When He Accused Me of Theft, I Saw a Blessing

The topping-out ceremony for the commercial high-rise was just around the corner, when I suddenly realized the blueprint dimensions were all wrong.

Demolishing and rebuilding would cost a cool ten billion.

I clung to the rooftop railing, contemplating which spot on the ground would offer the least pain.

But then, Manager Walter, flanked by his engineering team, kicked my door open:

"At this critical juncture of the project, you, the chief designer, have been skipping out every day to fool around with escorts!"

"And those blueprints? They're just stolen copies of mine!"

"You're fired! I'm the new head of this project, and all design patents are now mine!"

My eyes widened, and the despair in my heart instantly morphed into wild joy.

Oh, right, I was totally busy with dates all this time. The wrong dimensions? Not my problem in the slightest!

The twenty-story commercial high-rise was almost topped out, and I was giving the blueprints one final check.

My hand trembled, spilling coffee all over the desk.

Because Id just discovered that the dimensions for every single load-bearing wall were wrong!

My heart pounded in my chest.

I wiped my eyes, checked it twenty more times, and then, with a sigh, surrendered to the truth.

Yep, definitely wrong!

This twenty-story commercial building, from design to construction, and even the future investment and leasing, had cost a staggering ten billion dollars.

If we had to tear it down and rebuild, I wouldn't be able to pay it back if I sold myself eight hundred times over.

I squatted on my chair, clutching my head, wanting to cry but no tears came.

Wanting to scream but no sound escaped.

As a celebrated architectural designer in the country,

My work had won numerous international awards, earned investors billions, and left iconic landmarks in this city.

But what did that matter now?

I had failed, defeated by a load-bearing wall with an error of just a few inches.

My parents were counting on me for their retirement, and my sister was about to take her college entrance exams. She always said her big brother was her pride.

But this one mistake, my blunder, would bring devastating consequences down on them.

I truly deserved to die!

I was a sinner, having squandered everyone's hard work, and condemned myself to eternal damnation.

After much thought, I finally stood up, pushed open the door to the rooftop, and walked to the railing.

Twenty stories. High enough.

The people below looked like tiny ants.

I pondered which side to jump from, to avoid scaring anyone while suffering as little as possible.

Suddenly, the door behind me burst open with a loud bang.

My arch-rival, Walter Stone, marched in with a whole team of people.

"Arthur Lynn! You've really outdone yourself!"

He stormed up to me, his voice a furious torrent.

I froze, thinking he'd discovered the design flaw.

Just as I was about to explain, he slapped a stack of photos right into my face.

"Have you no shame? At this critical stage of the project, you, the chief designer, have been sneaking off every day to cavort with those cheap massage parlor girls!"

I was confused, picking up a few photos from the floor.

They showed a man and a woman, in various suggestive poses.

The man was me, but I didn't recognize the woman.

Still, I instantly knew these images were all AI-generated.

Because these past few months, desperate to finish the project, I hadn't slept for days, having no time to go anywhere.

I frowned and tried to reason with him.

"Walter Stone, you must have the wrong person. Don't make such baseless accusations!"

But he sneered:

"Don't play innocent!"

"Your design blueprints are just stolen copies of mine!"

"You're fired! And all design patents for this project are now mine!"

He pulled out a draft blueprint, identical to mine, even down to the exact dimensions of the load-bearing walls.

But in the designer's section, his name was written.

I looked and looked, thought and thought.

Suddenly, in that hopeless abyss, I caught a faint scent of hope.

Walter smiled, looking at me:

"Arthur Lynn, you're a fraud! A scumbag like you doesn't deserve to lead this project!"

"I've already spoken to the investors. They want you out immediately!"

I was silent for a moment, then slowly spoke:

"I poured my heart and soul into this project. What right do you have to kick me out?"

Walter's grin widened.

He deliberately patted my face, his voice dripping with condescension:

"The right of your plagiarism, your dereliction of duty, and the fact that I am now the overall head of this project!"

As he finished, his phone buzzed. It was an internal company email, copied to all employees.

It stated:

Project Lead for "Skyline Pinnacle" Commercial High-Rise changed to Walter Stone. Arthur Lynn is terminated for unprofessional conduct and plagiarism of core designs. Arthur Lynn will have no further association with the "Skyline Pinnacle" project.

Normally, a project nearing completion wouldn't change its lead.

It was like tending a field for a year, only for the land to change owners just before harvest.

No one would be happy about that.

But I was different. I desperately wanted to sever all ties with this project.

I called Chairman Goodwin, but he didn't pick up.

Then I called President Foster. The moment he answered, I heard him erupt in a furious shout:

"Arthur Lynn, you're fired! You have nothing to do with this commercial high-rise project anymore!"

He hung up. When I tried to call back, he had already blocked my number.

Walter watched me, relishing my misfortune:

"See? Does anyone still care about you?"

He pulled out a document:

"Arthur, be smart. Sign this and get lost."

"Otherwise, I'll not only ruin your reputation, but I'll also expose your dirty little secrets to your sister. Let her see what kind of a lowlife her 'good brother' really is."

My hands trembled as I picked up the document, my eyes instantly welling up.

Not with sadness, but with exhilaration.

Because that document contained a joint statement.

Arthur Lynn has no connection whatsoever to the "Skyline Pinnacle" Commercial High-Rise project. All architectural design patents and construction advice are unrelated to him.

My heart was bursting with joy, but I dared not show it on my face.

"Slander! This is pure slander! Walter, you say I've been fooling around with escorts every day, do you have any proof?"

My eyes were bloodshot, my whole body shaking.

Walter glanced at his phone, a smug smile playing on his lips:

"Proof? It's right there in your office."

A whole crew of them marched back to my office.

Pushing open the door, I froze.

A young woman in a revealing outfit was sitting in my chair. Seeing me, she immediately pounced and clung to my arm.

"Mr. Lynn! You have to take responsibility for me!"

I yanked my arm away from her:

"Who are you? I don't even know you!"

The woman's eyes reddened, and she latched back onto me:

"How can you be like this? For the past six months, you've been coming to me every day, saying you couldn't live without me. Now that the project is almost finished, you're just going to turn your back on me?"

Many colleagues started pointing and whispering about me.

"Mr. Lynn always seemed so proper. Can't believe he's into that kind of thing."

"I knew that design wasn't his style. Turns out it was Walter's all along."

"They called him a genius designer? I say he's nothing but a wolf in sheep's clothing!"

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to calm down:

"I've been working overtime in this office for the past six months. There are cameras everywhere. How could I possibly be going out to see you every day?"

Walter laughed, slowly pulling out his phone:

"Didn't you know? The surveillance on this floor has been broken for ages."

I blurted out,

"Impossible!"

"I checked the surveillance footage last week to find some files. It was working perfectly."

Walter shrugged: "Don't believe me? Call and ask right now."

I immediately dialed the security office.

"Hey, Old Brown, are the surveillance videos from the last three months still available?"

"Oh, Mr. Lynn, all the videos have been deleted, and the hard drives formatted."

My hand trembled slightly:

"Even if they're deleted, what about the logs? They can still be recovered within seven days, right?"

The sound of furious typing came from the other end of the line. After a moment of silence, the voice returned:

"No, Mr. Lynn. The system shows the logs were completely overwritten. Even the past seven days can't be recovered."

I hung up, and Walter's laughter grew even more unrestrained:

"Hear that? You haven't shown up for work for the past six months. There's no record of you in the surveillance footage."

I stared at him, saying each word deliberately:

"Even without surveillance, the documents I signed can't be faked. Every design change order, every material confirmation sheetaren't they all signed by me?"

Walter clapped his hands:

"Right, you mentioned it, and I almost forgot."

He turned and walked to the file cabinet in the corner, pulling open the bottom drawer.

A murky mess of black stuff floated in water, completely unrecognizable.

"Tsk, tsk. What a coincidence, wouldn't you say? The water pipe burst last week, and all the files in that cabinet got soaked."

Walter shook his head regretfully.

All the drawers in my office had keys, yet Walter had opened them with ease.

I glanced at Michael, my secretary, who immediately looked away, guilty.

I clenched my fists, my nails almost digging into my flesh.

It was too damn coincidental.

So coincidental that every step was planned, so coincidental that even the water damage was precisely placed.

They had plotted this all along, but alas, they were too clever for their own good.

The strange woman leaned in again, reaching for me:

"Mr. Lynn, you can't just disown me now. My belly might be carrying..."

"Get out!"

I roared, and the entire floor fell silent.

The woman recoiled two steps, startled, and Walter's expression shifted.

I looked at a familiar figure in the crowd.

"Michael, come here."

Michael Lee had been with me since his first day at the company.

Back then, he couldn't even read blueprints. I taught him CAD firsthand, and I stayed up late guiding him through design revisions.

He was careless and once lost client files, and it was me who cleaned up his mess.

He slowly walked to my side, but wouldn't look up at me.

Walter recovered, putting on his usual smirking face:

"Perfect, Michael. Tell everyone, has Mr. Lynn been doing his job these past six months?"

Michael kept his head down:

"Mr. Lynn wasn't often in the office."

I stared at him, incredulous:

"What did you say?"

He glanced at me, then continued:

"There were a few times I went to find him for a signature, and he wasn't there. Later, I saw one of Walter's blueprints on his desk."

"I even asked him about it at the time, and he said he was just 'referencing' it. I never thought he was outright plagiarizing."

A murmur of shock rippled through the crowd.

I laughed, tears streaming down my face.

"Michael Lee, I taught you for three years. Is this how you repay me?"

He finally looked up, his eyes red.

But his words were sharper than ever:

"Arthur, I can't lie against my conscience."

"That design was completely copied from Walter. I saw it with my own eyes."

"And for this entire period, you weren't in the office. All the company's work was held up by Walter alone."

Walter patted his shoulder, a show of false concern:

"Alright, Michael, you're just speaking the truth. No need to feel guilty."

I looked at the two of them, a bitter laugh escaping me:

"Fine, excellent! You're really good at throwing people under the bus!"

"You, and you, all of you, remember this moment!"

No one took my words seriously.

Michael even seemed relieved, thinking I was just making empty threats.

Walter once again slammed the agreement in front of me.

"Sign it, quickly."

I picked up the agreement and publicly read out the most crucial line:

"Arthur Lynn has no connection whatsoever to the 'Skyline Pinnacle' Commercial High-Rise project. All architectural design and construction advice are completely unrelated to him."

"Walter, think carefully about the consequences. If this project has problems in the future, you'll be solely responsible. Are you sure you want me to sign this?"

Walter's eyes flickered, as if in thought.

Michael, beside him, urged him on:

"Manager Walter, he's just trying to provoke you. Besides, the project's almost done. What could possibly go wrong?"

Walter nodded in agreement, then looked at me:

"Stop talking nonsense, sign it!"

With red eyes and a heavy heart, I scrawled my name.

Two copies.

I pocketed my copy, my face grim.

Then I turned and walked away.

Behind me, I heard Walter's triumphant voice:

"Arthur Lynn, you're nothing special, are you?"

I stopped, turned back, and looked at him:

"Don't celebrate too soon!"

"When the good times end, the bad times begin. Don't come crying to me then!"