Oscar told Hannah, "The bad news is, I've been appointed chief administrative officer in River Town."

Hannah froze. This meant Oscar's relocation to another city. It was called a promotion, but effectively sent him far away—more like a demotion. They were clearly giving him a hard time.

She suspected Charles was behind it, unlikely to let Oscar succeed easily. The man possessed average ability, yet a frighteningly sinister nature.

"Are you mad?" Oscar asked, attempting to reassure her. "I told you in advance to avoid an overly angry… reaction. I've been through this before," he joked.

Hannah was speechless, but knew it wasn't the time to reprimand him; he was the victim. Calming herself, she said, "It's not your fault. Charles is too cunning."

"Indeed. Insidious," Oscar agreed calmly, stating a fact without anger or displeasure. Hannah admired his composure.

"When do you leave?" Hannah asked, wanting to avoid conflict.

"A week," Oscar replied with a smile. "I applied for it, after all. I want to enjoy my bonus before I go."

Hannah wondered if she could offer comfort. She knew, in her eyes, Oscar valued consummating their marriage more than his career. She even questioned if she'd become a siren; in her past life, Oscar had been dedicated to his work, but this life, love dominated.

"I won't disturb your work. See you tonight," Oscar said, his tone still smiling, though Hannah questioned its authenticity. "See you tonight," she replied.

After the call, Hannah's composure shattered. Rage exploded. She cursed Charles, feeling even angrier than if she’d been targeted herself. Oscar had risked everything for this promotion, only to be tricked. She couldn't tolerate it.

Suddenly, she thought of the South Bay New Town redevelopment. Charles and his family would pay.

…

Half an hour later, news of Oscar's appointment topped search trends. Everyone lauded his promotion, praising his talent and patriotism. The internet erupted with congratulations.

No one noticed the appointment letter listed River Town, a poor city requiring a five-hour flight from Kensbury City and four hours from the capital—a distant place, incredibly far for Hannah. She'd never been. She worried about him adapting alone.

Reading the celebratory news, Hannah fumed. While the internet rejoiced, she wanted revenge on Charles. Oscar's "forced smile" filled her with unspeakable dread.

As she prepared to return to work, a new headline appeared: "Does Oscar's Promotion Send Him to the Borderland?"

Hannah paused, momentarily questioning her judgment. Anger had blinded her to the opportunity to leverage Oscar's newfound prominence. She mentally chastised herself.

Clicking the article, she learned the public viewed Oscar's promotion as a national endorsement of his abilities, only to have him dispatched to Northfield's poorest city. Was this training or a waste of talent? The lack of a timeframe fueled public concern over the future of promising individuals.

The news sparked intense debate. Initial congratulations turned to apprehension. While Oscar had been promoted, he gained no tangible benefits, losing opportunities in Kensbury City—a disguised demotion.

Public outrage ensued. Questions were directed at City Hall, then suspicion fell on Charles—accusations of sabotage and underhanded tactics, even suggestions of powerful backing within City Hall. The internet demanded accountability from Charles and an explanation for Oscar.

Oscar's appointment became a public war. The unacceptable situation demanded answers; otherwise, City Hall would face severe consequences.

Within four hours, City Hall responded. The leader addressed the media, explaining the decision as a carefully considered plan to provide Oscar with valuable training through a temporary assignment. The omission of these details in the letter was acknowledged and apologized for. He promised Oscar's return to Kensbury City within six months, contingent upon his performance.