Chapter 4

No sooner had my cry for help left my lips than Mark's calm voice came through the walkie-talkie.

"Oh, Mr. Miller, still on duty? We're just working a little overtime here."

He seemed to have switched the walkie-talkie to a private channel, as Mr. Miller didn't hear my plea.

"Oh, Anya's in there doing a final inventory."

"You know, the last batch of goods before the Christmas break. She's so dedicated, she insisted on overseeing it herself."

"We're just here to keep her company, in case anything comes up."

Chloe immediately echoed him with a sickly sweet voice.

"That's right, Mr. Miller, Anya is so dedicated. We all told her to rest early, but she just wouldn't."

"She even said it was cool in the freezer, which helped her focus on work."

Mr. Miller seemed convinced, his voice full of approval.

"Ah, Anya's a responsible young woman. You two are working hard too."

"Alright, you carry on. I'll go check other areas."

The footsteps gradually faded.

My last shred of hope was extinguished by their casual dismissal.

I slumped to the ground, staring despairingly at the tightly shut door.

The walkie-talkie was switched back to the private channel, and Mark's mocking voice came through clearly.

"Hear that, Anya?"

"Everyone thinks you're a workaholic, a strong, independent woman."

"Even if you freeze to death in there, you'll just be seen as a martyr for the company, a tragic example of dedication."

"You'll even become a positive role model for new employees."

Chloe's laughter grew even more unrestrained.

"Anya, listen! The top gifter just shelled out another ten grand in digital gifts!"

"He says if you kneel down right now and act like a dog, bark a few times, he'll make Mark turn up the heat."

"What do you say? Thinking about it?"

Humiliation, naked humiliation.

They not only wanted my life, but they wanted to stomp on my dignity, crushing it to dust, before I died.

I bit down hard, the taste of blood spreading in my mouth.

My body grew colder and colder, my eyelids heavy as lead.

I knew this was a sign of mid-to-late stage hypothermia.

At this rate, it wouldn't be long before I slipped into unconsciousness, and then my heart would stop.

Was I really going to die here?

Die in a meticulously planned trap set by my fiancé and his mistress?

No. I wouldn't accept it.

I *refused* to accept it!

I used my last bit of strength, leaning on the shelf, swaying as I stood up.

If they weren't going to let me live, then we'd all go down together!

With the last ounce of power in my body, I steadied my gun-wielding hand just as I was about to slip.

I no longer aimed at the vial.

Instead, I raised it slightly, aiming for the yellow, deadly insulation layer above the shelves.

My movement seemed to finally make Mark realize something was wrong.

His arrogant laughter stopped.

"You... you're really going to do it?"

For the first time, a hint of genuine panic entered his voice.

I didn't answer him.

I just pulled the trigger with all my might.

"Bang!"

A dull gunshot.

A blinding red flash, like an angry fire snake, instantly shot towards the yellow foam!

The next second, flames erupted with a roar!

Chloe's ear-splitting scream came through the walkie-talkie.

"Fire! Ah—!"

Followed by Mark's horrified bellow.

"Quick! Put out the fire! Damn it!"

However, it was too late.

The shrill, piercing fire alarm, echoing throughout the entire factory, was instantly triggered.

Its sound drowned out all the insane laughter and screams.

Polyurethane foam insulation is highly flammable.

Once ignited, the fire spreads rapidly, releasing thick smoke containing highly toxic cyanide.

This was the first lesson I learned during my orientation as a QC Supervisor.