Chapter 8: Let Some Get Rich First
1083 Words
Without another word to Abigail, Aaron strode back to his workstation, the sleek phone box tucked under his arm, his posture radiating confidence.
Though he didn’t turn around, he could *feel* the weight of the two girls’ gazes burning into his back—undoubtedly a mix of envy and resentment.
Amanda’s eyes might even hold a flicker of admiration.
After all, in this company, how many could afford a phone that cost over ten grand?
Even the customer service manager had only sprung for the base-model iPhone X—a mere 64GB.
Compared to Aaron’s top-tier version? A full thousand dollars cheaper.
……
As he walked, Aaron couldn’t help but revel in the sensation.
*This* was what it felt like to have money.
No more settling for basic burgers—he could order the deluxe combo without a second thought.
No more squeezing onto crowded subways—he could hail a cab whenever he pleased.
And phones? Only the best, most premium version would do.
A full wallet meant unshakable confidence, and it showed in every step he took.
Before, he’d moved through the office with hushed footsteps, head slightly bowed, forcing a polite smile whenever he passed a colleague.
Now? He walked like he owned the place—chin up, shoulders back, offering nothing more than a casual nod in greeting.
*This* was the power of self-assurance.
……
By the time he reached his desk, Alice—the customer service supervisor who’d defended him in the Whats'Y'App group—was already seated at hers.
Only Abigail’s workstation separated them.
“Hey, Aaron, feeling better? You really need to take care of yourself out here. Work’s important, but your health matters more. Getting sick in a city like this? For folks like us, that’s a luxury we can’t afford.”
Her voice was warm, her expression gentle, and for a moment, Aaron felt a flicker of warmth in his chest.
It was nice to be cared about.
A shame, really.
Alice was already married— she had been for years, with a child no less.
“Thanks for the concern, Alice. I’m all good now—fit as a fiddle!”
He flexed his arm playfully, striking a mock bodybuilder pose.
“Glad to hear it. Oh!—new phone? "And an *iPhone*?” Her eyes zeroed in on the pristine white box in his hand, surprise lifting her brows.
“Came into a little cash. Figured it was time for an upgrade.” With Alice, there was no need for pretense. He grinned unabashedly.
“That thing must’ve cost a fortune. You young folks and your spending habits… I could never justify dropping that much on a phone—that’s half a year’s living expenses for my family! But Aaron, listen—don’t go blowing it all, alright? Save a little. What happens when you start dating? Or want to settle down in New York? Life’s expensive.”
Alice’s tone was earnest, loving even.
Aaron nodded alone, offering no argument.
After exchanging a few more words, he finally unboxed his prize—the iPhone X.
The setup was a hassle—activation, account registration, the works.
Whether the phone lived up to its “buttery smooth” reputation remained to be seen, but one thing was certain: it wasn’t user-friendly. A full thirty minutes passed before everything was finally in order.
Still, as he admired the vibrant, crystal-clear display, Aaron couldn’t help but nod in approval. Say what you will about Apple, but their screens were in a league of their own—light years ahead of his old budget BLU phone.
While he’d been preoccupied, Abigail had returned to her seat.
Unusually quiet today, lacking her usual boisterous energy. Maybe having her prized phone “dethroned” had taken the wind out of her sails…
……
Soon, work hours began, and everyone settled in, powering up their computers.
Then—
“Everyone, pause to see what you’re doing. Company-wide meeting in the main conference room—*no* exceptions. Now.”
The manager’s voice cut through the office, sharp and commanding.
The building itself was dated, the rent cheap, but at least space wasn’t an issue—the conference room could comfortably fit the entire staff.
Employees from every department filed in, chatting and laughing. Aaron silenced his phone, grabbed a notepad and pen, and followed the crowd.
Once seated, the room was a sea of people—eighty-odd employees packed together.
The sheer scale of it told Aaron everything: the CEO must be making an appearance.
No one else had the clout to summon the entire company like this.
Sure enough, once the room was full, a cluster of department managers escorted a slight, wiry middle-aged man to the front.
Adam. The boss himself.
Facing the crowd, Adam remained standing.
“Good afternoon, everyone. I’ll keep this brief—just a few announcements.”
Despite his small stature, his voice boomed, effortlessly filling the room without a microphone.
“First—some exciting news. Our dev team has completed a premium mobile game. Many of you may have heard whispers about this project. It’s called *Angels & Demons*—a Q-style RPG featuring VIP tiers, pet evolution, gear crafting and upgrading, gem socketing… all the trending mechanics. I have high hopes for its market performance.”
Adam’s tone was fervent, his excitement palpable.
Yet, across the room, stifled eye-rolls and barely concealed smirks spread.
*Another reskinned cash-grab.*
The buzzwords—“VIP tiers,” “pet evolution,” “gem socketing”—might impress outsiders, but here? Everyone knew the truth.
This was just another shameless pay-to-win clone, flooding an already over-saturated market.
What *had* the dev team been doing all this time? The company’s decline over the past two years? A direct result of their failure to produce a single hit.
Oblivious, Adam pressed on.
“Now, the *second* announcement—even bigger!”
A collective, resigned sigh rippled through the room.
When the boss called something “big”, employees knew better than to expect good news.
“My philosophy has always been to let every employee share in the company’s success! "So, with this incredible game launching, I’ve devised a *brilliant* plan—to let a select group of ambitious, driven colleagues get rich *first*!”
Adam’s face flushed with enthusiasm as he spoke.
Yet, wherever his gaze landed, employees ducked their heads, desperate to avoid eye contact.
No one wanted to be “selected.”
- Writer
