Chapter Twelve: Yang Luo

The night had grown deep.

Yet the lights in the workspace still shone brightly.

When Yang Luo rubbed his eyes and rose from his desk, glancing around, he realized with a vague sense of surprise that most of his colleagues had already left.

"Working overtime this late again..." he muttered to himself.

The team leader, who was beside him playing a game on the computer, saw him stand up, took off his headphones, and spoke to him while continuing to play, "Finished up with the work?"

"Yes, all the documents are tied up, no errors in the code. I'll let the planners check it tomorrow morning," Yang Luo replied.

"Nice," the team leader grinned and gave him a thumbs-up. "You're top-notch, Luo."

"Not at all, you built the framework. I just fill in the blanks," Yang Luo responded, engaging in the customary exchange of compliments. With a smile, he began to pack his things, preparing to leave. But as he gathered his belongings, a sudden sharp pain struck his chest.

"Hiss—" he clutched at his chest, frowning.

"What's wrong?" The team leader's gaze flickered between his screen and Yang Luo, and seeing his expression, he asked casually.

"Nothing... just a bit of stabbing pain in my chest. Happens often lately. Probably from staying up too late," Yang Luo answered.

"You should get it checked at the hospital," the team leader suggested.

"I'll just buy some medicine..." he started to say, but the increasing pain made him furrow his brows more deeply, and changed his mind.

"I’ll go to the hospital tomorrow morning. Can you help me apply for leave on the intranet?"

"OK, OK, absolutely," the team leader made an "OK" gesture and slipped his headphones back on, giving Yang Luo a parting word, "Get a thorough check this time—gotta take care of yourself."

With that, he threw himself back into the fiery world of Summoner’s Rift.

Yang Luo shook his head with a chuckle, slung his backpack over his shoulder, left his cubicle, went downstairs to the first floor, and walked out through the sensor doors.

It was already three in the morning. The cold wind of the night brushed against his face, and perhaps due to the chill, the pain in his chest gradually faded.

"Should I tell the team leader to cancel tomorrow’s leave and come back to work?" As soon as the pain subsided, Yang Luo began to regret it.

He worked at a top tech firm, with over a dozen days of annual leave, and he’d only used a few. At year’s end, unused leave would be converted into cash according to his salary, so taking leave meant paying out of his own pocket to visit the hospital.

...It stung a bit.

But since the leave had been requested, and his heart had been hurting often lately—possibly a sign of some illness—Yang Luo gave up on the idea of returning to cancel his leave.

"Better get checked tomorrow... If I get some medicine and recover well, I’ll be able to keep working and earning." He turned back to look at the company building.

There, atop the highest point of the façade, the two grand, flamboyant characters spelling "Shengyi" glowed brilliantly in the cold night, shining in his eyes.

That was the name of the company where he worked.

Shengyi.

A premier domestic gaming titan, with annual revenue and profits exceeding tens of billions.

Since graduating from the university’s communications department, Yang Luo had worked here in the server team for eight years now.

Eight years—longer than he spent in school. The company had become half a home to him.

In Yang Luo’s eyes, Shengyi was a place full of warmth.

After graduation, the campus recruitment training was well-organized, mentors patiently guided them, and the colleagues who joined with him became good friends, always laughing together.

After training, he and his close friends joined a project team for a game that never launched, working five years. Though the project was ultimately scrapped due to licensing issues, the company valued Yang Luo’s skills and character. Not only did they keep him, they transferred him internally to a successful, live project as a member of the server team—three years have passed since.

Though he was now the oldest in the group—the team leader was a newcomer, only two years out of college—the relationships were amicable. The team leader and others respectfully called him "Brother Luo," and hearing that always filled him with pride.

More importantly, after joining this project, his income soared. Not only did he get monthly bonuses, but his base salary alone surpassed thirty thousand. Even in Qingxia, a quasi-first-tier city, he was among the top five percent of earners.

For someone like Yang Luo, who grew up in a poor rural family, such treatment from the company filled him with gratitude.

"I've bought a home for my parents in their old city. Settled in Qingxia, bought a hundred-square-meter apartment in the suburbs—though the down payment emptied my savings and I still owe fifteen thousand a month on the mortgage... but as long as I work hard each month, put in an extra day or two of overtime, I can cover the loan and still save up. Then, I’ll buy another home in Qingxia, bring my parents over, and in a few years find a girlfriend, get married, have kids, so they can enjoy a far better start than I ever did, with more room to grow—ha, that would be fulfillment enough for this life."

Even after hailing the company ride, settling into the late-night free taxi that took him home, Yang Luo’s smile lingered.

Dreaming of a distant future, his heart brimmed with joy.

But once he returned home and lay on the narrow bed of his rented room, the pain in his heart stirred again, interrupting his reverie.

"Tch..." Yang Luo clicked his tongue in annoyance.

"...Why does it hurt again?"

With the ache, unwelcome memories rushed in.

It was during the mass layoffs after the last project failed to launch.

His friends who joined that project with him hadn’t managed to transfer internally and were forced to leave. Their attitudes changed dramatically after, becoming bitter and resentful, constantly dragging Yang Luo into complaints about Shengyi.

"Stupid company... only gave N compensation, not even N+1. They said, ‘If you go to labor arbitration, we’ll see you through to the end’—"

"Screw them, I’ll fight for it!"

"Yang Luo, if you stay in this company, be careful. When you’re no longer useful, Shengyi will kick you out without a second thought..."

Such negativity made Yang Luo frown every time.

Hearing it day after day, he eventually drifted apart from that friend.

He suspected jealousy—his friend resented Yang Luo for getting picked up by another project, while he himself hadn’t managed to transfer, so he soured.

Later events proved Yang Luo’s judgment correct.

That person, after leaving, didn’t let it go. He not only filed for labor arbitration, but also leaked some negative company information, costing Shengyi a sum and causing a public relations mess.

Nevertheless, he became persona non grata. It was said Shengyi and other giants, through their "Alliance for Integrity," blacklisted him, so all major gaming companies rejected his resume. He disappeared entirely, whereabouts unknown.

Yang Luo could never understand such actions.

What was the point? Even if the company paid compensation, it was just a few months’ salary. It would be better to take the N settlement and land a new job, keep relations amicable for background checks—why make things so antagonistic?

As for the claim, "When you’re no longer useful, Shengyi will kick you out..." Yang Luo dismissed it entirely.

As long as he kept honing his skills, how could he ever be useless?

And Shengyi, a company so full of warmth, would surely treat veteran employees well.

With such thoughts, the pain in his chest eased.

Exhausted from work, Yang Luo lacked the energy even to shower. He wrapped himself in his clothes, burrowed beneath the covers, and prepared for a sweet sleep.

As his consciousness faded, drifting between dream and wakefulness, Yang Luo murmured as if answering his former friend:

"If you don’t treat the company as your home... how can the company treat you as family?"