As the two senior executives entered the room, Tyrone gestured for them to take a seat on the sofa. In a composed tone, he asked, "Please, tell me what happened."

One of the executives, who was in charge of the branch, seemed a Little on edge as he replied, “Mr. Blakely, I bear the brunt for this incident. I should've been more vigilant. I was oblivious to the janitor's drinking habit at work and his activation of the machine in a drunken stupor. Another janitor on duty that day claimed his inability to prevent him. This was an unprecedented situation."

"That's no justification for such an incident to occur at present."

The senior manager found himself at a loss for words.

His complexion paled, and he felt a profound sense of shame.

Considering there were three janitors on duty that day, why couldn't the other two prevent the tragedy from unfolding?

Clearly, they hadn't put in enough effort. Following the fire outbreak, they feared the repercussions and conveniently pinned the blame on the deceased worker.

An uneasy silence filled the office.

The other executive, Harrell Palmer, who was handling public relations, had hurriedly arrived at the scene of the accident and attempted to contain it, but the news had leaked nonetheless.

Harrell proposed, "Mr. Blakely, given the circumstances, our primary task should be to manage public opinion and limit the fallout. I'll meet with the deceased worker's family and negotiate with them. That's the best approach as of now."

Tyrone's gaze was firmly fixed on the executive in charge of the branch.

The executive instantly straightened. "I'm in accord with Harrell. Our primary goal should be to alleviate the media pressure, followed by a behind-the-scenes negotiation. Just a monetary compromise should suffice. Continuing to allow Julius to cause chaos will only spell disaster for the company."

Casually leaning back on the couch with his right hand resting on the armrest, his fingers rhythmically drumming against it, Tyrone remarked, "The situation is deteriorating. There's bound to be journalists swarming Julius’ residence by now. If we try to handle this privately, it'll look like an admission of guilt. The verdict isn't out yet. We should be patient."

Harrell, however, begged to differ. “Lately, the company has been receiving negative publicity, causing the stocks to plummet, much to the shareholders’ discontent. Let's not concern ourselves with the outcome. Regardless of the deceased's fault, it would be a compassionate gesture on our part to treat the deceased's family well, which could also protect the company's image."

"Harrell, you were always a person of stature. The development of the branch owes a lot to you. Why have you grown so faint-hearted over the years?"

Harrell was Left dumbfounded.

“The reporters have their sights set on Blakely Group. Do you believe we can alter public opinion by secretly offering the deceased worker's family money? What would our course of action be if a similar event were to occur in the future? If we're truly at fault, we will voluntarily offer compensation. But if we're innocent, why should we bear the loss?"

The executive cast a sidelong glance at Harrell.

Given Tyrone's persistence, Harrell let out a sigh, instructing the executive, "Follow Mr. Blakely's orders. Be mindful of your choice of words with the press awaiting downstairs. Neither be too assertive nor too submissive. Wait for the police's investigation result:

The executive, regaining his composure, concurred, “Understood.”