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Chapter 135 c
🕑 Added 2025-03-30 15:02:01 +0000 UTCChapter 135 c
“What do you mean, I’m fired?!”
Leaving Biotechnica Tower’s entrance, Emilia Morton didn’t wander far. She just found a spot in the public plaza to sit down. Though technically public, this was still corporate property, so it was a shady, clean, and well-maintained area—nothing like the garbage-strewn corners of other districts.
First, she tried calling Dr. Diana Kuno, her team’s overall lead, but no one answered. Confused, she next tried JoAnne Koch, the R&D director. She was even less successful; JoAnne rejected the call outright, then blocked her number.
Emilia was totally at a loss.
Finally, she got through to a close friend inside Biotechnica. That friend spelled it out: she was officially terminated.
“Didn’t you watch the news this morning?”
“No…I was up late playing Victoria 7 with some friends online. I almost overslept.”
“WNS reported everything about your Nightingale Project. Diana Kuno apparently committed suicide out of guilt—shot herself dozens of times, or so they say. Pretty gruesome.”
Nightingale…on WNS? Diana…suicide? What the actual hell?
Emilia’s head swam, the anger she’d felt for the security guard dissolving in an instant. She muttered a quick excuse to end the call with her friend, then hurried to a nearby shop, borrowing a computer terminal to check that morning’s broadcast. Sure enough, WNS had run a major exposé on “Nightingale,” painting Biotechnica in a monstrous light. Then Emilia popped onto Biotechnica’s official site to see a PR statement.
It confirmed that, in addition to Diana’s “suicide,” several of the Nightingale Project’s engineers were suspended or demoted. But only one engineer was outright terminated—her.
Emilia almost had an aneurysm. Suspended or demoted for the others? That was just for show. They’d likely get reinstated once the storm blew over, whereas her situation was final.
No second chances.
She knew exactly why: she was the only one who’d openly opposed JoAnne in the team. Even without being a genius, it didn’t take much to see how it all fit.
…
Leaving Corpo Plaza, Emilia headed to Kabuki. She purchased a cheap phone and an eSIM card in a local marketplace. While weaving through the low overhangs, dodging puddles and refuse, she dialed JoAnne’s number once again. No immediate answer. On her third try, the call finally connected. JoAnne sounded cautious.
“Who is it? Identify yourself.”
Emilia wasted no time going off: “Who the hell do you think?! You two-faced bitch. I know exactly what you did. You pinned all those files on me! You got me fired! Just because I had the guts to stand up to you, you piece of crap?”
“Did you seriously buy a new eSIM card just to—”
“Shut it!” Emilia hissed. “You stole my entire career from me. So guess what? I’ve got nothing left to lose, but you sure as hell do.”
JoAnne’s voice took on a wary edge. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You kicked me out, but did you forget I was part of the project too? I know all about Nightingale.
Every. Last. Detail.”
“So what?” JoAnne said icily. “Only Diana and I had the original data. None of you had backups.”
“Oh, you sure? You think we’re all incompetent just because you never saw a backup? Think again.”
Silence crackled over the line, but Emilia felt JoAnne’s panic. She smirked.
“Remember how you had those mercenaries dump bioweapons on the Red Ochre Nomad clan, but a few of our own guys got infected? Then you handed them poison labeled as ‘antidote’? Guess who recorded that in 8K with my cyberoptics, you scumbag? I can see every pore on your face.
You’d better believe I have plenty of evidence.”
JoAnne said nothing, but her ragged breathing spoke volumes. Emilia went on, triumphant:
“So here’s the deal: either you figure out a way to reinstate me at Biotechnica, or I send every bit of that evidence to WNS to air tomorrow morning. Don’t even try that corporate gaslighting on me. I know all your tricks. Now speak up—don’t just go quiet on me.”
After a few seconds, JoAnne’s rasping voice returned. “…I need time to think.”
“Ha! Time to ‘think,’ my ass. You’d better have an answer for me before tomorrow, or you’re finished.”
…
*City Center – Biotechnica Corporate Hotel on Republic Way*
Escorted by two armored SUVs and one armored truck, a sleek corporate sedan pulled up to the hotel entrance. Immediately, squads of Biotechnica security officers deployed, forming a protective perimeter. The hotel staff looked on in shock, uncertain what was happening.
A major, indicated by the insignia on his uniform, strode up to the front desk. “Who’s the manager on duty? Get them here now.”
A pudgy, balding man in a suit came scurrying over moments later, bowing at the waist. The major wasted no time:
“The top floor is under Biotechnica lockdown. Director JoAnne Koch will be occupying it, and from now on, the entire hotel is in quarantine status.”
The manager trembled. “Y-yes, Major. This is a Biotechnica property, so obviously no external guests are allowed—”
“Doesn’t matter,” the major cut him off. “Anyone working or staying in this hotel will undergo a strict screening. Understood?”
The manager glanced at the heavily-armed troopers outside, nodded frantically. “Understood, sir.”
“Good.”
Only then did JoAnne Koch exit the sedan, face drawn into a scowl. As she walked inside, several troops moved to escort her, rifles at the ready.
