Replaceable by AI, Huh?

"Kylie, this year's annual bonus is evaluated based on two factors: performance and peer reviews.

"Since your team never participates in company social events, your coworkers all gave you poor ratings. That's why this is your year-end bonus."

Around me, the male employees were receiving bonuses in the tens of thousands.

And yet, the women I led—developers who had worked for over ten years and built every core system the company relied on—each received nothing more than a coffee gift card and a mug engraved with the company logo.

I laughed out loud. Then I turned and walked into my office and submitted resignation requests for the entire technical team.

The manager, Preston Alec, sneered. "Good riddance. AI can replace women like you who only know how to have children."

A few days later, the very people who had mocked me were standing in front of me, begging me to come back.

I smiled in return.

"AI conquers everything, doesn't it?"

After receiving my resignation request, the manager, Preston Alec, summoned me to his office with a scowl.

"Kylie! What's with the tantrum? I already explained everything very clearly."

His gaze dropped to my hands. He stared at the mug, then pointed at me.

"That cup was specially approved by me because you're the company's only female engineers. It has commemorative value! And now, instead of thanking me, you're submitting your resignation?"

His words sounded righteous, as if I were the one making a mountain out of a molehill.

I smiled and set the mug down on his desk.

"Take it back. We don't want the year-end bonus, and we don't want this job either."

Ten full years.

When I first brought my team to this company, there were only ten employees. Back then, it was nothing more than an obscure little studio.

We were crammed into a tiny office. To save money, there was no heater in winter, even when temperatures dropped below minus ten degrees. In summer, despite the suffocating heat, there was no air-conditioning—people fainted, and no one cared.

The first version of the security code my team wrote was still the company's flagship protection program to this day.

Watching me, Preston frowned.

"This is all your own fault. You don't fit in with the group. Who are you blaming?"

I let out a cold laugh.

"Really? Then let me ask you, Preston—our firewall is under hacker attacks every single day. When you all go out to socialize, who is it that intercepts the data for the entire company?"

He snorted and waved dismissively.

"Who in this company hasn't worked overtime? Everyone has. It's just a few lines of code—don't make it sound so complicated! I think you're just scheming for overtime pay. Let me be clear: I won't give you a single cent. And don't even think about that extra maternity subsidy for your team member."

I shouted back, "Why shouldn't it be paid? Eva worked right up until the day she gave birth! She went home to rest and came back to work in less than half a month! On what grounds do you refuse to pay her?

"And besides, this was what you promised back then—"

My words made Preston burst into laughter.

"What? Did I tell her to get pregnant? Why don't other employees have so many issues? I already approved her paid leave and the basic subsidy. How much more do you want?"

My body began to shake uncontrollably. For the first time, I realized that what stands in front of you is not always a human being—sometimes, it's a beast.

Before I could speak, Preston clapped his hands and continued, "Forget it. Since you want to leave, I won't stop you. Saves me the trouble of notifying you later about your termination."

I stared at him in disbelief.

"What did you say?"

He grabbed a document and slammed it down in front of me.

"Next month's layoff list."

I picked it up in shock. The first name was mine. Right after it came the names of every woman on my team. In the remarks column, it read: Replaceable by AI.

Rage made my whole body tremble.

Why?

The company's security system was built by my team and me.

All of the company's foundational code was typed out by us, line by line.

Every flagship project listed a chief backend engineer—and my name was always there. Every team in charge was my project group.

And now they were telling me my team could be replaced by AI?

I clenched the layoff notice in my fist. So, this was what our ten years amounted to.

AI?

Fine. Then let it replace us.

Perhaps they had overheard my argument with Preston. The hallway was eerily quiet. Colleagues were exchanging looks instead of words.

I forced myself to calm down and went to my team to give them my final instructions.

The moment I left, a heated discussion erupted behind me.

"Kylie's entire team got laid off?"

"I say good riddance. Just a bunch of women—what insight could they have?"

"I heard something about maternity subsidies just now. How shameless. We work ourselves to death, and they get paid for resting!"

"It's right not to give them anything. That's fair. Only work deserves pay!"

Then, suddenly, a "nonconforming" voice reached my ears.

"But their team handles the company's IPO project. If they leave, who's going to take over that project?"

A man lounged back in his office chair, blowing smoke rings.

"Don't joke around. They only handle the underlying data. AI programming can do that now. That's the most basic stuff—easy. Besides, our team has several programmers from top universities. How could we possibly fail to replace them?"

I let out a cold laugh.

Fine. Then let them try to replace us.