Night descended. A yellow warning line was drawn outside Unity Tech's Core Workshop 3.
Tonight, there was no roar of machinery here—only a suffocating standoff. Over three hundred frontline workers facing the layoffs, led by Marx, had sealed the workshop doors tight with their flesh and scrap metal. They wore red armbands, their eyes filled with the absolute resolve of the desperate.
"Unless the layoff list is revoked, no one steps foot into the server room!" Marx stood on a high steel scaffold, his voice hoarse but ringing like a bell.
Below the scaffold, Nietzsche stood with over a hundred heavily armed security personnel, watching the scene with icy detachment. Beside Nietzsche stood the Head of Security, Hobbes (ESTJ). This iron-fisted man, who believed that 'human nature is inherently evil and power is order,' toyed with a high-voltage stun baton in his hand. There was no pity in his eyes. "Vice President, just say the word. My men can clear out these rioters in three minutes. Order must be built upon fear."
"Clear them out." A fanatic, ruthless gleam flashed in Nietzsche's eyes. He believed in the Übermensch; he would never compromise with the tears of the weak.
...
At this moment, the screen split into two. One half showed the explosive standoff at the workshop; the other half displayed the General Manager's office on the top floor of the corporate tower.
Machiavelli stood before the massive floor-to-ceiling window, looking down at the ant-like crowds confronting each other below. Behind him sat the cold and aloof HR Director, Schopenhauer (ENTP).
"Life is but a blind desire. Satisfied, it brings boredom; unsatisfied, it brings pain." Schopenhauer flipped through the layoff list, a toxic, mocking smile curving his lips. "Watching those fools down there risk their lives for a few copper coins... it is truly pathetic."
"No, they are not pathetic. They are perfect pawns." Machiavelli turned around, the cold light of the monitors reflecting off his gold-rimmed glasses. He pressed a hidden communicator on his desk, his voice gentle yet spine-chilling: "Cut the backup power to Workshop 3. Remember, make it look like a short circuit caused by the workers' riot."
Schopenhauer lifted his eyelids. "You want them to lose control and trample each other in the dark? Borrowing a knife to kill?"
"Nietzsche wants efficiency, Marx wants fairness, but what I want is absolute control." Machiavelli adjusted his cuffs. "As long as blood is spilled tonight and the police are alarmed, Marx will go to prison for 'inciting a riot'. And Nietzsche? He will be dismissed by the board for 'causing a violent tragedy during layoffs'." He smiled faintly, as if admiring a masterpiece of art. "Using a single drop of blood to simultaneously eliminate the obstacle to reform and a subordinate whose power threatens the throne. This is the art of power."
...
[Unity Tech · Workshop 3]
BANG—! With a muffled, heavy thud, the floodlights in Workshop 3 instantly died!
"What's happening?!" "Power outage! They're forcing their way in!" The darkness acted as a catalyst, instantly detonating the suppressed terror in the workers' hearts. The crowd began to riot and shove.
"Hold the line! Don't panic!" Marx roared fiercely from the high scaffold, desperately trying to stabilize the situation. But at that very moment, using the cover of darkness, Nietzsche lunged up the scaffold like a hunting cheetah. He grabbed Marx by the collar. Their ideological clash materialized into the most primal physical brawl.
"Your mercy is destroying the company's future!" Nietzsche smashed his fist into Marx's cheek, roaring, "You want to talk to me about fairness? The survival of the fittest is the only fairness in this universe!" "You soulless machine!" Marx retaliated, pinning Nietzsche against the cold steel railing by his throat. "Climbing to the throne over the bones and blood of others—your evolution is completely worthless!"
The two men engaged in a frenzied struggle on the edge of the scaffold, neither willing to yield an inch.
Right then, hiding in the shadows, Security Chief Hobbes received Machiavelli's secret signal. With a cold sneer, he quietly pressed the trigger of the high-pressure water cannon in his hands. A powerful jet of water swept precisely toward the rusted, weak support pillar of the scaffold.
CRACK— The steel railing let out an agonizing groan as it snapped.
Marx slipped, his body instantly losing balance. Instinctively trying to shake off Marx's grip, Nietzsche violently swung his arm—
THUD! The sound of flesh crashing onto steel machinery from five meters high was infinitely magnified in the darkness.
The emergency lights flickered on with an eerie glow. Under the pale light, Marx lay in a pool of his own blood. His head had suffered severe trauma, and crimson blood meandered down the cold textures of the machinery. He twitched slightly, his eyes glaring fixedly at Nietzsche above him, before he completely lost consciousness.
Dead silence fell over the workshop. The workers broke down; the security personnel froze in their tracks. Nietzsche stood on the broken scaffold, staring at his bloodstained hands, his pupils contracting violently. He wanted evolution, but this was the first time he directly faced a death he had personally orchestrated.
I stood in the darkest corner of the workshop, quietly observing it all. No intervention. No salvation. I reached out my hand. In the air, a blood-red gleam of light, invisible to ordinary mortals, slowly coalesced into my palm. It was a heavy, diamond-shaped shard carrying anger and tragedy.
[Fragment of Meaning 1/1001: Bleeding Fairness]
"The first piece has been played," I murmured softly, looking at Nietzsche, who was sinking into self-doubt on the high platform, and Marx, lying in the pool of blood.
And at this moment—
[The High-Dimensional Observation Hall · Live Channel]
In front of the colossal holographic projection, the observation seats of the elites had completely exploded.
[Emperor's Seat | Cao Cao] (sneering and stroking his beard): "A fool's bravery. Nietzsche's blade is too sharp; it not only cuts others but breaks itself. He has no idea he just stepped into Machiavelli's death trap. Borrowing a knife to kill... I like this method."
[Business Seat | Rockefeller] (swirling his wine glass): "True masters never bloody their own hands. The moment Machiavelli cut the power, he had already won control of the entire company."
[Science Seat | Albert Einstein] (frowning deeply): "A terrifying calculation! Machiavelli exploited the optical blind spot of the environment and gravitational potential energy to make Nietzsche the perfect scapegoat of physics. But this violates the conservation of energy—power seized through conspiracy will inevitably suffer an even more violent backlash!"
The piercing wail of police sirens tore through the night sky above the factory. The flashing red and blue lights signaled the cruel prologue to this massacre named "Layoffs."
Machiavelli's dark web had already tightened, while I remained at the edge of this world, waiting for the next soul to shatter.