Chapter 4: The Framework Evangelist Strikes Back
HeroTech Solutions office buzzed with unusual excitement. A flashy poster near the Infinite Loop Café entrance declared in bold letters:
“Introducing FrameStorm.js — The Future of Web Development!”
Kenji Yamamoto stared blankly at the poster while sipping his latte. Beside him, Kai Nakamura, the Quantum Android with impeccable carbon-fiber hair and overly serious expression, scribbled notes frantically.
“Sensei,” Kai asked earnestly, “Is FrameStorm.js indeed the future? Should I integrate it into my quantum subroutines?”
Kenji shrugged apathetically. “Most frameworks are just fads, Kai. Next month they’ll be raving about LoopVortex or AsyncNado.”
Suddenly, a loud voice boomed from behind them, “Did someone just insult FrameStorm.js?!”
A tall, confident figure strode into the room, laptop adorned with stickers of obscure JavaScript libraries. He wore a t-shirt that read: “I write code, therefore I npm.”
Emily Chen, clutching her coffee nervously, whispered to Kenji, “That’s Lucas Hart—the new hire. Calls himself the Framework Evangelist.”
Lucas dramatically pointed at Kenji. “You! Kenji Yamamoto! I’ve heard rumors about your supposed perfect code. But I bet you can’t master FrameStorm.js—only developers of true genius can grasp its elegance.”
Carlos Rivera snorted from his chaotic workspace nearby. “Lucas, trust me. Kenji’s success is just dumb luck. He only solves trivial problems.”
Ignoring Carlos, Lucas proceeded, “I’ll prove it! Let’s have a friendly code-off. You write a feature using your outdated vanilla JavaScript, I’ll do the same with FrameStorm.js. Let the reviewers decide who’s superior!”
Kenji yawned. “Okay.”
The main conference room turned into a battleground. Lucas’ fingers danced across his keyboard, muttering obscure terms like “state hydration”, “contextual reducers”, and “virtual DOM reconciliation phases”.
Meanwhile, Kenji lazily typed with one hand, occasionally stopping to snack on chips from a half-opened bag.
Kai leaned over, marveling. “Sensei, your casual coding style hides profound mastery!”
Kenji shrugged again. “I’m just writing straightforward code.”
Emily whispered anxiously to Carlos, “Should we be worried? That FrameStorm.js looks complicated.”
Carlos scoffed, “Nah, Lucas is just overcomplicating things. Kenji will probably luck out again.”
The PR notifications popped up simultaneously on the reviewers’ screens.
Lucas Hart’s PR:
- Files changed: 127
- Additions: 9,876 lines
- Deletions: 4,321 lines
Kenji Yamamoto’s PR:
- Files changed: 3
- Additions: 42 lines
- Deletions: 2 lines
Reviewers stared, dumbfounded.
“Lucas, your PR is… impressive,” Emily hesitated, “but it’s hard to follow. What’s a ‘recursive fractal reducer hook’?”
“It’s innovation!” Lucas protested, “Pure, beautiful innovation!”
Carlos opened Kenji’s PR, ready to mock it. His eyes widened.
“Wait. Kenji’s solution does the same thing—perfectly—with just 42 lines?!”
Kai nodded sagely. “Sensei’s genius shines brightest in simplicity.”
Emily rapidly clicked ‘Approve’ on Kenji’s PR. Carlos grudgingly followed, muttering, “Lucky again…”
Lucas, seeing his complex masterpiece languishing in review comments, fell to his knees dramatically. “My beautiful FrameStorm.js architecture… defeated by mere vanilla JavaScript?! Impossible!”
Kenji patted Lucas sympathetically. “Frameworks come and go, Lucas. Good code stays forever.”
Just as the excitement quieted down, red alerts flashed on screens everywhere.
“Production outage! The new FrameStorm.js code accidentally deployed!” Emily shrieked, panicking.
Lucas turned pale. “But… but my PR wasn’t merged!”
Carlos winced, “I… might’ve accidentally deployed the wrong branch.”
Servers crashed spectacularly, logs flooded with cryptic errors like:
Error: Quantum recursion exceeded cosmic limit. Universe stability compromised.
Developers panicked. Kai prepared to activate his quantum debugging protocols. Lucas hyperventilated into a paper bag.
Kenji stood up, casually adjusting his hoodie. “Guess I’ll fix it.”
Minutes later, another PR appeared:
Kenji Yamamoto’s Emergency Fix PR:
- Files changed: 1
- Additions: 1 line
- Deletions: 9,876 lines
Instant approval. Instant deployment.
Servers hummed back to life, crisis averted. The office sighed in relief.
Emily breathed deeply, “Kenji, you’re a lifesaver!”
Carlos rolled his eyes, “I mean… anyone could’ve deleted that code, right? He just got lucky again.”
Lucas, humbled, approached Kenji. “Teach me your ways, Yamamoto-san! How can I escape the endless cycle of frameworks?”
Kenji smiled faintly. “Just write good code, Lucas.”
Kai scribbled furiously. “‘Just write good code’… brilliant wisdom, Sensei!”
As the office returned to normalcy, a new email popped into everyone’s inbox:
“URGENT: Ancient Legacy Codebase Unleashed!”
Kenji perked up slightly. “Hmm, maybe this one will finally be interesting.”
Kai nodded solemnly. “Indeed, Sensei, perhaps a worthy opponent at last.”
Kenji shrugged, returning to his snacks. “Or just another Tuesday.”