Arif strode swiftly down the fourth-floor corridor, leaving behind the echoing, abusive screams of Pak Malik from inside his dark glass office. Dani and a few other coworkers raised their heads from their cubicles, staring at Arif with mouths half-open.

"Rif, are you out of your mind? You talked back to Pak Malik?" Dani hissed as Arif walked past, his face pale at the mere thought of the boss's wrath.

Arif didn't answer. He simply flashed a broad smirk—an expression Dani had never seen on him before. Instead of packing up his things like a chased-away loser, Arif snatched his backpack, kicked the wastebasket near his desk until its contents spilled across the floor, and strutted toward the elevators with light steps.

"Where do you think you're going, Rif?!" the HR manager shrieked, panicking as she chased after him.

"Home! Tell your big bosses I'm taking a permanent leave starting today!" Arif called back cheerfully.

The elevator doors closed, cutting off the astonished stares of everyone on that floor. Once he reached the lobby downstairs, Arif inhaled Jakarta's air deeply. Free. For the first time in three years, he wasn't bound by office hour rules, deadlines, or the threat of termination.

"If today is just going to keep repeating, that means I can do anything, right?" Arif muttered. His eyes locked onto the Frost Circle ring on his finger, which still radiated a faint chill.

His first experiment began.

That day, Arif decided to become a true rebel. He didn't return to his boarding room. Instead of pinching pennies, he withdrew the last hundred thousand rupiah from his ATM and headed to the city's largest downtown mall. He walked into a premium-class cinema, bought a VIP ticket, and grabbed the largest bucket of caramel popcorn. He watched an action movie with his legs stretched out comfortably, laughing out loud when the hero blew up a building while other moviegoers glared at him in annoyance. He even shouted back when theater staff reprimanded him. Everything felt so liberating.

That night, he ignored the heavy downpour drenching Jakarta. He danced under the rain on the Sudirman sidewalk, singing a rock song in an off-key voice, causing pedestrians to step aside thinking he was a newly minted madman. He fell asleep under a busway shelter, exhausted yet feeling intensely alive.

Ring! Ring! Ring!

Arif woke up gasping for air. Cold sweat soaked his body. The wall fan in his boarding room whirred loudly, cycling the stuffy air. He glanced at his phone. 6:00 AM.

"Damn it..." he whispered, staring at the digital calendar that once again displayed the exact same date as his firing day.

Second experiment. Yesterday's feeling of freedom transformed into exploding irritation. This time, Arif had no intention of having fun. He woke up, stared at the stack of bills on his desk, and tore the papers into tiny fragments. When his mother's call rang at 6:15 AM, he grabbed his phone and smashed it against the wall until the screen shattered into a thousand spiderwebs.

"I don't care! I don't care about any of this!" he yelled at the empty room.

He headed to the office with emotions boiling over since stepping out of the boarding house gate. When Dani greeted him with, "Morning, Rif," Arif merely snorted harshly and kicked his desk chair over.

When the intercom buzzed and Pak Malik called for him, Arif walked into his boss's office not with fear, but with a rage ready to detonate. The moment he sat down and Pak Malik opened his mouth about "restructuring," Arif didn't let him finish his sentence.

"You're the one who sucks at your job!" Arif shouted, slamming the mahogany desk so hard that Pak Malik's coffee cup spilled over important files. "You're corrupt, arrogant, and a bloodsucker! Do you think I don't know how rotten the management is here?!"

Pak Malik's face flushed crimson. He stood up, pointing a shaking finger at Arif's face. "Security! Call security! Drag this madman out!"

Arif didn't care. He grabbed the envelope containing his termination letter, crumpled it into a rough ball, and hurled it straight at Pak Malik's face before two bulky security guards dragged him out of the room by force in front of all the employees watching in horror.

That night, Arif was kicked out of the building, vagrant on the streets with a bloody nose from a minor scuffle with the guards, and eventually fell asleep in an empty neighborhood watch post with a severely starving stomach.

Ring! Ring! Ring!

6:00 AM. Thin mattress. Whirring fan. An intact stack of bills on the desk. An undamaged phone without a single crack.

"Bastard!" Arif cursed in frustration, rubbing his face roughly.

He glanced at the Frost Circle ring on his finger. That dull silver, ice-patterned trinket was the root cause of all this madness. The old beggar had trapped him.

Third experiment. Today, Arif didn't go to the office. He didn't care about his firing or Pak Malik. His focus was singular: get rid of this cursed object.

Arif walked to the boarding house kitchen, grabbed an almost-empty bottle of dish soap, and slathered it all over his left fingers. He yanked the ring with all his might. Yet the ring seemed fused to his finger bones, refusing to budge even a millimeter. Even when his skin turned red and blistered from harsh friction, the ring stayed tightly fitted, radiating a mocking chill.

"Off! Off, you bastard!" Arif screamed, using pliers to pull it off, which only caused excruciating pain until he shrieked.

Since it wouldn't come off manually, Arif decided on a more extreme method. He ran out of the room toward a fast-flowing, dirty canal near the traditional market. He stood at the edge of a fragile bamboo bridge, staring at the murky, churning water below.

"If I can't take you off, then I'll throw myself away with you," Arif hissed in desperation.

Without a second thought, Arif leaped into the raging canal. The cold, filthy water instantly engulfed him. He didn't try to swim against the current. He let his body sink to the muddy riverbed, feeling his breath grow tight, his vision darken, and his chest burn from lack of oxygen. In the encroaching darkness, he hoped this torment would end.

Ring! Ring! Ring!

Arif snapped his eyes open wide. He gasped, taking a deep gulp of air like someone who had just barely escaped drowning.

He was back on his boarding house bed. His pajamas were dry. The fan spun above him. The clock read 6:00 AM.

Arif stared blankly at the ceiling. His breath still raced, but his head now felt clear—as clear as the chilling aura from the ring on his finger. He lifted his left hand, looking at the Frost Circle ring resting perfectly, flawless, without a single scratch.

He had tried to run away from reality by having fun. He had tried to rebel by destroying everything. He had even tried to end his pain through suicide. Yet this world seemed to have its own operating system, resetting everything back to square one at 6:00 AM sharp without a trace left behind, ignoring all the devastation he caused the day before.

Arif fell silent for a long time on the bed. A new realization slowly crept into his mind. Panic and frustration began to fade, replaced by a terrifying calmness.

If he couldn't escape today, and if he couldn't die, then he had infinite time. Hundreds, thousands, or even millions of loops to do whatever he wanted without long-term consequences. He could learn, he could investigate, and he could plan the ultimate revenge.

The corners of Arif's lips twitched into a faint smirk. His eyes, previously clouded with despair, now locked on with a razor-sharp gaze.

"Very well, Pak Malik," Arif whispered into the silence of his room. "If I'm trapped in this hell, then I'll make sure you burn right along with me."

He got up from the bed, no longer in a rush. Today, he would go to the office not as a loser ready to be fired, but as an observer who would dig up all the company's dirt right down to its roots.