Chapter 1

I was blasted online by the new intern, Chloe Reed, who claimed AscendCorp was forcing employees to use their vacation days for mandatory team-building events.

No one wanted to travel all the way to a tropical island to put on a show with coworkers.

But what the internet didn't know was AscendCorp's team-building tradition:

Every year, we booked an entire five-star resort, all expenses paid, and employees could bring their families.

We even gave an additional three days of paid leave, with a lavish per-person budget that ensured a truly luxury experience.

The entire internet was calling me a cold-blooded capitalist, so I decided to fulfill their wishes and issued a direct announcement:

"In response to employee feedback and to respect individual time, this year's company retreat will be canceled. Instead, a $500 free-travel stipend will be issued to all employees."

The moment the announcement went out, the company erupted. Senior employees swarmed my office door, begging me to bring back the Caribbean sun and sand.

Brenda Patterson, our Administrative Director, and I had just finalized this year's retreat plans.

"Alex, this is the one, right? A six-star island in the Maldives, all-inclusive."

Brenda's voice was buzzing with excitement.

I nodded, satisfied.

Years ago, in a cramped, dingy startup office, I had promised my team:

"One day, I'm going to take all of us to the most breathtaking places on Earth to celebrate our successes!"

It was a promise I had kept for many years.

I told Brenda, "The per-person budget is generous—don't skimp on a single cent. And make sure every employee attending gets three extra days of *paid* annual leave!"

Brenda smiled, closing her tablet. "If we send this out, the company-wide WhatsApp group is going to explode."

Sure enough, after the notice went into our 400-plus person company WhatsApp group, it was instantly flooded with celebratory emojis.

David Miller from the tech department posted a family photo:

"Amazing! Last year I promised to take my daughter to the beach to see sea turtles, and now it's finally happening!"

A newlywed couple from the marketing department was already discussing whether to turn it into a spontaneous honeymoon.

The entire company was immersed in a festive joy.

I watched the endless stream of thank-you messages scrolling across my phone screen, a deep sense of satisfaction filling me.

However, a discordant message abruptly popped up.

It was from the new intern, Chloe Reed.

She posted a link to a viral TikTok video where an influencer was ranting about pointless corporate retreats, then casually added:

"Seriously? Are they for real? A company still doing mandatory trips in this day and age? I'd totally rather just stay home and do nothing."

The lively group chat instantly froze.

Mike Peterson, a department head, immediately tried to defuse the tension:

"Chloe just joined, she doesn't know the ropes yet. Our company retreat is a top-tier perk—you'd be crazy to miss it!"

Another coworker sarcastically chimed in, "Exactly. Some people would kill to get an invite like that."

Chloe immediately replied with an eye-roll emoji:

"No thanks, not interested. Don't want to waste my life putting on a show with coworkers I barely know."

"If the boss really has that kind of cash, why not just give us the money directly? That'd be way more useful."

Her comments silenced the group completely.

A few senior employees who had been enthusiastically chatting just moments before quietly deleted their messages.

I even noticed a few anonymous profiles discreetly 'liked' Chloe's comment, only to quickly unlike it seconds later.

That afternoon, there was a knock on my office door.

It was Chloe Reed.

She wore trendy slides and carried a bubble tea, showing no hint of nervousness in front of the CEO.

"Alex, can we talk?"

With a slight tilt of her chin, she casually flopped onto the sofa across from me.

"I think this whole company retreat thing is totally outdated. For young people like us, we value work-life separation. You spend a fortune to gather us all, and we have to fake smiles? How exhausting."

She looked at me defiantly. "It's an emotional drain, you know? Why not just give us the money directly? Everyone wins."

I looked at her, that 'let me show you how it's done' look on her face, finding it both absurd and amusing.

"The company retreat is a mark of honor for our outstanding employees, a form of collective recognition, not some bargain-bin perk you can haggle over."

Chloe scoffed. "Fine, whatever. My bad for even saying anything."

She stood up to leave, mumbling under her breath,

"So preachy. Lame."

Towards the end of the workday, I saw Gary Thompson, an office veteran, along with a few younger employees, gather around Chloe's desk.

Gary beamed, "Chloe, what you said? That's exactly how we feel! You nailed it! Don't worry, we've got your back!"

Chloe smugly raised an eyebrow, lowering her voice. "Don't worry, Gary, watch this."

Immediately after, I saw Chloe pull out her phone and snap a pic of her computer screen.

Then, she flipped the camera to herself, her face instantly shifting to a put-upon expression, complete with a somber gray filter.

Her lips moved, forming a silent "Help me!"

My stomach dropped.