Later, the company really did run into trouble—it was investigated.

The senior management collectively disappeared, HR hid away, and no one wanted to step forward. Calls went unanswered, and messages received no replies.

In the end, the people pushed to face the outside world on the front line were the new hires who had joined just 36 days earlier.

They were like safety officers without protective gear, being told to “respond calmly” and “the company believes in you.”

Right now, I just want to leave.

My first trip abroad ✈️, a tatami-floored room, the sea in Okinawa 🏝️, disinfected air, clean personal space, and delicious chicken noodles—it was all just too much fun.

It was only then that I realized—

true safety isn’t about learning to tough it out inside a company; it’s finally about walking away.

Li✠Yu has notably thick eyebrows, a rounded nose, and a particularly distinctive manner. During interviews, he would pretend to be reserved and quiet, then suddenly lead a new hire into a meeting room, pull out a chair, sit down, and skip even the small talk, jumping straight into an AI proposal with no introduction at all.

When the new hire tentatively shared their ideas, he would casually add: “Oh, right—the client has already agreed that I’ll deliver this Line proposal next week, but I think you can do it.”

That tone was like a safety officer inspecting equipment, stuffing an unexploded bomb into a recruit’s hands, and then saying, “I believe in you.”

When the result failed to match the nonexistent perfect version in his mind, he would immediately turn hostile: “How could you submit something like this? How can you not even make it sound better? This is your problem.”

From beginning to end, he never examined his own promises or judgment.

Jack was another kind of disaster. Thin and hollow-eyed, he always looked like a volcano crater that had not slept enough 🌋, with his emotions ready to erupt at any moment. At one meeting, he pointed directly at a new hire and shouted: “Where’s the report? Didn’t I say this was absolutely necessary? We have to coordinate with the Taipei Dome this month—what are you dragging your feet for?”

Then his volume spiraled out of control: “Do you know the company is almost out of money? Everyone has to work themselves to the bone, and you’re still moving so slowly!”

Especially on Mondays and Fridays 🎧, his emotions were like a broken disinfection machine: instead of cleaning anything, it sprayed bacteria everywhere.

“You can actually ask a question like that? You’re only understanding what I’m saying now? You don’t even have basic logic—how dare you come work for the company?”

After the task was finished, he would still come back for another stab: “How could you do it this way? Isn’t this an erroneous decision? Didn’t I say so from the beginning?”

He spoke as though everything had been prophesied, yet never admitted that he had not explained himself clearly at all.

Xu✠Long was remarkably like Scar from The Lion King wearing a suit—tall, broad-shouldered, and always dressed in a crisp shirt, yet with eyes as cold as a scalpel that had not been disinfected., wearing thin-rimmed glasses and speaking softly and gently, like the person handing over the apple in Snow White 🍎. What he was best at was not work, but planting poison between people.

He would privately tell a new .NET hire: “You’d better watch out for so-and-so. He had no idea what the requirements were in yesterday’s meeting, yet someone like that can be a manager.”

Then he would slowly instill fear: “Honestly, this company stopped being suitable for people like you a long time ago. I’m just worried about you—how long can you hold on?”

He did not spare other colleagues either. While eating noodles at lunch, with the background sounds of a claw machine, he would casually discuss other people’s private lives and minor flaws, making the entire office feel like an undisinfected public space, filled with invisible pressure.

James always wore a wrinkled T-shirt and had the look of someone saying, “I’m busy, but I don’t know what I’m busy doing.” His signature skill was forgetting what he had said.

He once asked a new hire to buy limited-edition vanilla chocolate ice cream 🍦, saying he would pay. When it arrived, he frowned: “When did I ever ask you to buy this? Don’t keep reminding me about such trivial matters.”

When the new hire brought it up again, he replied coldly: “Do you think you’ve done something important? Don’t do this kind of time-wasting thing again.”

To him, other people’s efforts were always “being too calculating.”

Lynn from HR (Lu?) always wore a mask. During interviews, when the other person asked about salary and job responsibilities, she would smile with her full cheeks and narrowed eyes, replying in a bookish tone: “Don’t you think that’s a boring question? Who asks about that in an interview? Isn’t it different from what you expected?”, while showing concern about your experience and trying to get the interviewee to agree to fill the vacancy.

Once the new hire actually joined and discovered that the compensation differed drastically from what had initially been described, she would merely say: “Oh, right, I forgot to mention it. This is the company’s standard salary. Isn’t it petty to quibble over these things 🍋?”

She would even add one more blow: “If you’re not satisfied, leave. A lot of people leave the company every month. You’re just a small ball inside a basketball court, and you’ll fall out soon enough.”