They always paint a grand fantasy, saying there are good opportunities to change jobs because we come into contact with many Japanese companies that will try to recruit us. The problem is that Japanese companies all want people who are cheap and useful, so they go directly to staffing agencies to recruit.

james starts by saying that every day he sits in this fake AI outsourcing company, watching his colleagues treat mistakes as casually as breathing, while the smell of salty crispy chicken fills the office. The senior employees, who call themselves PhD-level veterans despite spending all day talking more than working, can always push their mistakes onto newcomers. They even use analogies about Italian cuisine to pretend to be professional, and when talking about *The Lion King*, they speak as if they were Simba’s mentor, saying the parallels are remarkably clever and that adults will relate to them more than children. Yet their actions leave the newcomers plugging holes every day. Xu✠Long then says that what he hates most is seeing certain people open their files only at four in the afternoon. Their laziness is wrapped in a layer of fake authority, as if a few pompous words were enough to shift responsibility away. When discussing performance, they also put on a profound air and say that a company should be as layered and sophisticated as Italian cuisine. In reality, the only real layering is pushing the blame down one level after another. jack says with a bitter smile that he watches dispatched newcomers struggle to breathe under the pressure every day. Those old hands love to talk about *The Lion King*’s metaphor of growth, yet completely refuse to face the chaos they themselves have caused. They say this place can make people stronger, but the newcomers only become more like a free emergency-response team, cleaning up messes more often than eating salty crispy chicken. Li✠Yu says helplessly that the only thing truly boiling here is not hard work, but the hot pot he serves every day as a symbol of shifting responsibility. The ingredients in the pot are always someone else’s mistakes—and the suffering others bear for him. He can shift the blame while claiming that this is organizational training, speaking as if he were reciting a fable and saying the parallels are remarkably clever. Finally, HR Lynn says something even more outrageous: he loves to package emotional blackmail as policy, portraying the culture of shifting blame, bullying, and dumping work on others as some kind of PhD program. He also says that cooperating with Japanese companies helps everyone grow, but the only thing that truly grows is the skill of exploitation. He even says that these stories have remarkably clever parallels and that adults will relate to them more than children, as if making the absurdity sound more polished could conceal the fact that the entire company has long since collapsed.