Chapter 222: Actively Coming to Me

Wu Chang entered the elevator and pressed the highest floor button: 99.

While waiting for the elevator to rise, he sifted through the original owner's memories in his mind.

Songhong Corporation, once an unremarkable arms manufacturer within the Federation, began sweeping reforms shortly after its current chairman, Schulz, took over fifteen years ago.

By increasing R&D funding, recruiting vast numbers of talent, and overhauling its promotion system, Songhong Corporation soared—within just three years, it became the Federation's largest arms manufacturer, leading by a cliff-like margin for twelve consecutive years.

Of course, this was Songhong Corporation's official account.

The most widely circulated conspiracy theory about Songhong's rise was that it collaborated with the Federation to dismantle an alien spacecraft, acquiring alien black-tech that propelled its technological leap.

But regardless of the true cause, Songhong Corporation's status was unquestionable—especially in Wildo City, where it was no exaggeration to call its chairman the local emperor.

At Wildo City's elite gatherings, if Songhong Corporation's representative was absent, no one was allowed to even lift the lid off their food tray, let alone pick up chopsticks.

Songhong Corporation's presence brought massive tax revenue to Wildo City, transforming it from a Federation backwater into the third-largest metropolis, after the capital New York Three.

Yet it also brought Wildo City unique troubles.

Disqualified Monsters.

These monsters had no known origin or cause; they appeared mysteriously, attacked and devoured every living thing they saw, then mimicked their behavior and mannerisms using the memories of their victims.

Moreover, each Disqualified Monster possessed a unique special ability—difficult to counter, beyond the reach of conventional armed forces.

Disqualified Monsters appeared only in Wildo City and around Songhong Corporation's major Federation branches, reinforcing public belief in the alien spacecraft conspiracy.

The emergence of Disqualified Monsters accelerated the decline of conventional arms, making Songhong's high-tech weaponry the preferred choice for both military and civilians.

As the greatest beneficiary, Songhong Corporation's connection to the Disqualified Monsters was obvious to any fool.

Public suspicion toward Songhong never ceased—but their suspicions were worthless.

Because the umbrella shielding Songhong was too large, too hard.

Five years ago, under the leadership of the Federation Firearms Association, Songhong's fiercest rival, a grand campaign was launched against Songhong Corporation.

Environmental groups suspected Songhong of dumping toxic waste that caused Disqualified Monsters; animal rights groups accused it of mass live-animal experiments that disrupted ecosystems;

The Blue Faction condemned Songhong for racial discrimination, claiming insufficient hiring of minority groups; sexual minorities protested, stating their community was ignored within the company and demanding at least five new types of restrooms.

Alongside the Federation Firearms Association's allegations of illegal propaganda, labor unions accused Songhong of severe worker exploitation, while the Trade Commission initiated an antitrust investigation demanding corporate breakup.

Suddenly, representatives from all corners converged on Wildo City to join the grand spectacle.

The scene was livelier than the Six Sects surrounding Bright Top Peak.

For a time, the eyes of the entire Federation—and the world—were fixed on Wildo City, waiting to see how Songhong would end this.

The outcome surprised everyone.

The day after the Anti-Songhong Alliance—comprising over a dozen organizations—held their joint press conference in Wildo City,

a Disqualified Monster attacked the hotel housing all the delegates; not a single representative who attended the press conference survived.

Songhong Corporation held an emergency press conference overnight, expressing condolences for the tragedy and declaring the urgent need to accelerate development of stronger automated weapon systems—only overwhelming firepower could protect Federation citizens from Disqualified Monsters.

Songhong's brutal retaliation shattered the public's worldview—but soon, they realized they'd shattered it too early.

People assumed that after such atrocities, Songhong would at least face punishment, if not outright elimination, to appease public outrage.

But the aftermath? There was no aftermath.

The incident was buried. Seven days later, under media guidance, public attention shifted to a celebrity's hoard of a thousand bottles of baby oil.

Since then, no one dared provoke Songhong Corporation again.

Ding.

As Wu Chang recalled the memories, the elevator had stopped at the 99th floor.

At the elevator exit was a twenty-meter corridor lined with a dozen offices, each housing twenty to thirty young, beautiful women.

They were all the chairman's secretaries—some handling work, others scheduling, others managing personal affairs.

None were mere ornaments; all came from the Federation's top universities, including assistants assigned solely to private life duties.

Every assistant stationed on this floor received at least Level Six employee benefits—that's why they fought so hard to get here.

As for why Schulz insisted on top-tier talent even for personal assistants, there was only one reason: as he once said as a child, speaking to fools made him nauseous.

This wasn't mere preference; after every phone call with the governor, a comedian, Schulz would gag.

At the end of the corridor stood a single door.

Aside from the offices for secretaries and assistants at the elevator entrance, the entire 99th floor was the chairman's office.

Wu Chang was about to meet the chairman of Songhong Corporation—the man who elevated it to its current status, one of the Federation's wealthiest and most influential figures.

"Chairman of Songhong Corporation: Schulz"

Looking at the name beside the door, Wu Chang took a deep breath, adjusting his expression to appear less composed—like the original body's owner: tense, constrained, uneasy.

Wu Chang stood at the office door, his face twisted into a miserable, half-sobbing, half-smiling grimace, staring up at the camera above the chairman's office door.

Beep.

With the sound of authentication approved, the office door opened.

Wu Chang bowed slightly, controlling his footsteps as he entered the office.

Schulz chose such a vast office not for pure material indulgence or to decorate it lavishly like a palace.

Quite the opposite—the office was starkly minimalist; ninety percent of its space was filled with one thing: books.

Countless bookshelves lined the office, making it feel less like a chairman's office and more like a vast private library.

Tens of thousands of books were stored here, with new ones delivered weekly.

The original owner of Wu Chang's body had often secretly wondered: did Schulz even read all these books?

Wasn't he just like him—treating books as furniture or decoration, buying them without ever reading them?

Passing through the towering bookshelves, he reached Schulz's true workspace: an open-plan area where a large circular desk was surrounded by a circle of people.

They were among the Federation's wealthiest elites, Songhong's top clients, who had just been attending the quarterly procurement meeting.

At the far end of the desk, a middle-aged man sat upright, expression stern and unreadable—that was Schulz.

The moment Schultz saw Wu Chang, he frowned.

"Straighten your back."

Wu Chang obediently straightened his spine; even the military parade unit would have praised his posture as textbook-perfect.

This was the original owner's way of testing Schultz—whenever he felt he'd done something wrong, he would deliberately slouch before Schultz.

If the other person told him to straighten up, asked why he looked so defeated, it meant the other person wasn't truly angry.

Otherwise, it meant he had truly messed up.

Watching Wu Chang's ridiculous posture, everyone in the meeting room kept solemn faces, recalling recent sorrows, daring not to laugh out loud.

Had any other Level 8 employee been in his place, they wouldn't have treated him so lightly, because every Level 8 employee had risen from Level 1 or Level 6—each possessed both ability and cunning.

Except Wu Chang.

He was a connection hire, Schultz's cousin from their hometown.

Thanks to their childhood friendship, this waste had been parachuted into the role of Level 8 Department Manager, even seizing control of the crucial Fully Automatic Defense System Division.

Ever since, Songhwa Corp's promotion system had symbolized absolute efficiency and absolute fairness—Wu Chang was its biggest stain.

When Wu Chang arrived, the meeting was already nearing its end, and the attendees were gradually leaving.

A thin, bald man with glasses walked up to Wu Chang and spoke in the tone of a mentor advising a junior:

"Manager Xiao En, compared to other managers, I actually enjoy dealing with you—I hope to see you again at the next quarterly meeting."

The speaker was Morez, a titan in finance and media; among those present, his wealth ranked among the top three.

More importantly, he lived in Wildo City, one of the easiest and most valuable clients to court. Morez continued:

"Technically, I shouldn't be telling you this—Schultz has his own plans, and I shouldn't interfere. But I'm an investor; when I see a promising stock, I always want to invest."

"Sometimes, in business—especially arms business—you can't hold too high a moral standard. The Fully Automatic Defense System concerns public safety. Wildo City is too peaceful now; new orders are scarce. But you might find a way."

"I suggest you observe how Manager Farrell operates. As our most promising current department manager, he leapt from Level 3 to Level 5 by selling defense insurance and bulletproof backpacks to schools—a rare success story."

Once everyone had left, only Schultz and Wu Chang remained in the office.

The atmosphere grew solemn. Schultz was organizing his thoughts; Wu Chang glanced around, searching for useful clues.

His gaze swept across the center of the large round table and spotted a number.

"34."

In the original owner Xiao En's memories, similar numbers often appeared—they were a countdown, but not one that decreased steadily.

After each quarterly meeting, the number sometimes dropped more, sometimes even increased.

Xiao En had once wondered what the number meant, but Schultz never told him.

They had grown up together; Xiao En knew Schultz's temperament well—if Schultz wanted him to know, he would speak without being asked.

!

If Schultz didn't bring it up, it meant he didn't want him to know.

Though Xiao En's memories contained no meaning for the countdown, this time the number had dropped unusually sharply.

Just two days ago, when Xiao En had come in, the number had been 135—now, after the quarterly meeting, it had plummeted to 34 days.

If the pattern held—a single adjustment per quarter—then the number 34 might mean Schultz and the others had finalized their plan and had begun the final countdown.

"Xiao En."

Schultz's voice interrupted Wu Chang's thoughts.

Wu Chang looked at Schultz, who continued:

"I gave you a year. During that time, I granted you many permissions and assistance—but your performance still hasn't met even the minimum standard for a Level 8 employee."

"Perhaps you truly aren't suited for this company. I've prepared two paths for you. If you prefer your old life, I've bought you a vast farm and ranch—enough land to grow or raise anything you like."

"If you want to stay in the city, I can arrange a political marriage—afterward, whether you enter politics or indulge in leisure, it's up to you."

"Go back and hand over your duties. Tell me your answer by weekend."

If this weren't a副本, and he'd met such a cousin, Wu Chang would have dropped to his knees, hugging Schultz's leg and calling him "Father."

But this was a副本—he still had to complete the main quest—so he did what Xiao En never would: he defied Schultz's decision.

"I want to try again."

Schultz looked at Wu Chang and asked calmly, "Why?"

Wu Chang closed his eyes, accessing the original owner's memories, then slightly embellished them before speaking:

"I've always wanted to leave this place—but when you just told me to go, I felt a stubborn unwillingness. I'm not sure if the life I liked was truly what I wanted, or if I only liked it because it was easy."

"I want to try one last time—to find the answer inside me."

Schultz's face showed a rare smile, as if watching his unruly child finally put down their phone and pick up a textbook.

Though the smile vanished instantly, Wu Chang was certain: Schultz had indeed smiled.

"Fine. I'll give you another half-month."

Schultz didn't say what would happen if Wu Chang still failed after half a month—but both knew perfectly well.

Wu Chang immediately pledged: "I'll do my best."

Schultz picked up the book on the desk, opened it to the page marked by the bookmark, and said:

"Go back to work."

Wu Chang left the CEO's office, stepped into the elevator, and exhaled deeply in relief.

He'd assumed becoming department manager meant a lucky start—only to face immediate risk of termination. At least he'd faked his way through.

Now, he had to secure a large enough order as soon as possible.

Back in his office, he sat in his chair, flipping through documents while pondering the current intelligence.

Right now, he needed to handle two things: 保住 his position, and deal with the Iron Armor Gang.

In half a month, if he didn't secure enough orders, he would absolutely be purged from the company by Schultz.

Speaking of Schultz, in Xiao En's memory he was the very embodiment of absolute rationality, a super academic genius with a photographic memory.

This meeting, Wu Chang discovered that Schultz was not only sharp-minded, his strength was nothing to scoff at either.

He could sense from Schultz a stat value no inferior to Fei Guang's, yet he could not get a read on Schultz's bottom line; there was some special power on the other man's body that could withstand his 139-point Inspiration perception.

He vaguely sensed that the Sanctum Corporation instance was not as simple as it appeared on the surface.

On the surface, Sanctum Corporation was an instance that had just entered the brink of losing control, but Wu Chang's intuition told him this instance's difficulty would be no lower than the Silent Route.

One had to remember, within the Silent Route there existed the remains of an evil god.

The two instances were of similar difficulty, yet within the Sanctum Corporation instance, there might not be a local demigod like the Sea God General to help him, nor an Earthly Divine Kingdom ritual for him to pluck the fruit, nor Aileen to seek as off-site support.

The difficulty of the instance itself was one trouble, and the trouble brought by the Iron Armor Regiment was no small matter either.

After the previous actions of Fei Guang and others, Wu Chang could be one hundred percent certain that the Iron Armor Regiment's objective in entering the instance was absolutely not some class transfer.

Unless they had also gouged out one of Lehmann's eyes, and possessed a prop similar to the Mortal Poison, capable of strengthening into a unique hidden class transfer imbued with Authority.

Otherwise, what class transfer would be worth their preparing so thoroughly, to the point that at the slightest disagreement they would chase down and kill members of the Four Great Organizations.

One had to remember, before making a move, Burke had merely expressed unwillingness to leave the instance; he had not said he would definitely ruin the Iron Armor Regiment's plans. If it were only for a class transfer, then with the Iron Armor Regiment's numerical advantage and strength advantage, they could easily and safely take the class transfer.

To go this far could only indicate that the gains of whatever the Iron Armor Regiment sought far exceeded offending the Four Great Organizations.

They were a second-rate cancerous organization — where did they get their intelligence, and where did they get their底气?

No need to think to know, it must be inseparable from the mysterious force that had hired Lei Hu.

Wu Chang pressed his palms together, fingers interlaced, and gave them a slight rub.

How does that saying go? Heavenly materials and earthly treasures belong to the virtuous.

Isn't this running right into one?

Mentioning the Iron Armor Regiment, Wu Chang could not help but think of the intelligence they were seeking on the bounty board.

"Purchasing three pieces of core classified intelligence regarding 'Sanctum Corporation,' each worth one hundred fifty thousand Corrupted Silver Coins."

The so-called three pieces of classified intelligence, based on the information in Xiao En's memory, should correspond to the three outside speculations about Sanctum Corporation.

The manufacturing method of Sanctum Corporation's special armaments, the rumored existence of a super laboratory, and Sanctum Corporation's conspiracy of desiring to rule the world by means of Outcast Monsters.

One piece of information worth one hundred fifty thousand Corrupted Silver Coins was enough to show how much importance the Iron Armor Regiment attached to these three pieces of information.

Perhaps, by starting with these three pieces of information, he could discover exactly what the Iron Armor Regiment was plotting.

Just as he was thinking, the secretary walked into the office and said:

"Manager Xiao En, there is an interview tomorrow; the candidate's résumé was just sent to you by HR."

Wu Chang nodded and said: "Understood."

Department managers directly participating in interviews was a tradition of Sanctum Corporation.

He entered Sanctum Corporation's office system, opened the interview résumé, and after casually flipping through a few pages, his expression turned strange.

He had just been mulling over how to investigate the Iron Armor Regiment's secrets, and he hadn't expected these fellows to deliver themselves right to his doorstep.

(End of this chapter)