Common Sense Manipulation App
Chapter 48 - Lord Of Fries

Chapter 48: Chapter 48 - Lord Of Fries

Karl stiffened the moment he saw her.

Maria.

His former boss.

The woman who, with a kind smile and a gentle voice, had once told him she tried—really tried—to keep him from getting laid off.

The same woman who had been fucking Rebecca’s husband behind her back.

The hypocrisy was almost laughable.

And yet, there she stood, perfectly poised, her tailored blazer hugging her frame, her dark eyes sparkling with something just beneath the surface. Amusement? Malice? A test?

It didn’t matter.

She was here.

And Rebecca, completely unaware of the silent tension in the air, was beaming.

"Karl, can you believe it?" Rebecca grinned, tossing her purse onto his couch. "Maria and I have been best friends since high school! I had no idea you two knew each other!"

Karl forced a smile, though he could feel his teeth grinding against each other. "Yeah. Small world."

Maria tilted her head, her expression soft—too soft. "Karl... it’s been so long."

Her voice dripped with warmth, the same warmth she had used when she sat across from him in that cold office, hands folded, looking at him with pity.

"I tried, Karl. I really did. But the company made its decision. If it were up to me, you’d still be here."

Lies.

The way she looked at him now... it was different from back then. Back then, she pretended to be regretful, to be a superior who cared about her employees.

But now?

She can’t trick Karl anymore.

He knew about her little affair with Johnson. He knew her kindness probably been a carefully crafted illusion. That she wasn’t the helpless, good-hearted boss she pretended to be.

And yet, here she was.

Acting like she still had the upper hand.

Karl let out a breath, tilting his head slightly, mirroring her. "Yeah, Maria. Been a while."

Maria smiled. That same kind smile she used on everyone. The same one that had made so many fools trust her. "You look... different."

He chuckled. "Guess getting screwed over changes a guy."

Maria’s expression didn’t falter, but there was a flicker in her eyes.

"Karl," she sighed, stepping a little closer. "I just want you to know... I really did try back then."

Rebecca, still oblivious, perked up. "See? That’s why I love Maria! She’s always looking out for people."

Karl nearly laughed.

This was insane.

Rebecca—so kind, so trusting—was unknowingly vouching for the woman who had been sleeping with her husband.

And Maria?

Maria was standing there, perfectly composed, playing the role of a concerned, well-meaning friend.

Karl wanted to push her. To see if he could make that mask crack.

So he smiled.

A slow, knowing smile.

"I know you did, Maria. You really tried, didn’t you?"

Something flashed across her face.

Just for a second.

Then, just as quickly, she smiled back. "Of course. I’ve always wanted the best for you."

And Johnson’s cock too, apparently.

Karl clenched his jaw.

She was testing him.

She knew exactly what she was doing.

Rebecca let out a happy sigh. "I’m so glad we’re all here! We should totally have dinner together sometime!"

Maria’s eyes stayed on Karl, her smirk widening just a fraction.

"I’d love that," she said softly.

Karl felt his fingers twitch.

The hypocrisy in this room was suffocating.

Rebecca stretched her arms and sighed contentedly. "Well, we won’t take up too much of your time, Karl. We just wanted to say hi!"

Maria gave him that same saccharine smile, tilting her head slightly. "Yes, just a friendly visit."

Karl forced a tight smile, watching as Rebecca hugged him briefly before pulling away. Maria, of course, made no such move. She only watched him, her dark eyes brimming with amusement as if she knew exactly what was going through his head.

"Take care, Karl," she said smoothly, her voice dripping with that false warmth. "It was... good seeing you again."

He didn’t reply.

He just stood there, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed as he watched them walk away.

Rebecca, always the cheerful fool, waved one last time before disappearing around the corner. Maria didn’t bother.

The moment the door clicked shut behind them, Karl exhaled, running a hand down his face.

Fucking hypocrites.

He strode back into his apartment, cracking his neck before flopping onto the couch. The artificial calm of the room was a relief after the suffocating performance he had just endured.

But just as he began to relax—

His phone buzzed.

Then, before he could reach for it, the air in the room shifted.

A familiar crimson shimmer flickered across the screen, and with her usual dramatic flair, she appeared.

Chillie Jean.

Reclining in midair as if seated on some invisible throne, her elaborate velvet gown pooled beneath her. Gold-trimmed gloves adorned her fingers, and her sharp golden eyes gleamed with wicked amusement.

She adjusted the imaginary crown atop her head, then placed a delicate hand on her chest with an exaggerated sigh.

"Ahh... my dear Lord of Fries," she drawled, her tone practically dripping with mockery. "How tragic it must be, ruling over a kingdom of deceit and stale potato grease."

Karl groaned. "Lord of Fries? Seriously?"

Chillie Jean smirked. "You are quite fond of fast food, are you not? It seems only fitting that your title reflects your greatest passion."

He scowled. "And you? You don’t get tired of this bangsawan act?"

Chillie let out a scandalized gasp, clutching her nonexistent pearls. "Tired? My dear Karl, I am noble blood—how dare you suggest that I grow weary of my divine elegance?"

Karl rolled his eyes. "It’s fake elegance, you overdramatic AI."

She tsked, wagging a gloved finger. "And yet, my dear Lord of Fries—"

"Stop calling me that."

"—I must ask... do you not tire of watching such vile hypocrisy unfold before your very eyes?"

Karl frowned. "What are you talking about?"

Chillie Jean’s smirk deepened as she gracefully leaned forward, her chin resting on her palm.

"You stand here, loathing them for their lies. For their empty smiles, their secret betrayals, their filthy pretenses..." She trailed a gloved finger in the air as if tracing the words themselves. "And yet, you, dear Karl, do nothing but watch."

Karl’s eyes narrowed. "I do something."

"Do you?" Chillie cocked her head. "Or do you simply observe, reveling in your own smug satisfaction, knowing you’re one step ahead while doing nothing about it?"

Karl’s jaw tightened. "And what? You want me to expose them? Tear apart Rebecca’s perfect little illusion?"

Chillie let out a delighted hum. "Oh, how deliciously cruel that would be~."

Karl didn’t answer.

Because for a moment—for just a moment—he wondered if he should.

Chillie watched him closely, her golden eyes gleaming.

"Oh, Lord of Fries," she purred. "Shall we salt the wound?"