Chapter 1

Just because I went five minutes over the company's bathroom limit,

my boss said I violated company policy.

Not only did he dock my entire paycheck, but he also saddled me with a three-hundred-thousand-dollar debt.

I refused to accept it and took my complaint to the labor board.

In response, my boss produced a document he had tricked us into signing, doubling my debt to six hundred thousand.

Left with no choice, I worked multiple jobs day and night.

Before I could even pay off the principal, hundreds of thousands more piled up in interest.

In the end, my boss forcibly shipped me off to an overseas scam mill in Southeast Asia to work off the balance.

Because I couldn't bring myself to con innocent people out of their life savings, I was beaten to death.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my boss installed surveillance cameras in the restrooms.

To cut down on the time employees spent in the bathroom during work hours, the company spent seventy-five thousand dollars importing a batch of high-tech surveillance gear.

They rigged every single entrance, exit, and stall.

The camera angles were meticulous—full 360-degree coverage, completely eliminating any blind spots.

To top it off, they thoughtfully mounted a giant display monitor in the main office, broadcasting a daily leaderboard ranking everyone's bathroom time.

That day, I made the mistake of drinking milk that had expired that morning.

My stomach churned violently. I bolted to the restroom and let nature take its brutal course. When I finally dragged myself out, I realized I had gone five minutes over the limit.

The very next day, an all-company email went out.

Five minutes over the limit. A fine of $300,000.

Attached to the email was a snapshot of my face, twisted in absolute agony on the toilet, put on full, humiliating display for every single one of my coworkers.

I thought it was just a sick, twisted joke until Sandra from payroll walked up to me with a deadpan expression.

"The company already took out a personal loan under your name through the bank. You have thirty days to pay it back in full."

Furious, I stormed straight into the boss's office to confront him.

Richard slammed a contract onto his desk.

"I don't care who you cry to, that fine stands. You took out that loan yourself. What does that have to do with the company?"

Trembling with rage, I sprinted to the bank demanding an explanation.

The loan officer coldly tossed a signed agreement in front of me. There it was, in black and white—my signature.

That was when it hit me. On the day I installed the cameras, management had made me sign a form called a "Personal Information Security Guarantee." The trap had been laid right there.

"Thirty days," the loan officer said. "Then collection starts. That guarantee you signed lets us come after everything you own."

My vision blurred.

I had busted my ass at this company for three straight years, taking home a measly thirty-five hundred a month.

Between living expenses and the mortgage, I was already relying on my aging parents to scrape by.

Money was tight enough as it was, and now I was suddenly buried under a three-hundred-thousand-dollar hole.

I dragged myself home in complete despair. When my wife, Lily, heard the news, she broke down instantly. Without saying another word to me, she packed her bags and left for her parents' place.

Three days later, I was served with divorce papers.

Broken and defeated, I agreed. On the day we went to finalize the paperwork at the courthouse, Lily stepped out of Richard's luxury car, sporting a radiant smile.

Rage erupted inside me. I confronted them on the spot, demanding to know how long they had been sleeping together.

Richard wrapped an arm around my wife's waist and shoved me back with a sneer.

"Leo, a loser who can't even hold his bowels at work will never amount to anything. If I were you, I'd walk away with nothing while you still can."

Seeing red, I threw a punch that knocked him flat on his ass.

Lily shrieked, clawing at my hair, and called the cops on me.

At the station, once the officer heard the whole story, he patted me on the shoulder with a look of genuine sympathy.

I'd already complained to the labor board about the fine. Richard retaliated by adding another $300,000 to the balance, waving the same agreement in my face. The bank officer backed his version of events. I couldn't see how I'd ever pay it off.

I had to start doing gig deliveries after work, grinding until three in the morning every single night.

I hit up every friend and acquaintance for loans while dodging dozens of debt collection calls a day.

Unable to pay, I was abducted and trafficked to an overseas compound in Southeast Asia.

Only seconds before dying did I realize the whole thing had been a premeditated trap set by my boss.

As I lay dying, I remembered the last time I'd seen Lily and Richard before I was abducted. They'd been holding hands outside the office, laughing as I passed.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day the company was installing the bathroom cameras.