Tera Chad's Overtime Liberation Rampage!
Tera Chad flashed a dazzling grin at the helicopter camera. Satisfied that he'd fully showcased his perfect muscles through the lens, he turned his head to survey Seoul's night streets. The clock hands were racing toward nine o'clock. Any healthy adult with a sound body and mind should have left the workplace by now. They ought to head home to a warm house, eat a proper meal packed with quality protein and carbs, and relax with their loved ones. That's the essence of a healthy life—and a healthy life builds a healthy body. A healthy body, in turn, houses a healthy mind.
But.
The scene that met Tera Chad's eyes was far removed from that common sense. Beneath the dark night sky, the surrounding forest of buildings blazed like daylight. These were the homes of so-called "small businesses." Tera Chad's superhuman vision zoomed in instantly through the glass windows. Tiny humans huddled in corners behind partitions, staring blankly at their monitors. Unfocused pupils, turtle necks, and hunched postures that screamed severe disc problems. Their mouths drooped downward, and the shadows under their eyes were darker than charcoal.
"Such... damnable...!"
Tera Chad's massive pectorals quivered with rage. How could those saps abuse their bodies like that? Were they being forced? But no one was holding guns or knives to their heads. Tera Chad couldn't just stand by and watch those rigid spines, crushed trapeziuses, and glutes on the verge of necrosis.
Boom!
The moment Tera Chad's thigh compressed and expanded, the concrete road beneath him cratered like a volcano. One leap. His colossal body shot up like a cannonball, hurtling toward the outer wall of a brightly lit multi-story building.
Crash!
Thick glass exploded into shards like fireworks. Amid the glittering fragments scattering like petals, Tera Chad burst into a president's office furnished with a luxury leather sofa and nameplate.
"Gah?!"
A middle-aged man buried in an executive chair, watching the news, sprang up like a coiled spring in terror. Expensive-looking suit, oily face. And on the desk, a glass of whiskey on the rocks. While the employees slaved away like that, the boss was boozing and watching TV in his office.
Tera Chad strode forward, grabbed the man by the scruff with one hand, and hoisted him up. The suit's collar stretched taut as the man's feet left the floor.
"You!"
Tera Chad's booming voice echoed through the office.
"Have you properly paid your saps overtime at 1.5 times the rate?!"
"Wh-what are you talking abou—"
"Overtime. 1.5 times! Paid or not! Yes or no! Answer!"
"W-we're on an all-inclusive wage system, so no separate overtime..."
The terrified man's stammered words snapped Tera Chad's sanity.
"Undervaluing labor like that—you tongue-lashing bastard!!"
Whoosh.
With a mere wrist flick, Tera Chad hurled the president onto the plush sofa. As the man foam-mouthed and passed out, the award plaque on the wall above the sofa—
—came crashing down on his head. Tera Chad turned toward the employees frozen in fear beyond the door crack.
"You saps over there!!"
His lion's roar swept through the office like a waterfall.
"Shut down those computers and get home now! Go wash up, eat, and rest! If you've got a wife, spend a good night with her!"
Silence.
The employees stared at each other in bewilderment. Then, movement began. First, one closed their laptop. Second, one grabbed their bag. When the third pushed back their chair and stood, the rest followed suit. All of them, faces a mix of relief and joy, snatched their bags and fled in a stampede.
Before the last employee left the office, they gave Tera Chad a slight bow. Tera Chad nodded in satisfaction, then leaped out through the shattered window into the night sky.
Thud.
Landing. Another fresh crater on the road.
At the same moment, the news anchor in the circling helicopter, broadcasting live, shouted urgently.
