Chapter 1My Counterattack Against The Office Predator

At the company dinner, I snatched my unconscious male colleague back from death's door.

But the first words out of his mouth when he woke up were accusations that I'd taken advantage of him. He even posted online demanding I make it up to him by becoming his girlfriend.

I thought that was the peak of shamelessness -- until today's meeting, when he collapsed at my feet clutching his chest again, and the entire company pressured me to save him.

I let out a cold laugh, took half a step back, and dialed 91

"I wouldn't dare touch him this time. What if he wakes up and demands I pay with my life?"

* * *

The moment those words left my mouth, the conference room -- previously noisy with panic -- fell into a deathly silence.

Dozens of pairs of eyes swept back and forth between me and Trevor, who was convulsing on the floor, filled with shock, confusion, and veiled accusation.

The air seemed to freeze.

Trevor's number one lackey, Harvey -- always quick to read the room -- turned beet red with fury, jabbing his finger at my nose as he launched into a tirade.

"Clara! How can you be so vicious? This is a matter of life and death, and you're throwing a tantrum? If anything happens to Trevor, can you handle the legal consequences?!"

"No, I can't," I shot back, meeting his gaze without backing down, my eyes cold as ice.

"At last month's company dinner, he had an allergic reaction to seafood that caused acute shock. He couldn't even breathe. I was the one who used my certified first aid training to perform the Heimlich maneuver and CPR, literally dragging him back from death's door!"

I took a deep breath, my voice echoing through the spacious conference room.

"And what happened? When he woke up, he said I ripped his shirt. Said I groped his chest while he was unconscious. Even claimed I forced a kiss on him under the guise of rescue breathing! Not only did he demand ten thousand dollars for emotional distress, he posted a sob story in the company group chat pressuring me to become his girlfriend to 'restore his reputation'!"

"This time, if I touch him again and he wakes up claiming I deliberately hurt him, demanding I transfer my house to him and support his parents in their old age -- Harvey, are you going to pay for all that?"

Harvey was struck speechless by my rapid-fire questions, his face turning the color of liver, unable to squeeze out a single word.

Quinn from the administrative department, always one to smooth things over, stomped his feet anxiously and rushed over to grab my arm, his voice trembling.

"Clara! Please, I'm begging you -- stop being stubborn! Save him first! Whatever the misunderstanding is, we can mediate it internally after Trevor wakes up, okay?"

I forcefully shook off Quinn's hand and cast a cold glance at Trevor lying on the floor, his chest still heaving violently.

I held up my phone, the screen showing an active 911 call.

"I've already called an ambulance. City Central Hospital is only two blocks away. Professional medical personnel are a thousand times more reliable than a half-baked certified amateur like me."

I scanned the circle of colleagues around me -- all looking anxious but not one stepping forward -- and my lips curved into a mocking smile.

"And let's be honest -- if I have a sudden burst of compassion today and he stops breathing halfway through the rescue, won't his family turn around and sue me for practicing medicine without a license? For manslaughter?"

"Besides, all of you who usually call him your buddy and are so concerned about him now -- how come not one of you is stepping up to give him mouth-to-mouth?"

"Go ahead! Maybe when Trevor wakes up, he'll look at you all starry-eyed and say you're secretly in love with him, and you'll have to take responsibility for his entire future!"

The moment those words left my mouth, several colleagues who had been itching to persuade me suddenly shut up as if electrocuted.

Everyone looked at each other, then uniformly took two large steps backward, as if afraid of being contaminated by something dirty.

Just then, Trevor -- lying "at death's door" on the floor -- suddenly twitched his fingers in an extremely unnatural way.

Immediately after, he let out a weak but extraordinarily clear voice.

"Clara... please... save me... if you save me, I won't... blame you for what happened at the dinner... isn't that enough?"

I almost laughed out loud from sheer anger.

I took another step back, completely withdrawing from the circle surrounding me, crossing my arms and looking down at his pathetic performance.

"Don't, Trevor. Please don't be so generous. After you catch your breath, who knows -- you might say I'm lusting after your body and demand I bear your child as penance. Someone like you? I could never aspire so high."

Just as I finished speaking, the wail of an approaching ambulance siren came from outside the window.

The piercing alarm cut through the quiet office building.

A miracle occurred.

The instant he heard the siren, Trevor -- who had seemed on the verge of death just seconds ago -- suddenly opened his eyes wide.

He planted his hands on the ground and sprang upright from the floor in one smooth motion!

Not only was his complexion rosy, even his breathing had become perfectly smooth.

"Clara! Do you have to be this difficult?" Trevor brushed the dust off his suit, looking at me with an expression of wounded disappointment.

"I know you've secretly had a crush on me, and that day at the dinner you were just trying to make a move. You're shy and embarrassed to admit it -- I get it, I understand all that."

"But how can you say such vicious things just to spite me because I called you out? Don't you know how much that hurts my feelings?"

The colleagues who moments ago had been panicking, thinking someone might die, now stood frozen in place.

Then the shock on their faces rapidly transformed into the excitement of watching drama unfold.

"Oh? So you're not dead after all?" I said with a cold laugh, my gaze sharp as a knife.

"Since you're so full of life, you can go downstairs and pay the ambulance dispatch fee yourself."

"Oh, and since you just claimed I'm spitefully trying to hurt you -- want me to play the recording of you cornering me in the break room yesterday, forcing me to transfer you ten thousand dollars as a 'relationship sincerity fund' for everyone to hear?"

Trevor's face instantly went from red to white, then from white to green, his eyes beginning to dart around anxiously.

"You... what are you talking about! What ten thousand dollars! That... that was me testing your feelings for me! That was our future relationship fund!"

The surrounding colleagues finally couldn't hold it in anymore and burst into laughter.

The way everyone looked at him now was like watching a complete clown.

I didn't even spare him another glance, turning and striding back to my workstation.

Saving him at last month's dinner was the stupidest, most disgusting thing I'd ever done in my life.

If I softened today, I'd be completely brain-dead.

I thought that publicly exposing his true colors would finally put an end to this farce.

But I underestimated how shameless people could be, and how dark the workplace really was.

That evening at ten o'clock, I was at home applying a face mask when my phone suddenly vibrated.

It was a voice call from Quinn.

"Clara, you don't need to come in to clock in tomorrow."