The CFO, a man who once audited a trillion-ringgit fund, was already at the “old bus station,” awkwardly holding a wad of cash while Uncle Hassan loaded two crates of forbidden, smuggled Musang King durians into his Mercedes.
“Do not follow that itinerary,” Ming yelled into the phone.
Instead, she slid a piece of paper across the table. It was the original hijacked itinerary.
And the CEO? He had taken the “secret shortcut.” His GPS was spinning in circles. He had just passed the same blue guardhouse three times. Tinyurl Lawatan Johor
“Dear Data Boy, Your spreadsheets were clean. Too clean. You forgot that Johor isn’t just coordinates on a map. It’s Uncle Hassan’s durians. It’s the smell of rain on an oil palm leaf. It’s getting gloriously lost. Next time, just send a pin. PS: The seafood dinner at 19:00? I cancelled it. Go to the hawker center in Kota Tinggi instead. Order the stingray. You’re welcome.”
That was his first mistake.
Ming was a data analyst who hated surprises. His life ran on spreadsheets, pivot tables, and perfectly trimmed URLs. So when his boss, Madam Leong, ordered him to organize a sudden "strategic retreat" for the company’s top brass to Desaru, Johor, he built a digital fortress. The CFO, a man who once audited a
Ming sighed. He closed his laptop. For the first time in his career, he didn’t create a post-mortem report.
“Ming,” the CEO said, wiping chili from his chin. “Best trip I’ve had in years. That Tinyurl… it had character.”
The document was different .
Ming frowned. “There isn’t.”
This time, he didn’t even check if it worked.