February 7, 2032 | 05:30 PM | Samut Prakan, Thailand Inside a factory office
The late afternoon atmosphere was humming with the usual office routine.
“Thanks, Mook! Because of you, the system is finally back up. Now we don’t have to stay for the night shift anymore,” Rin, a female colleague sitting next to him, said with a bright smile as she began packing her belongings.
“No problem,” Mook—or Chonlanon Maneenual— replied with a modest nod. A small spark of pride flickered in his chest as he gathered his own things.
“Bye-bye, Mr. Jon! Looking as handsome as ever today!” Rin’s voice chirped toward Jon, a foreign programmer who was strolling past her desk.
Jon looked like he had just stepped off the pages of a high-end fashion magazine. He had a perfectly sculpted face with a sharp, high-bridged nose. His grayish-blue eyes always seemed to sparkle with a playful charm. His dark blonde hair was meticulously styled, complemented by a light stubble that made him look both sophisticated and sexy at the same time. He wore a crisp, light-blue dress shirt that accentuated his broad shoulders, making him stand out from everyone else in the office.
“Bye-bye,” Jon replied, flashing a warm, charming smile.
However, as Jon walked past Mook, his expression turned cold and indifferent—a stark contrast to the warmth he showed everyone else. Mook ignored him just as coldly. The catalyst for this silent war was simple: they were both programmers. Jon had been there longer but had never been able to fix the system crashes that plagued the office for hours. Mook, on the other hand, had solved the issue within just six months of joining. Jon’s pride had been wounded, and his resentment toward Mook was palpable.
“Mook, did you find the root of the problem?” Tor, the IT Manager, asked as he stopped behind Mook. Tor was a middle-aged man who maintained a dignified yet kind appearance.
“Yes, sir. It’s coming from a program called 'SendDataToStore',” Mook answered confidently.
“Hmm...” Manager Tor paused, thinking. “Isn't that the program Jon wrote? Can you prove it’s really coming from that?”
“I can. I’ve identified the specific command string that causes the system to hang. If it happens again tomorrow, I’ll call you over to see it for yourself.”
“Excellent. Thanks for making my life a lot easier.” Mook smiled at the praise before heading to the fingerprint scanner, leaving work with a good feeling.
***
The following afternoon... Inside a meeting room packed with department managers, Tor had invited representatives from the affected departments to witness the proof.
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“There it is. The command string from the program is being sent now,” Mook stood at the front, pointing a laser at the large screen displaying rows of scrolling code. He waited calmly, letting the evidence speak for itself.
Several managers immediately called their teams on the floor. The answers were unanimous: “The system just froze, sir/ma'am.”
“I see... so it really is Jon’s program,” Ek, the senior executive for the Thailand branch, murmured as he crossed his arms. He turned to the foreign man and asked in English, “Jon, is that program essential?”
“It’s a backup program for pulling transaction data,” Jon replied in English, his tone flat and unbothered.
“Can we shut it down for now?”
“Yes, you can close it. If it fails or encounters an error, the system is designed to restart itself every two hours anyway.”
“Mook...” Executive Ek turned back to Mook, speaking in Thai. “Do you know exactly how it’s causing the crash? And how did you fix it?”
“Yes, sir. The program consumes an enormous amount of system resources. When the hardware overheats and fails to complete the task, it leaves the database connection open, creating a bottleneck. My solution was to intercept the command strings, reorganize them to be more concise, and optimize the execution so it runs on minimal resources. Then, it sends the result back to the program to satisfy the requirement and closes the connection immediately.”
“Hmm... Impressive,” Ek praised him. “And does your solution require constant monitoring?”
“Give me two days, sir. I’ll turn it into a fully automated system,” Mook replied with a proud, confident smile.
In that moment, Mook was genuinely happy. He was doing what he loved and was finally being recognized for his worth. But he didn't realize that his happiness would be short-lived. By exposing the truth in that meeting, he had publicly humiliated the "Golden Boy" sent directly from the headquarters.
***
April 4, 2032 | 10:30 AM | Inside Manager Tor’s private office...
“I’m so sorry, Mook. This was the best I could do,” Manager Tor said, his voice heavy with sadness as he patted Mook’s shoulder. It was the day Mook was abruptly notified of his termination. “Here... I’ve written you a glowing recommendation letter.”
“Thank you,” Mook replied, his face a mask of controlled emotion. He fought to suppress the turmoil within. In truth, he wanted to scream and demand justice, but instead, he simply reached out to take the certificate that detailed his excellent performance.
“Thank you truly for making our jobs easier. And this... the other department managers chipped in for you,” Tor handed him a white envelope filled with cash. “Thank you so much.”
Mook took the envelope and gave a small nod before walking out of the room in silence. He carried the weight of unshed tears deep inside. He was devastated to leave the job he had poured his heart into, but he told himself to be strong. He walked out of the office looking as normal as possible, refusing to let a single tear be seen.
“Mr. Jon is so handsome every single day...” The whispers of the office girls drifted from the window as they watched the foreign man ride past on his cool big bike.
Mook, walking by, clenched his teeth so hard they ached. His hand crushed the white envelope until it was wrinkled and distorted. He was trapped in the same cycle again... When the system crashed and the girls had to stay late, Jon was the cause. Yet, because he was handsome, everyone was ready to forgive and admire him daily. Meanwhile, the man who fixed the problem so everyone could go home early was the one being fired—simply because he had offended a "handsome" man’s ego.
"Handsome, no matter what..."
