The night was as thick as spilled ink, and the glass curtain walls on the top floor of Federation Corp’s headquarters reflected the distant lights of the colonial fleet, like a row of greedy eyes overlooking the ruins on the planet’s surface. Inside, the harsh white lights were blinding. The long table in the center was covered with star charts and data terminals, and the air was filled with the scent of metal and disinfectant. Ethan Cross stood by the window, hands in his pockets, his brow furrowed. His tall figure exuded exhaustion, and his gaze pierced through the glass, landing on a plunder ship slowly ascending in the distance.

  Victor Kane sat at the head of the conference table, his suit impeccable, his fingers tapping the surface leisurely. A habitual faint smile played on his lips, but his eyes glinted with a cold light. Around the table sat several board members, each wearing a cautious expression. Some buried their heads in investment reports, not daring to make a sound, while others stole glances at Victor, their palms sweating with tension. Only Derek Voss—a scrawny man with sly, gleaming eyes—held a coffee cup, sidling up to Victor with a fawning smile. He lowered his voice, “Boss Kane, this colonial plan is a real game-changer! Once we tap into that resource planet’s minerals, our fleet can expand threefold, and the entire system’s resource distribution will be in your hands. This move not only solves our current resource crisis but also forces those smaller companies to come begging for partnerships, giving us a total monopoly on the market! It’s a strategy that kills two birds with one stone!”

  Ethan let out a cold snort and turned around, his voice low but unable to suppress his anger. “Threefold fleet expansion? Are you planning to burn the entire system to ashes, Victor? There are three hundred million civilians on that planet—are you really going to turn them all into slaves?”

  Victor’s fingers froze mid-tap, his smile unchanged, but his tone grew colder. “Ethan, you’re still so naive. Civilians? They’re just numbers. This universe is a game for the strong. If we don’t seize resources, we’ll be the ones crushed underfoot.” He stood, walking over to the star chart and pointing at the glowing resource planet. “Look at this data—rare metal reserves enough to build ten headquarters like this one. You want to let it go? I don’t.”

  Ethan clenched his fists. He’s lost his mind. We built this company together to make humanity’s lives better, not to turn us into a pack of plundering beasts.

  He recalled a memory from ten years ago: he and Victor crammed into a rundown workshop, the air thick with the smell of engine oil and welding sparks. On the table lay the blueprint for their first ship, its edges yellowed from sweat. Victor had clapped him on the shoulder, his eyes shining like starlight. “Ethan, this ship will take humanity farther—it’ll become a symbol of peace and prosperity for everyone.”

  The memory of Victor’s voice overlapped with the image of the cold-blooded businessman before him, snapping Ethan back to reality.

  He took a deep breath, struggling to keep his anger in check. “Federation Corp is already strong enough. Plundering will only breed rebellion. Aren’t you afraid the entire system will unite against us?” Unconsciously, he touched the scar hidden beneath his shirt on his chest—a permanent reminder of the lab accident three years ago. “Do you remember that explosion in the lab, Victor? I was trapped in the burning workshop, and you rushed in to drag me out. Back then, you told me we were building Federation Corp to make people’s lives better, not to make them suffer. How could you forget that so completely?”

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  For a fleeting moment, Victor’s expression softened, as if touched by the memory, but it quickly hardened again. He stepped closer to Ethan, his voice low. “That accident was exactly what made me see reality, Ethan. When the engine exploded and the flames consumed everything, I learned a lesson—in this universe, kindness is a luxury. I risked my life to save you because you were valuable to the company, not out of some noble sentiment. I told you back then, ‘No matter how good the idea, it’s useless if you’re dead,’ remember? Sometimes, tough choices have to be made.”

  Ethan frowned, the scar on his chest throbbing faintly. “That’s not the same, Victor. Saving me is one thing—plundering an entire planet is another. Since when did ‘tough choices’ become your excuse for cruelty?”

  Victor scoffed, turning to stare at him, mockery flashing in his eyes. “Rebellion? Who would dare? Those ragtag fighters don’t even have a decent ship. One move from my colonial army, and they’re done for.” He paused, his tone darkening. “Ethan, don’t forget—this company was built by both of us. If you go against me, don’t blame me for not honoring old ties.”

  Derek interjected, his voice sharp like a knife scraping glass. “Exactly, Mr. Cross, your thinking is too conservative! Boss Kane’s strategic vision is unmatched! Look, with these resources, we can not only expand our military advantage but also control the entire system’s energy distribution. Other companies will have to bow to us, and we’ll set the prices for interstellar trade—the profits will be unimaginable! Even if there’s some minor unrest, with our strength, we can easily crush it. Why worry about those insignificant risks?” He glanced at Ethan. He really thinks he’s some kind of savior? Boss Kane has been fed up with him for a while—I need to pick the right side and grab some benefits.

  Ethan shot Derek a look, disgust flashing in his eyes. This guy, always spouting nonsense—I never should’ve let him into the tech department. He turned back to Victor, his voice hard as steel. “I’m not against expansion, but plundering and colonizing aren’t the only way. We can negotiate, cooperate, buy the resources from that planet, and give them a chance to rebuild. If you insist on using force, I’m out.”

  Victor’s smile finally vanished. He slowly approached Ethan, shorter by half a head but exuding an oppressive aura, his voice low as if squeezed from his throat. “Out? You think this company can’t function without you? I’ll give you one last chance, Ethan—either work with me, or get out.”

  The room fell so silent that breathing could be heard. The executives lowered their heads, some nervously shuffling already-neat papers, others pretending to focus on terminal data, terrified of being dragged into the storm. The silence was deafening as the executives played dead, while Derek could barely contain his excitement. Fight, fight—best if they break completely, then I can climb a bit higher!

  Ethan stared at Victor, the memory of their past flashing through his mind one last time—the ship lifting off, the two of them standing on the deck, the wind tousling their hair as Victor laughed, “We’ll be legends of the system.” That light from back then had now turned into cold, ruthless calculation.

  He gritted his teeth. I can’t let him destroy everything, even if it costs me my life—I have to stop him. He spoke slowly, each word deliberate. “Fine, I’ll leave. But mark my words, Victor—the path you’ve chosen today will come back to haunt you.”

  He turned, pushed the door open, and walked out, his footsteps echoing in the empty corridor. Victor watched his retreating figure, a cold smirk on his lips as he muttered to himself, “Haunt me? We’ll see about that, Ethan.”