Chapter Sixty-Two – The Domino Effect
The first tremor of chaos began with an email.
Not explosive, not overt — just a subtle misdirection buried in a routine report. The senior director Xinyue had marked as the first target opened it at 8:03 a.m., expecting standard numbers, departmental summaries, projections. Instead, the figures were slightly skewed. Nothing a casual glance would reveal. Nothing the company's automated systems would flag.
But the director noticed.
A hesitation in his fingers. A pause in his usual confident tone during the morning briefing. And then a quiet doubt — the seed of fear — planted precisely where Xinyue wanted it.
From her apartment, Xinyue observed the ripple through her secure monitors. Lines of data, behavioral analyses, and instant alerts mapped every reaction. The first misstep had been accepted, digested, and — unknowingly — magnified.
Jun leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "It's faster than I expected. Even the smallest manipulation is enough."
Xinyue didn't answer immediately. She was watching the city below, where the morning bustle concealed the unfolding storm within Horizon Gate's towers. "The dominoes fall quickest when the first is hesitant. Fear doesn't need force — only the suggestion that stability is slipping."
Li Wei's morning had been spent tracing anomalies. Every irregular report led him to more questions than answers. He knew someone was orchestrating the subtle fractures, but he still couldn't identify the source.
He arrived at the executive lounge, folder in hand, mind spinning with fragments of the truth. His gaze, however, was locked on Xinyue.
"You're calm," he said, his voice low, almost accusatory. "Even knowing what's happening?"
"Calm is a tool," she replied smoothly, eyes on her tablet, scrolling through the behavioral maps. "Fear, on the other hand, is a weapon. And you've seen what a well-placed weapon can do."
He stared at her. The line between admiration and suspicion blurred. "You're using people. And yet…" His voice softened. "…I can't hate you."
Xinyue didn't look up. "You never could."
The first domino shifted visibly by mid-morning.
The senior director called an emergency meeting, questioning data he previously would have accepted unquestioningly. Emails that were meant for another department were accidentally forwarded. Strategic plans were delayed. Resource allocations conflicted with pre-existing commitments. His team, once confident and precise, began second-guessing every decision.
Jun whispered from the side. "They suspect someone's meddling."
"Good," Xinyue said, a faint smile on her lips. "Suspicion is stronger than certainty. It corrodes trust faster than any direct attack."
Across the building, Li Wei noticed the subtle tremors too. He saw colleagues hesitating, catching themselves before they spoke, frowning over trivial errors. Something had shifted. But what? And who?
He frowned, frustration mingling with concern. "Someone is orchestrating this," he muttered. "And it's… calculated."
Xinyue, listening from her monitors, allowed herself the smallest hint of pride. Calculated. That was exactly the word she had hoped would surface in his mind.
By afternoon, the effects cascaded.
Departments that had previously functioned independently were now misaligned. Meetings conflicted. Resources overlapped. Security protocols were bypassed unintentionally. And at the center of it all, the first domino, the director, began to panic. He blamed mistakes on human error, then on junior staff, then on system glitches. But he could feel the walls closing in.
Xinyue leaned back, letting herself absorb the pattern. Each reaction, each falter, confirmed her hypothesis: chaos was infectious. Once the first key piece trembled, the rest would follow.
Jun shook his head. "It's elegant. But don't forget, Li Wei is watching. He'll see the pattern soon."
Xinyue smiled faintly, almost tenderly. "Let him. He has to. Understanding me fully is the only way he can survive… or fall."
Li Wei stood in the executive lounge late in the day, watching the dominoes collapse from within. His analytical mind pieced together the puzzle while his heart struggled with the implications.
He finally whispered aloud, almost to himself, "It's her… it has to be her."
And yet, beneath that realization, another voice whispered: I trust her. I have to.
It was the first real moment he wavered between reason and heart.
And somewhere, above the city lights, Xinyue allowed herself a private thought:
Let them all fall. The first domino trembles. The house of glass is beginning to crack.