Reborn to Break the Rules

Just because I went five minutes over the company's bathroom limit, my boss said I violated company policy. Not only did he dock my entire paycheck, but he also saddled me with a three-hundred-thousand-dollar debt. I refused to accept it and took my complaint to the labor board. In response, my boss produced a document he had tricked us into signing, doubling my debt to six hundred thousand. Left with no choice, I worked multiple jobs day and night. Before I could even pay off the principal, hundreds of thousands more piled up in interest. In the end, my boss forcibly shipped me off to an overseas scam mill in Southeast Asia to work off the balance. Because I couldn't bring myself to con innocent people out of their life savings, I was beaten to death. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my boss installed surveillance cameras in the restrooms. To cut down on the time employees spent in the bathroom during work hours, the company spent seventy-five thousand dollars importing a batch of high-tech surveillance gear. They rigged every single entrance, exit, and stall. The camera angles were meticulous—full 360-degree coverage, completely eliminating any blind spots. To top it off, they thoughtfully mounted a giant display monitor in the main office, broadcasting a daily leaderboard ranking everyone's bathroom time. That day, I made the mistake of drinking milk that had expired that morning. My stomach churned violently. I bolted to the restroom and let nature take its brutal course. When I finally dragged myself out, I realized I had gone five minutes over the limit. The very next day, an all-company email went out. Five minutes over the limit. A fine of $300,000. Attached to the email was a snapshot of my face, twisted in absolute agony on the toilet, put on full, humiliating display for every single one of my coworkers. I thought it was just a sick, twisted joke until Sandra from payroll walked up to me with a deadpan expression. "The company already took out a personal loan under your name through the bank. You have thirty days to pay it back in full." Furious, I stormed straight into the boss's office to confront him. Richard slammed a contract onto his desk. "I don't care who you cry to, that fine stands. You took out that loan yourself. What does that have to do with the company?" Trembling with rage, I sprinted to the bank demanding an explanation. The loan officer coldly tossed a signed agreement in front of me. There it was, in black and white—my signature. That was when it hit me. On the day I installed the cameras, management had made me sign a form called a "Personal Information Security Guarantee." The trap had been laid right there. "Thirty days," the loan officer said. "Then collection starts. That guarantee you signed lets us come after everything you own." My vision blurred. I had busted my ass at this company for three straight years, taking home a measly thirty-five hundred a month. Between living expenses and the mortgage, I was already relying on my aging parents to scrape by. Money was tight enough as it was, and now I was suddenly buried under a three-hundred-thousand-dollar hole. I dragged myself home in complete despair. When my wife, Lily, heard the news, she broke down instantly. Without saying another word to me, she packed her bags and left for her parents' place. Three days later, I was served with divorce papers. Broken and defeated, I agreed. On the day we went to finalize the paperwork at the courthouse, Lily stepped out of Richard's luxury car, sporting a radiant smile. Rage erupted inside me. I confronted them on the spot, demanding to know how long they had been sleeping together. Richard wrapped an arm around my wife's waist and shoved me back with a sneer. "Leo, a loser who can't even hold his bowels at work will never amount to anything. If I were you, I'd walk away with nothing while you still can." Seeing red, I threw a punch that knocked him flat on his ass. Lily shrieked, clawing at my hair, and called the cops on me. At the station, once the officer heard the whole story, he patted me on the shoulder with a look of genuine sympathy. I'd already complained to the labor board about the fine. Richard retaliated by adding another $300,000 to the balance, waving the same agreement in my face. The bank officer backed his version of events. I couldn't see how I'd ever pay it off. I had to start doing gig deliveries after work, grinding until three in the morning every single night. I hit up every friend and acquaintance for loans while dodging dozens of debt collection calls a day. Unable to pay, I was abducted and trafficked to an overseas compound in Southeast Asia. Only seconds before dying did I realize the whole thing had been a premeditated trap set by my boss. As I lay dying, I remembered the last time I'd seen Lily and Richard before I was abducted. They'd been holding hands outside the office, laughing as I passed. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day the company was installing the bathroom cameras.My senses snapped back with a jolt. I looked up and saw Richard opening the delivery boxes full of surveillance equipment. My mind raced, and reality instantly clicked into place. The cameras weren't set up yet. And the "Personal Information Security Guarantee" sitting on my desk was still unsigned. The pen hovered in my hand. Just as I was about to read the fine print, a hand shot out and blocked my view. Sandra, the payroll manager, glared at me with impatient annoyance. "Leo, what's there to analyze? The company isn't going to screw you over. Just sign it already. Richard is waiting on you to mount the cameras." The workday was officially ending. In my past life, I was in such a rush to get home and cook dinner that I signed it blindly, only for Richard to trap me into working unpaid overtime to install the surveillance system. I had stayed up past midnight wiring every corner of the building. When I finally got back to my apartment complex, I was surprised to see Richard's car parked right outside the main gate. Before I could even make it to my front door, Lily called, demanding I go buy her artisanal pastries. I walked over a mile in the middle of the night to get them, only for her to say she didn't want them anymore. Any suspicion I felt was instantly crushed under the weight of her nagging: "I need a new designer bag." Looking back now, that whole late-night errand had been orchestrated so Richard could screw my wife in my own bed. Before walking away, Sandra reminded me to upload a copy of my ID. I cast a cold glance at Richard. He was on the phone, catching my eye with a nod and a smirk dripping with arrogance and mockery. With a swift stroke of the pen, I scribbled a fake signature across the bottom. Then, pulling out my phone, I scrolled through my camera roll, found the photo of Lily's ID, and uploaded it to the company portal. Kindness gets you trampled. Since this pair of scumbags wanted to drag me into hell, I'd make sure they got a front-row seat to the fire. I discreetly snapped photos of the paperwork, then took on the task of installing the cameras. I had dabbled in hardware and tech setups over the years, which was why Richard always treated me like free labor. But that free labor just handed me the keys to the kingdom. Once everyone had clocked out and left the building, I pocketed two wireless micro-cameras and tucked them away in discreet, shadowy corners of Richard's private office. I sped through the rest of the installation. The moment the job was done, I booked it home. On the way, I grabbed a bag of hot dumplings. Sure enough, as soon as I reached my apartment complex, Richard's car was sitting by the entrance. I took a step toward the lobby, and right on cue, my phone buzzed. It was Lily. On the other end of the line, she was panting, her voice breathless and uneven. "Aren't you working late? I want those dumplings from downtown. Go get them right now." I played along smoothly. "Oh man, that's pretty far out, babe. It's gonna take me a really long time to get back." I put extra weight on the words really long time. A sudden gasp slipped through the receiver. I feigned panic. "Babe, what happened? I'm coming right up!" The line went dead silent for a second before she snapped, "Nothing! I just bumped my head, okay? Go get the dumplings. Don't you dare come home until you have them." She hung up abruptly. I turned around, jogged out of the complex, and dialed a few old buddies from my wilder days. "Leo, man, what's the emergency?" I lowered my voice, sounding dead serious. "I think my wife's been taken hostage. The intruder is inside my apartment right now." The guys erupted into an immediate chorus of curses, knuckles cracking over the speaker. "Who the hell has the balls to cross you? Do they not know who you used to be on the streets? They called you the Butcher for a—" I lit a cigarette. "Cut the crap. We get in there, and you beat the intruder half to death." Having run with me for years, my boys knew exactly what kind of situation this really was. Looking menacing as hell, they followed me as I led them past the building's blind spots and straight to my front door. Without wasting a breath, I unlocked the deadbolt and pushed the door open. In the living room, two figures were tangled up on the couch, going at it like animals. Moans and heavy breathing echoed through the room. My boys exchanged glances, smirking. I took one long, hard drag off my cigarette butt. "What are you standing around for? Don't you see Lily's being held hostage?" "Beat his ass!"My boys swarmed the couch with savage grins, raining down a flurry of blows. These guys were street fighters. They knew precisely where to strike to cause blinding pain without breaking any major bones. Every punch and kick found its mark with brutal efficiency. "Stop! Stop hitting me!" Richard was pinned to the floor like a sack of wet garbage, squealing for mercy. I took a running start and drove a solid kick right into his ribs. "You cheating bitch! I knew you had a side piece! Let's see who this scumbag really is!" I hauled Richard up by his collar and cracked him across the face with a heavy backhand. His face was already a mosaic of black and blue, swollen so badly he was barely recognizable. "Leo! Look at me, you dumb piece of shit! Look who I am!" Enraged, Richard spat blood and words through broken teeth. I squinted at him, tilting my head left and right in exaggerated confusion, before slapping my thigh in sudden realization. "Oh, holy shit! Richard? Boss? What are you doing in my living room?" I hurriedly helped him up and shoved him onto the sofa. Lily had completely buried herself under a throw blanket. I didn't even spare her a glance; instead, I let my eyes drift down to Richard's crotch. Instinctively, he clamped both hands over his junk, stammering, "W-What do you think you're doing?" I stroked my chin, chuckling softly. "Nothing. Just... seems a little underwhelming down there, boss." "Leo!" Flushed scarlet with humiliation, Richard shot up, only to remember he was stark naked. He lunged forward to yank the blanket off the couch to cover himself. That sudden yank tore the blanket completely off Lily, exposing her face to the room. She stared at me. I stared at Richard. Richard stared at her. A perfect, awkward triangle. The room dropped to freezing temperatures. "How do you want to handle this? How much cash? Name a number." After a suffocating silence, Richard spoke up. Give the bastard credit—he still had some guts. I raised a hand sharply. Panic flared in his eyes and he flinched, throwing his arms up to block. The blanket slipped right off, exposing his pathetic package once again. "You're funny, boss. If you had the hots for my woman, you should've just told me. I would've gift-wrapped her and dropped her off at your place. No need for all this sneaking around." I lit another cigarette. My boys looked at each other, utterly bewildered. Even Richard was completely stunned. He had braced himself for an explosive rage, or maybe a massive extortion demand. He never expected me to say something so completely unhinged. Lily's eyes bulged like saucers. "Leo, are you even human? Offering to serve your own wife up on a silver platter to another man? How could you say that?" "I was blind to ever marry you!" She lashed out in helpless fury, her fists flailing against my arm. I turned around, pulled a crisp document from my jacket, and slapped it down right in front of her. "What is this?" she demanded. Thinking she must be playing dumb, I tapped the bold header and explained patiently, "Divorce agreement." Then I pointed at Richard. "My boss likes you. Sign it. I'm not the type to stand in the way of true love." Seeing how accommodating I was, Richard was still suspicious. He narrowed his swollen eyes at me. "Are you serious?" I threw an arm casually around his bruised shoulder. "Just hook me up with a raise, boss. Thirty-five hundred a month barely covers the bills." Convinced that I had truly folded, Richard straightened his spine, arrogance returning to his posture. "Done. Easy. I'll bump you to five thousand. No, six thousand." I clapped him on the shoulder. "Generous man. I won't keep you." Those were the exact words Richard was desperate to hear. Shivering and frantic, he scrambled to pull on his clothes, ready to sprint out the door. "Wait! You forgot something." I called out after him. "Her, too." I pointed at Lily. I sneered internally. The only reason Richard had any wealth or status was his wife's powerful family. Without his wealthy in-laws, he was a nobody. There was zero chance he would ever divorce his wife. And as for Lily? Men only obsess over what they can't easily have. Once it's handed over like cheap surplus, it turns straight to garbage. When they were sneaking behind my back, it was all about the adrenaline rush. Now that I was pushing her into his lap, the way Richard looked at Lily had shifted completely. To him, she was no longer a forbidden prize—she was a liability that could ruin his fortune. "Keep her!" Richard spat out the words and bolted down the hall like a frightened dog. Lily was left sitting on the sofa, frozen in shock. I rubbed my nose and looked at her. "So, uh... who are you again? Get the hell out before I press charges for trespassing."Lily lunged at me like a rabid animal, her eyes bloodshot with fury, but I dodged her effortlessly. Refusing to leave, she dialed 911 and claimed I was committing domestic abuse. The police showed up soon after—the very same officer who had booked me in my past life. The officer separated us and took our statements. Lily had no visible injuries, but Richard's name came up in every account. He told me the assault allegation would need to be investigated, and that any dispute over the apartment belonged with our lawyers. Before heading out the door, the officer gave my shoulder a sympathetic pat. I gave a casual shrug, as if to say, Just another Tuesday. My boys and I threw an all-night party right there in the living room. Lily sat in the corner, seething in silent rage, not daring to say a damn word. I couldn't help but think about my previous life. My pay had been pathetic, and the second I stepped through the door, Lily would constantly berate me for being a useless failure. No smoking, no drinking, no staying up late, no hanging out with the guys, no video games. I caved to every single one of her demands. When she demanded designer bags, I took out loans to buy them. When she refused to cook, I came home from grinding all day to make dinner, wash dishes, and scrub the floors. I treated her like a princess and spoiled her rotten. And at work, I worked myself to the bone, believing hard work would actually be rewarded. And what did it get me? They played me for a fool, used me for unpaid labor, and slapped me with a three-hundred-thousand-dollar fine for taking a shit. On top of that, she cheated on me—with my own damn boss. At first, I'd thought getting a divorce agreement signed and throwing Richard out would be enough. The more I thought about it, fueled by the sting of alcohol, the angrier I got. A far darker, far more satisfying plan began to take shape in my mind. The next morning, I strutted into the company like I owned the place. Richard was in the cafeteria getting breakfast. Looks like my boys went too easy on him yesterday—the bastard was actually well enough to show up to work. He reached toward the counter to grab a cup of hot soy milk. I walked up and smacked him upside the back of the head. "Eating good, aren't we?" The smack sent his head spinning. He wobbled for several seconds before catching his balance. "You!" He glared at me, ready to explode, but the fresh memory of yesterday's beatdown made him swallow his rage instantly. "What do you want?" he hissed under his breath. Ignoring him, I snatched the soy milk straight out of his hand, took two big gulps, and shoved the cup right back into his chest. "Tastes like garbage. Too sweet. I take mine unsweetened." Before walking away, I clapped him hard on the shoulder. "Boss, you promised me that six-thousand-dollar monthly salary yesterday. A big man doesn't go back on his word." "Keep it up, and maybe I'll swing by your house for the holidays to bring your lovely wife a gift basket." The cafeteria was packed with staff, and my loud words dropped like a bomb. Whispers broke out across the room. Everyone knew the company was notoriously stingy. Salaries were half the industry standard, but the workload was double. Nobody ever dared to ask for a raise. Rumor had it that anyone who tried got pushed out of the company without a dime in severance. Yet here I was, brazenly demanding a raise to the boss's face, while Richard stood there looking like he'd swallowed a live fly. A spark of rebellion began to flicker in everyone's eyes. Leaving the cafeteria, I headed straight for the restroom. Without the crushing weight of anxiety on my shoulders, taking a dump felt liberating. It was pure, unadulterated bliss. I sat there until both of my legs went completely numb. When I finally stepped out, I checked the timer: twenty minutes over the company limit. I shook my head with mock regret. Gotta pump those numbers up next time. Sure enough, barely an hour after I sat at my desk, an all-company email blast hit everyone's inbox. "Employee Leo exceeded the allotted bathroom time limit by twenty minutes. In accordance with company policy, a fine of $1,200,000 has been issued." A company-wide WhatsApp alert followed, tagging me directly and ordering me to Richard's office immediately. I casually pushed my chair back and stood up. My coworkers watched me with terrified, pitying eyes. I flashed them a reassuring grin, held my head high, and strolled right into the lion's den. The second Richard saw me, a smug, greasy smirk spread across his bruised face. "Well, Leo, it looks like you went twenty minutes over our strict bathroom limit today." "Per the rules, that's a thousand dollars for every single second. That comes out to a cool 1.2 million." He exchanged a gloating glance with Sandra, both of them practically vibrating with suppressed laughter. I parted my lips to speak, but they assumed I was about to beg for mercy. "We've already submitted the loan application to the bank using the ID you provided," Sandra cut in smoothly. "You have thirty days to pay it back. Take it up with the bank." "You signed the contract. We have full legal authorization to use your personal information." I scratched the back of my neck with a puzzled look. "Contract? What contract? I never signed any contract."