Surat Pemberitahuan Penonaktifan | Pekerja Dari Pimpinan Perusahaan

"Pak Arya, Pak Budi requests your presence. Meeting Room C. Bring your access card."

"This is wrong," Arya said, his voice trembling. "I rejected that batch. You can check the secondary system."

Pak Budi slid a second paper forward. It was a copy of the release form. And there, in the signature box, was a scrawled "Arya P." A forgery. A clumsy one. "Pak Arya, Pak Budi requests your presence

He ignored it. He had a batch of raw materials to inspect by 9 AM. But five minutes later, Ms. Ratna appeared at his cubicle. She wasn't smiling.

"Pak Arya," Pak Budi began, folding his hands. "Surat ini dikeluarkan berdasarkan evaluasi menyeluruh atas efisiensi operasional perusahaan." "I rejected that batch

His eyes scanned the paragraphs. He had drafted a thousand technical reports in his life, but this was a different kind of document. It was cold. Surgical. "Dengan ini Pimpinan Perusahaan memberitahukan bahwa terhitung mulai tanggal 15 November 2024, Saudara Arya Prasetyo, S.T., dinonaktifkan dari jabatannya sebagai Kepala Quality Control." He stopped breathing. "Penonaktifan ini bersifat sambil menunggu proses investigasi lebih lanjut terkait dugaan penyimpangan prosedur pada produksi batch terakhir. Selama masa penonaktifan, Saudara dilarang memasuki area operasional perusahaan dan mengakses seluruh sistem internal." Dugaan penyimpangan? Alleged deviation. Arya felt his face flush. The batch he had just inspected that morning? The one he passed as safe? He looked up at Pak Budi.

Jakarta, Indonesia. The 27th floor of a sleek glass office tower. And there, in the signature box, was a scrawled "Arya P

Ms. Ratna slid a single sheet of paper across the polished teak table. The letterhead was the company's gold embossed logo. The title read in bold:

This time, the envelope was for him.