Chapter 2

In the search box, I viciously typed two words: beat someone up.

The page loaded, showing a bunch of merchants offering "sparring practice" and "boxing experience."

I randomly clicked on one. The avatar was a delivery guy wearing a helmet.

I got straight to the point: "Hi, I want to hire someone to beat up my boss. Male, about six foot one, looks pretty built."

The other side replied instantly: "..."

I added: "Money is no object."

After a few seconds, they sent a long voice message.

I clicked it open. A voice full of positive energy came through:

"Hiring someone to hurt people is illegal! You'll go to jail! It's not worth throwing yourself away over some boss."

"Listen to my advice---there are plenty of fish in the sea. Why fixate on one? Change jobs, start a new life! Look on the bright side!"

Me: "..."

A kind-hearted delivery driver.

I silently closed the app. Beating him up was out.

But his words gave me an idea.

Since Marcus was afraid of romantic scandals, I might as well make this scandal a reality!

He wanted a promotion to headquarters, right? At this critical juncture, the last thing he'd want was unclear relations with a subordinate.

As long as I made my "pursuit" obvious and foolish enough that everyone knew about it, he'd definitely avoid me to prevent suspicion.

When that happened, forget making things difficult for me---he probably wouldn't even want to see me.

I'm a genius!

A perfect revenge plan rose up in my mind.

Step one of the plan was to make my "crush" even more widely known.

I needed a platform.

So I posted on the company's internal forum, in the anonymous section.

Title: "Help! How do I pursue that handsome, aloof boss in our department?"

I wrote the main post with heartfelt sincerity, tears in every word, portraying myself as a humble little employee madly in love and recklessly brave.

To add authenticity, I subtly mentioned a few of Marcus's habits that only our department would know, like how he only drank pour-over black coffee and liked to tap his knuckles on the table during meetings.

As soon as I posted it, it exploded.

"Is the OP Susanna from the Planning Department? Front row for the gossip!"

"Wow, is this the warrior who confessed publicly? I salute you!"

"Mr. Marcus is such an iceberg---probably hard to melt. Good luck, OP!"

Watching the replies grow rapidly, I smiled with satisfaction.

The buzz was there. Next came the actual action.

Netizens flooded me with advice.

The top comment said: "If you want to capture a man's heart, first capture his stomach! Send him a love bento!"

Good idea.

The next day, I got up early and spent two hours in the kitchen, producing a bento box with... extremely abstract presentation.

I tried hard to shape the rice into a heart but ended up with an unnameable blob.

The broccoli was overcooked, yellow like autumn grass.

The only meat dish was pan-seared chicken breast, black as charcoal.

I looked at my masterpiece and fell silent.

Whatever. It's the thought that counts. Besides, I was afraid if I made it too good, it might actually reach his heart.

After all, I just wanted to disgust him.

I packed up the bento and brought it to the company.

At noon, while Marcus was in a meeting, I snuck the bento onto his desk and stuck on a note with a giant heart.

After doing all this, I slunk back to my seat like a thief.

I waited for him to come back, see this "love" bento, and throw it in the trash with a disgusted look.

However, when he returned, he just calmly glanced at the bento box, picked it up, and walked into his private office.

All afternoon, there was no movement.

I sat restlessly, frequently glancing at that closed door.

Did he eat it?

No way. Even a dog would shake its head at that thing.