Two Choices

The cold, rusty, and dusty water splashed on his face, making Wang Hu shiver and struggle to wake up from a deep coma and excruciating pain.

A dull pain in the back of his neck made him groan. His vision blurred and doubled at first, then slowly focused. He found himself slumped on a cold cement floor, his hands bound behind his back with rough plastic straps that hurt his wrists. The light was glaring, coming from a high-wattage incandescent bulb overhead, illuminating the small space in a stark white.

This place resembles an abandoned warehouse cubicle, or a storage room in some industrial park. The walls are mottled, and in the corners are piles of broken equipment and dusty boxes whose purpose is unclear. Besides the smell of dust, there's a faint, lingering smell of heated electronic devices and... coffee?

He shook his groggy head, trying to recall what had happened. The dog kennel... Sun Penghui... the raised knife... the blinding car headlights... the door smashed open... and then that blow to the back of the neck, a blow powerful enough to cause a concussion...

Fear, like an icy tide, instantly overwhelmed his remaining confusion. He abruptly looked up, staring ahead.

About three or four meters directly in front of him stood a relatively clean metal folding chair that seemed out of place in the surroundings. A person was sitting in the chair.

A young-looking man, dressed in a plain dark gray hoodie and jeans, wearing black-rimmed Glasses, with slightly long hair casually falling over his forehead, was leaning forward slightly. He held a tablet computer in his hand, his fingers lightly swiping across it, the cold light of the screen reflecting on his expressionless face. On the small table next to him was a steaming cup of coffee.

This person's appearance is exactly like that of a programmer or technician working overtime late into the night, completely different from the fierce-looking, burly thugs and bosses in the park that Wang Hu had imagined.

But Wang Hu's heart suddenly clenched, and a chill ran up his spine.

He recognized the face—or rather, he had seen a photo and heard a description of it. Just a few days ago, word came from the larger industrial park that a new "technical director" had arrived, a truly formidable and highly skilled individual, responsible for the entire park's system security, upgrading of technical fraud models, and... certain special "external affairs." The young man in the photo looked just like that, unremarkable, even somewhat bookish.

The code name seems to be... K?

Wang Hu had been in this area for many years and knew one thing well: in places like this, the more harmless someone seems, sitting in an office typing on a keyboard, the less likely they are to be messed with. This is because they hold more core information, and a flick of their fingers can be more deadly than any fight outside. Moreover, they usually represent the more authoritative and unquestionable will of the higher levels of the park.

"Mr. K... Mr. K?" Wang Hu licked his cracked and bleeding lips, forcing out an extremely humble smile. His voice was hoarse and distorted with fear and pain. "You... you must be the new Mr. K? I, Wang Hu, was blind to your greatness. I don't know how I offended you. Please, have mercy on me and spare my life. I will repay you by serving you like a slave!"

As he spoke, he tried to use his bound elbows to support himself on the ground in a gesture of kowtowing, but because he was unsteady on his feet, the movement looked comical and awkward.

K, sitting in his chair, seemed to have finally finished processing the information on his tablet. He casually placed it on the table next to him with a soft "click." Then, he picked up his coffee, took a slow sip, and then raised his eyelids, his gaze calmly falling through his glasses onto Wang Hu, who was writhing on the floor like a maggot.

There was no murderous intent in his gaze, not even any emotion; it was as if he were looking at an inanimate object, or a string of code waiting to be processed on a screen.

K leaned forward slightly, closing the distance a bit. His voice was low and flat, as if stating an objective fact:

"Brother Hu, right?"

"No! No! Mr. K! Please don't call me that!" Wang Hu was terrified, shaking his head like a rattle-drum, cold sweat instantly beading on his forehead. "You flatter me! Just call me A Hu! Just call me Xiao Wang! I'm just a gofer, trying to make a living..."

He frantically calculated in his mind. His small gang, clinging to the lower levels of the industrial park and scraping by, wouldn't normally even have the privilege of meeting a "technical officer" of this caliber. The only person he could think of who was suddenly and swiftly arrested him was Sun Penghui! And that cold, aloof young man on the phone!

Damn it! Just who is that kid? How could he get someone like Boss K to personally intervene? Does that loser Sun Penghui have some powerful connections in the park's upper echelons that we don't know about?

K ignored Wang Hu's incoherent attempts to flatter and defend himself. He put down his coffee cup, leaned back in his chair, and casually placed his hands on his knees. Behind his glasses, his gaze remained calm as he looked at Wang Hu, as if he were merely checking for a program bug.

Then, in a tone as casual as if he were discussing the weather, he asked:

"I heard you like to chop people up,"

He paused slightly.

"Feed the dog?"

The words were spoken in a completely soft tone, but to Wang Hu, they were like a thunderclap!

It's over!

Wang Hu's last shred of hope was shattered. He felt as if he had fallen into an ice cave, and the blood in his limbs seemed to freeze at that moment. Sure enough! It was because of this matter!

Overwhelmed by fear, he nearly lost control of his bladder. He frantically pounded his head against the ground, the concrete thuds echoing with each thud. Blood immediately welled up on his forehead as he howled:

"Mr. K! It's a misunderstanding! A huge misunderstanding! I didn't know! I really didn't know Sun Penghui was your friend! If I had known, I wouldn't have dared to lay a finger on him! I just... I just talked tough to scare his family and get some money! I really didn't dare to lay a hand on him! Look, he... he's still perfectly fine, isn't he? I can compensate you! Double the compensation! I just beg you to spare my worthless life! I'll be your dog from now on! Whoever you tell me to bite, I'll bite!"

He broke down in tears, blaming everything on "ignorance" and "empty talk," hoping to buy his life with money and loyalty. In such places, when facing superiors, lowering one's stance and paying a sufficient price often offers a glimmer of hope—this was the "survival wisdom" he had accumulated over many years of hardship.

K listened quietly as Wang Hu finished crying, his face remaining expressionless, neither angry nor moved. Only when Wang Hu stopped breathing, gasping for breath due to lack of oxygen and fear, and looked at him with pleading, tearful eyes, did K gently push up his Glasses.

Then, he slowly extended his right hand.

Under Wang Hu's hopeful (thinking it was time to discuss the price) and fearful gaze, K held up two fingers.

"Alright then," K's voice remained calm, as if offering a solution, "I'll give you two choices."

A choice! Wang Hu felt a sudden sense of relief, almost bursting into tears of joy. Having a choice was good! Having a choice meant there was room for negotiation! It was simply a matter of how much money! He even began to mentally calculate his savings over the years, the assets he could sell, and how many more years he would need to serve this Boss K...

He stared longingly at K's two raised fingers, like a prisoner awaiting sentencing, or a gambler seeing a glimmer of hope.

Then, he heard K's clear and calm voice:

"First, it's Rottweiler."

K paused, as if giving Wang Hu time to understand, and then continued:

"Secondly, it's Dobermann."

"You choose."

The warehouse cubicle was deathly silent.