His Name is Law, I'm Self-Made

“You want justice so damn bad? Then go get yourself a rich mother to fight your battles. Oh wait—right. You don’t have one.”

Tyron didn’t even bother hiding the contempt on his face. He looked at me coldly and said, “Me? I’m Thelma Appleton’s son—the CEO of Aptivion Group. My status alone is enough to crush you for the rest of your life.”

I stared straight at him, genuinely wondering where this guy got the balls for that kind of confidence.

Hell, for a second I even started doubting my aunt—did she really sneak around and pop out some secret kid behind the family’s backs?

Then, I asked, “I heard Mrs. Appleton has a nephew she treats like her own son. Tell me, ‘top salesperson,’ have you actually met him?”

Tyron’s face froze. Then he clicked his tongue and shot me a dismissive look.

“That’s my cousin. Of course, I’ve met him. But he’s been overseas for years. He barely comes home. Even I hardly see him, so a nobody like you? Don’t even dream about it.”

I chuckled. “Is that so? If he’s not low-class, then why’d someone steal another man’s top-sales title and bonus? Don’t tell me you’re not a real Appleton.”

“Son of a—!” Tyron’s face went dark, his eyes filled with rage. Tyron’s face went dark, rage twisting his features.

“I’m telling you, Conley. Don’t push your luck. Your title was revoked because you didn’t deserve it. I earned mine with real skills!”

“With skills?” I stepped forward, staring straight at him. “You mean the skill to slack off and play games every day at work? Or the skill to take two-hour lunch breaks and clock out right at five?”

“Or maybe,” I added slowly, “the skill to stare at your computer all day and only type the word ‘Proposal’ on a PowerPoint slide?”

I wasn’t talking fast, but every word landed hard.

His mouth moved, but nothing came out. He just flicked his eyes toward our boss in desperation.

Rayner’s face twisted with disappointment—like Tyron had embarrassed him by being useless. Then he turned to me, his voice cold.

“Conley. Watch your tone. This is a company, not a street corner. You don’t get to yell as you please!

“Just because you won a few projects before doesn’t mean you get to be untouchable. Survival of the fittest—you were replaced by someone better. You need to accept that. Stop making trouble!”

Everyone turned to look at me, waiting to see how big of a fool I’d make of myself for a five-hundred-thousand bonus.

Five hundred thousand?

Five million wouldn’t even interest me.

What I wanted was fairness.

I didn’t get angry. I didn’t argue. I just let out a cold, mocking laugh.

“Fine. I accept it. The top salesperson title should go to someone ‘more capable.’”

The moment I sat back at my desk, HR blasted out two announcements.

[Our employee, Conley Myntti, has misused company funds for excessive dining, severely violating company policy. Effective immediately, he is removed from the Sales Manager position and suspended for reflection.]

[Our intern Tyron Appleton, who has ‘bravely defended company interests’ and shown ‘outstanding performance’—creating massive profits—is now hired full-time. He will take over the Sales Manager position and all ongoing projects.]

Right after that, the CEO mentioned me in the group chat.

[@Conley, due to your wastefulness and disregard for company rules, your monthly bonus is deducted. Write a 10,000-word self-criticism and post it in the group chat for everyone to learn from!]

Unbelievable.

They stripped my title, cut my bonus, turned me into a public example, threw me onto a sacrificial altar—using my humiliation to flex their power.

The group immediately fell silent. Even the whole office went dead quiet.

Everyone’s eyes drifted toward me—some sympathetic, some angry, some gloating.

The message just sat there, unmoving, like everyone was waiting for me to swallow my pride and apologize in the group chat.

Then Rayner mentioned my name again.

[@Conley. Did you not see it?】

I still didn’t respond.

He kept tagging me like a madman.

Then Lilla sent me a private message.

[Hey, don’t be stubborn. Just bend a little. Your job matters more.]