The Game Designer's Revenge

As my fingers tapped the final line of test code on the keyboard, the sky outside was just beginning to brighten. The green prompt "Test Passed" appeared on the screen. I let out a long breath and rubbed my aching shoulders. I had dedicated a full three years to the game Beyond the Stars. From the crude design sketches I drew in my rented room at the start, to leading the team step by step to build the code framework, down to every character's skill effect parameters—it was all debugged by me through countless sleepless nights. Last month, at the international game expo when it won the award, I clenched my fists tightly in the audience. Noah Davis — our company boss — patted me on the back and smiled: "This game's success is all thanks to you! Once the overseas licensing fees arrive, you'll receive a ten-million bonus!" I held on to those words for an entire month. Every day, passing the company bulletin board, I couldn't help but steal a glance, hoping to see an announcement about the bonus recipients. But yesterday afternoon, when a crowd had gathered in front of the bulletin board, I pushed my way through—and was stunned. On the public list, under the 'bonus recipients' column, it wasn't my name—it was 'Leah Scott'. Leah Scott is an intern who only joined a month ago. On her first day, she asked me, "How do I open the game code?" and just last week, she accidentally deleted the test version from my computer. How could someone like that take the multi-million bonus that rightfully belongs to me? When I stormed into Noah Davis's office holding the announcement list, he was leaning back in his chair, sipping tea. "Mr. Davis, is this list a mistake?" I slammed the list down on his desk, my voice trembling uncontrollably. Noah Davis put down his teacup and slowly glanced at me. "No, it's not a mistake. Leah Scott has performed well recently, helping to optimize many details. The bonus should go to her." "Optimize details?" I nearly laughed out loud. "The core code for Beyond the Stars is accessible only to me. She hasn't even looked at it—how could she optimize it? Did you forget you said last month that this bonus was mine?" "Charles Lynn, don't be so absolute in your words." Noah Davis's expression darkened. "The company's decisions are not for you to question." Leah Scott is a newcomer; what's wrong with giving her a little more encouragement? As a veteran employee, you should have a broader perspective. "A broader perspective?" I clenched my fists until my knuckles turned white. "This isn't about perspective; it's about fairness! I've endured three years—why should an intern who just arrived get to reap the rewards?" "I told you, this is the company's decision." Noah Davis stood up and walked over to me. "If you can't accept it, then just quit." "There are plenty of people eager to take your place." That sentence hit me like a bucket of cold water poured from head to toe. I looked at Noah Davis's face and suddenly felt like he was a stranger — three years ago, when the company was on the brink of collapse, I led the team through sleepless nights rewriting code and secured our first round of funding; Now that the company is thriving, he can so casually give credit for my work to someone else. "Fine, I'm quitting." I said through gritted teeth. Noah Davis pulled a resignation letter from his drawer—clearly prepared long ago—and pushed it toward me: "Why didn't you do this sooner? Sign here, your salary will be settled." I picked up the pen and, almost summoning all my strength, signed my name. The pen's tip tore through the paper, just like the three years of my hard work being ripped to shreds. As I walked out of the office, my colleagues kept their heads down, too afraid to meet my eyes. I didn't look back; I simply grabbed my laptop bag and left the company I'd worked at for five years.