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

The senior management disappeared as a group, HR went into hiding, and no one wanted to step forward. Calls went unanswered, and messages were ignored.

In the end, the people pushed to the front line to face the outside world were the newcomers 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.”

At this point, I just want to leave.

My first trip abroad ✈️, a tatami-floored room, the sea in Okinawa 🏝️, sanitized air, clean distance, and delicious chicken noodles—it was simply so much fun.

Only then did I realize—

True safety isn’t learning to endure inside a company; it’s finally walking away.

Li✠Yu has somewhat thick eyebrows and a rounded nose. His distinctive style is that during interviews, he pretends to be reserved and quiet, then suddenly brings a newcomer into a meeting room, pulls out a chair, sits down, and skips even the small talk, jumping straight into an AI proposal with no setup whatsoever.

When the newcomer tentatively shares their thoughts, he casually adds: “Oh, right, I’ve already promised the client that this Line proposal will be delivered next week, but I think you can do it.”

That tone is 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 falls short of the perfect version that exists only in his mind, he immediately turns hostile: “How could you submit something like this? How can you not even make it sound good? That’s your problem.”

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

Jack is another kind of disaster. He is thin, with deep-set eyes, forever resembling a volcano crater that has not had enough sleep 🌋, with emotions ready to erupt at any moment. At one meeting, he pointed directly at a newcomer and shouted: “Where’s the report? Didn’t I say this was a must? 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 malfunctioning disinfecting machine—not only failing to clean, but spraying bacteria everywhere.

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

After the work was finished, he would come back to twist the knife: “How could you do it this way? Isn’t this an erroneous decision? Didn’t I tell you that a long time ago?”

He spoke as though everything had been predicted long ago, yet never admitted that he had not explained himself clearly in the first place.

Xu✠Long looked exactly like Scar from The Lion King wearing a suit—tall, broad-shouldered, always dressed in a crisp shirt, yet with eyes as cold as an unsanitized surgical scalpel. He wore thin-framed glasses and spoke softly, like the person offering 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 employee: “You’d better watch out for so-and-so. He clearly didn’t understand the requirements in yesterday’s meeting, yet someone like that can be a manager.”

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

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

James always wore a wrinkled T-shirt, looking like “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 newcomer to buy a limited-edition vanilla chocolate ice cream 🍦, saying he would pay. When it arrived, he frowned: “When did I ask you to buy this? Don’t keep reminding me about such trivial things.”

When the newcomer brought it up again, he replied coldly: “Do you think you did something important? Don’t waste time doing things like this in the future.”

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

Lynn from HR (Lu?) always wore a mask. During interviews, when the other person asked about salary and job duties, she would smile with her full cheeks and narrowed eyes, replying in a scholarly tone: “Don’t you think that’s a boring question? Why would anyone ask that in an interview? Isn’t it different from what you expected?” She would show concern about your experience, trying to persuade the interviewee to accept the open position.

Once the newcomer actually joined and discovered that the compensation differed greatly from what had initially been promised, she would say blandly afterward: “Oh, right, I forgot to mention it. This is the company’s standard salary. Isn’t it a bit petty to quibble over these things? 🍋”

She would even add another twist of the knife: “If you’re not satisfied, leave. Many people leave the company every month. You’re no more than a little ball on a basketball court—you’ll fall out soon enough.”