Chapter 5 Eyes Everywhere

"I was just reconnecting the loose power cord." Charles maintained his characteristic calm expression.

He could feel fear and dread, but he knew showing such emotions would only intensify the middle-aged man's suspicions.

"Working hours aren't meant for such trivial matters. Every second you waste represents a massive loss for the company!"

The man ignored Charles's explanation, continuing his stern reprimand.

"I promise it won't happen again, Supervisor Ethan." Charles spoke while his eyes quickly scanned the ID badge hanging from the man's chest.

"Again?" Ethan raised his hand and, in full view of the other employees, delivered a stinging slap across Charles's face.

Blood trickled from the corner of Charles's mouth, slowly merging with the earlier bloodstains from his nose.

"Please calm down, Supervisor Ethan. Charles is new here—it's understandable he doesn't know all the company rules yet."

Eddie stood up from his workstation, smiling genially as he positioned himself between them, subtly shielding Charles.

Ethan shot him a cold glance. "You have time to worry about others? Have you completed your own assignments?"

Eddie's smile instantly froze. He stammered, "Almost done. I'll definitely send the proposal to your inbox before closing time."

"Before closing time? As a TechFront employee, you should have submitted these proposals before lunch! How far have you gotten? Let me check!"

"I... I still need to organize them—" The more Eddie tried to explain, the more suspicious Ethan became.

They returned to Eddie's workstation, and after reviewing the "code" Eddie had written, Ethan's face turned to ice.

"This is what you call work? Did the company hire you to type random gibberish?"

The supervisor's voice was deafening, yet the other employees remained completely unaffected.

They resembled machines focused on their tasks, impervious to any external disruption.

"I want a complete and concise program proposal in my inbox before the end of the day. If you dare try to fool me like this again, don't bother coming in tomorrow!"

Ethan slammed his hand on the desk before standing up and heading toward the door.

As he left, he muttered, "Also, due to your poor performance, the company has decided to discipline you."

Charles noticed the supervisor pull a strange-looking button from his pocket and press it.

Immediately, Eddie clutched his head and collapsed to the floor, convulsing in agony.

"Hey, are you alright?" Charles stepped forward to check on Eddie's condition.

Eddie violently pushed his hand away, growling, "Leave me alone! Do your own work!"

Charles froze, said nothing more, and returned to his desk to continue his writing.

As Eddie had mentioned earlier, Charles was just a newcomer. This kind of devastating work inspection probably wouldn't target him yet.

Eddie struggled through his discomfort, slowly getting up from the floor and returning to his computer.

Under normal circumstances, he couldn't write a complete line of code, let alone now.

He opened his browser, hoping to find some references online that he could simply copy and paste.

But suddenly, his screen went black. A pair of cold, terrifying eyes gradually materialized in his field of vision.

He felt as if his entire bloodstream had instantly frozen.

As time passed, the eyes began to multiply, like some grotesque form of mitosis.

Soon, eyes were growing from the floor, the walls, the ceiling—even from his own body!

Eddie was terrified. He covered his eyes, desperately trying to escape the horrifying vision.

But there was no escape. Those eyes seemed rooted in the depths of his soul. Even when he closed his eyes, those uncanny pupils remained clearly visible.

Rapid, piercing beeps—like a death knell—sounded behind him.

Eddie trembled as he opened his work application, mumbling incoherently, "I'm working, I'm really working. Please stop haunting me!"

After saying this, he felt a sudden relief wash over him.

The countless eyes in his vision gradually disappeared.

He sighed with relief, preparing to input some simple code that even an amateur like himself could understand.

At that moment, Eddie felt something sticky against his palm.

Looking down, he discovered a warm, blood-covered eyeball somehow clutched in his hand.

The vision in his left eye had been completely engulfed by darkness.

...

Emerging from his creative state, Charles glanced at the time displayed in the lower right corner of his computer.

It was 4:30 PM—only thirty minutes until closing time.

"Great, just half an hour more!"

Supervisor Ethan had come by for another inspection.

Charles showed him the "code" he had prepared in advance.

It was actually just passages of his writing with special symbols added, but without careful examination, no one would notice any issues.

After Ethan left, Charles instinctively glanced toward Eddie's workstation.

Then he froze.

Eddie's head had swollen like a balloon to an extremely abnormal size.

Dark red blood vessels spread across his skin, resembling a spider's web or the cracks in dried earth.

Then Charles heard a loud pop.

Eddie's head burst open completely. Warm, pink-white matter splattered everywhere—some even landing on Charles's face!

He instinctively tried to scream, but no sound emerged. It felt as if someone had gripped his throat with terrible force.

Meanwhile, the surrounding employees maintained their indifferent expressions, like they hadn't noticed anything wrong at all.

Eddie remained slumped over his workstation as a headless corpse, never to awaken again.

Witnessing death firsthand—especially such a gruesome death—Charles began to retch uncontrollably.

While in his creative state, he could imagine crime scenes ten times bloodier than this and still remain calm.

But Charles now realized that outside that state, he was still just an ordinary person.

Suddenly, someone gently tapped his shoulder.

Charles jerked his head up to see Catherine staring at him with a grave expression.

"Your work for today is finished. Time to go home."

Charles breathed heavily, wiping the cold sweat from his forehead and checking the time. It was exactly 5:00 PM—he had somehow survived the grueling workday.