The bitter taste of coffee was still on the tip of my tongue, and I heard the supervisor say in my mind: "Hit him on the back of the head from behind and drag him to the computer room."
The cup in my hand almost slipped.
It's not "should" or "think", it's a complete, clear, and graphic plan - in his mind, he is rehearsing how to knock me out with the scrapped server box in the corner, and then drag me into the utility room at the end of the corridor that is always locked.
The supervisor was standing behind me, about a meter away.
I could feel his eyes on the back of my head, like a ruler measuring the position.
"Xiao Shen, will you work overtime tonight?" His voice was gentle, with the calmness typical of a middle-aged man. This is the most normal thing he has said to me in three years.
But I heard him continue to say in his mind: "The third bone at the back of the head is the weakest. It can cause you to faint with just one blow, and there won't be much blood."
I turned around and tried to keep my expression as natural as possible: "Mr. Wang, I'm a little uncomfortable today and want to go back early."
"Okay, I'm in need of health." The supervisor nodded and even patted me on the shoulder.
The moment that hand patted my shoulder, I heard anger welling up in his mind: "Trash, if you don't take action today, you have to wait until tomorrow. The system said the best window is before eight o'clock tonight."
System?
