to the hotel.

On the way, the three younger teammates excitedly discussed how they would spend their bonus.

I couldn't help but smile and felt quite relaxed.

My phone buzzed—it was a group chat notification for work.

"This must be the reward notice for our team," someone said excitedly.

Everyone eagerly took out their phones.

I opened the message and froze instantly.

The notice accused us of wasting electricity by working overtime late into the night and demanded that we pay the company's electricity bill for that month.

The car fell into a strange silence.

Someone stammered, "What's the meaning of this?"

"We worked our asses off for the company, and they decide to charge us for working overtime?"

I was completely stunned, then furious.

When the car stopped at the hotel, I pushed open the private room door with a dark expression on my face.

I walked straight through the crowd and slammed my phone onto the VP's face.

"What's the meaning of this announcement?"

The room had been full of people listening to the VP, Mr. Foster, boast about the future.

My sudden intrusion shattered the harmonious atmosphere.

Mr. Foster glanced at the phone and quickly regained his superior expression.

He said the announcement was already very clear.

He claimed that staying in the company outside working hours caused a waste of resources that employees should bear themselves.

“The company isn’t a free hotel, and neither are we your parents. We don’t take freeloaders,” he said.

I laughed angrily. “We worked overtime and did all-nighters to help the company save costs. We brought the launch date forward by two months, and you call us freeloaders?”

I pointed out that a pregnant employee had nearly collapsed.

“It’s exactly because of what you’ve accomplished that we went easy on you with the punishment. You’ve been occupying company resources without permission and should have been fined half of your monthly wages. But because you’ve brought forward the launch date of the new game, we decided to just give you a little punishment by paying the electricity bill this month.”

At that moment, my anger turned into calm.

I immediately called the CEO, Ian Yates.

The call was repeatedly hung up.

Mr. Foster said smugly, “Don’t bother. It’s Mr. Yates’ decision as well.”

I felt as if cold water had been poured over my head.

I realized they were using overtime as an excuse to kick me out and monopolize the achievement.

Seeing that I failed to contact Ian, Mr. Foster became even more smug.

He mocked, “So what if you founded this company with Mr. Yates? The company is about to be listed, and it has multiple branches as well. Mr. Yates is already way out of your reach. You’re just a technical director at one of the branches, that’s all. Who do you think you are? You’re just a 35-year-old woman who only knows how to type code. You’d better know your place. You’re the one who can’t survive without the company and not the other way around!”

I trembled with rage as I stared Mr. Foster in the eyes.

The latter sat there with a big belly and fancy clothes. He squinted his eyes as he looked at me slyly.

My colleagues and I were all wearing dirty clothes and had dark circles around our eyes. We were practically a mess.

Other colleagues started pointing fingers at us and laughing mockingly.

This made us look like clowns.

I continued to call Ian, but he kept declining my calls.

I took a deep breath to calm myself down. Then I stopped calling Ian.

After that, I logged on to the company’s system in front of everyone and submitted my resignation.

It was approved almost instantly.

When I saw Ian approving instantly, I couldn’t help but laugh.

I was laughing at myself for being so stupid and wasting 15 years of my life.

I was also laughing at myself because I failed to see a person’s true colors.

I nearly cried in the end, but I forced back the tears.

Such a company was not worth my tears.

I took another deep breath before turning on my heels and leaving the private room.

Since the company decided to be heartless, I would do the same.

It was time to settle the scores between us.

To prevent me from taking anything important—and also just to disgust me—Mr. Foster had assigned a newly arrived intern to watch me as I returned to the company to pack up my things.

On the workstation, sheets of A4 paper printed with all kinds of requirements from the clients.

In a disposable paper cup at the corner of the desk was instant coffee that had already gone cold.

Everything testified to a week of working day and night, yet in such a short time, everything had completely changed.

The tip of my nose stung again, so I rubbed it hard and blinked a couple of times.

On the screen, the backend user data was still constantly jumping, with several places flashing error alerts.

I only watched coldly, with no intention whatsoever of stepping in to fix anything.

None of this had anything to do with me anymore.

I packed up my own belongings and counted out each piece of company equipment, lining them up neatly on the desk.

Finally, without the slightest hesitation, I reached out, unplugged a portable hard drive that had been connected to the main unit for fifteen years, and stuffed it into my pocket.

The intern panicked instantly, his whole body going stiff, and he asid with a trembling voice, “Jane...”

I calmly met his gaze.

“This hard drive contains a server that I built and developed myself. It is my personal property and has nothing to do with the company.”

The intern looked utterly stunned. His lips moved slightly, but in the end he lowered his head and did not try to stop me again.

As we brushed past each other, I saw his fingers trembling as he pulled out his phone and logged into the company system. The screen looked like the resignation application page.

I could not help but curve my lips into a smile.

No wonder people said that fresh brains were quick and sharp.

The biggest highlight of our current games company was that it could run high-definition games smoothly and steadily, and all of this relied on the server I had built with my own hands.

No matter how explosively the number of users increased, my server never lagged or crashed and always ran smoothly.

This was something many major game companies found difficult to achieve.

Because my technology provided solid backing, the company’s focus in recent years had been on pursuing more refined visuals in casual games, as well as shooting and combat games that demanded extremely high precision, all in the aim of giving players a more perfect, ultimate experience.

But they had forgotten that all that refinement and sophistication depended on the server platform I had built—that it was me, constantly watching the backend, almost online around the clock, predicting and diverting traffic, applying patches in time, and solving every problem before they happened.

Without me, everything in the company became a castle in the air, a tree without roots.

As I signed the paper resignation certificate with HR, my thoughts wandered off.

In recent years, the company had become bigger and bigger, and was about to go public, yet in the past two events it had been overshadowed by another newly risen company called the Conquest Group.

The Conquest Group’s server technology was far inferior to mine, so they had changed strategies, no longer pursuing high frame rates and graphics but instead innovating in gameplay, which had also attracted countless fans.

The two companies had been secretly competing with each other all along, and when they learned that the Conquest Group was about to launch a new game, our company immediately made a decision to hold an offline selection tournament for its oldest competitive game on the same day.

The company had built up hype months in advance and cranked the graphics to the highest settings, wanting to thoroughly crush the rival company.

Calculating the timing, when I unplugged the server, it should have been right around the time of the finals. If it had been before, I would definitely have watched the entire time, afraid that even the slightest mishap would embarrass the company.

But now, what the hell did it have to do with me?

I shrugged and flung those thoughts out of my head.

After confirming with HR that all compensation would be directly transferred to my account, I logged into my work phone one last time, left all work group chats, and deactivated my work account.

After thinking it over, I simply removed the SIM card from the work phone, snapped it in half, and threw it away.

Since I had resigned, I might as well sever ties completely. The company had better hold on and not come looking for me again.

As I left the company lobby, I took off the badge on my chest and casually tossed it into the trash.

Weren’t they in a hurry to maintain client relations? Well, the CEO could handle things personally now.