The Security Guard Everyone Thought Was a Hidden Big Shot

Bai Ke suddenly understood. He nodded like a pecking chicken.
“Got it.”
He had already imagined the “generous” superior’s frantic yet helpless expression upon seeing his work hours plummet.

What’s done is done. Could he make his own subordinates spit it back out?

Just thinking about it felt satisfying.
Not just a little. Very satisfying.

He knew that although the faces of his colleagues showed sympathy, they were all secretly pleased.

Dealing with colleague relationships alive was trickier than dealing with corpses.

Su Lai glanced calmly at the time.
“6:30. Half an hour until dinner ends.”
“Cousin, eat up. You still have to work tonight.”

With that, Su Lai walked towards the serving window with the ID card.

The auntie glanced at him, expressionless.
“Still just white rice?”

Su Lai: “One order of boiled fish scales and spicy lobster heads, plus eleven bowls of wontons.”
He counted the Admin department staff, including the director.

If the implicit rule was that new employees must order the same meal as their department colleagues, then the wontons Bai Ke had accidentally ordered naturally counted. Since the Admin crew hadn’t ordered wontons, he’d order some for them too.

Exactly the same, of course. No more, no less.
The rules did mention that colleagues were very hungry anyway. Eating a bit more wasn’t a problem.

The auntie looked at him suspiciously, then pointed at the card reader.
“23 work hours total.”

That was the number of hours a security guard would need to work continuously for 46 hours without eating, drinking, or sleeping to earn.

Su Lai didn’t care. He took the director’s card and swiped it cheerfully. The balance showed 7717 work hours.
Even he was stunned. Damn, high-ranking employees had this many work hours saved up?

Not using some to reward subordinates would be a shame.
Su Lai was just doing a good deed, acting on their behalf. Maintaining good relationships with subordinates was also important for a leader.

The auntie, busy serving, asked casually.
“How come this card has so much money?”
“Your card?” She asked intentionally, a hint of suspicion in her eyes.

Su Lai, standing outside the case, was most worried not about the director, but about the auntie.
What if she noticed the cardholder and the swiper weren’t the same and refused to let him use it?

Luckily, the card reader display showed no information about the swiper.

But the balance itself was enough to arouse suspicion. As a security guard who had just joined less than a day ago, he couldn’t possibly have a four-digit number of work hours.

Su Lai looked the auntie in the eyes and said sincerely.
“It’s my secondary card. The specific reason involves work secrets, so I can’t disclose it.”

The auntie didn’t ask further. She packed the eleven bowls of wontons and the two dishes on a tray and handed them to Su Lai.
“The last time I saw a new employee deliberately splash something on a director was in a CEO romance novel.”
“I haven’t been able to enjoy similar scenes since. They just feel fake.” The auntie sighed, a little resentful.

Su Lai comforted her.
“Auntie, in CEO novels, it’s always the CEO getting splashed, not a director. And they splash coffee or red wine, not gutter oil.”

The auntie glanced at him.
“You’ve read quite a few yourself.”

Su Lai waved his hand.
“Listening to something passes the time on delivery routes.”
“But I listen to horror and infinite flow stories.”

The auntie: “Recommend some good ones. I’m thinking of switching genres. Something both scary and romantic.”

Su Lai: “No problem. I know all the tropes about falling for unspeakable evil ghosts.”
His delivery routes were long and boring. He’d listened to a bit of everything.

The numbness on the auntie’s face finally cracked. She actually smiled.
“Good. Come again.”

The NPCs waiting in line were stunned. So the cafeteria auntie had a “smile” service option?

“Definitely.” Su Lai called Bai Ke over.
“Help me take these eleven bowls of wontons to your colleagues.”

“This…” Bai Ke looked at the cafeteria auntie, then at the card in Su Lai’s hand. He paused for half a second.
“Lai-ge, thanks a lot.”
His voice was low, but his tone was firm. He enunciated clearly.

Bai Ke understood, of course, that Lai-ge had used the gutter oil to offend the director in order to solve his own crisis of not being able to fit into the lunch group.

Su Lai was unconcerned.
“Just supporting the auntie’s business.”

Bai Ke smiled.
“I’ve noticed you’re particularly good at winning the favor of aunties.”

True. Wherever Lai-ge appeared, the sense of relaxation was never lacking.
With Lai-ge backing him up, he straightened his back and placed the eleven bowls of wontons steadily in front of his colleagues.
“This is from my cousin… I mean, from my fellow newcomer. He’s treating everyone.”

He then placed the boiled fish scales and spicy lobster heads in front of himself. The fish scales shimmered dully in the slimy sauce,
reminding him of the nails of cadavers preserved in formaldehyde.

And the lobster heads—whether brains or uncleaned innards—stared at him with dull, greyish eyes through the thick grease.

Bai Ke felt sick, even missing Uncle Wang’s chopping-board-flavored watermelon.

The Admin staff exchanged glances, then turned their gaze in unison to Su Lai.
“Employee 1725, your fellow newcomer here is…?”

Bai Ke’s face even showed a hint of pride.
“The sole security guard of the building’s Security department.”

“Nice to meet you.” Su Lai added.
“Eat up, don’t be shy. We’re all colleagues now. Look out for each other.”

His words didn’t sound like a new employee trying to fit into the group. More like a young tough recruiting underlings.

“I’m not just a security guard. I also do delivery on the side. Contact me anytime via the security desk landline.” Always mindful of drumming up business, he quickly added.
“As long as the delivery fee is right, I’ll deliver anything, including people. I’ll even deliver them to their final destination, alive or dead.”

His tone was sincere, his face honest. He almost pulled out his performance record.

The expressions on the NPCs’ faces grew even more colorful.

The rules hadn’t lied. These colleagues were indeed hungry. They buried their heads in the wontons and ate with gusto. Dried scallions and solidified lard clung to their lips, but they didn’t seem to mind.

Not long after, the Admin Director emerged from the bathroom. He silently looked at Su Lai in his security uniform, then at the wontons on the table. His lips twitched, but he said nothing and sat down.

From his expression, Su Lai could tell he hadn’t noticed his ID card had been swapped.
This prop was really good quality.

“Director, the new security guard treated us to this,” the assistant beside him spoke up.
“New cafeteria item, wontons. They’re good.”

“Speaking of which, how does the new security guard have so many work hours to treat the whole Admin department to wontons?”
“I find it strange too. Wontons aren’t that expensive, but buying for over ten people isn’t cheap. Security guards have very low work hour multipliers, don’t they?”
“I heard the security guard position is special. Only connected people can hold it.”
“This new 1501 seems pretty comfortable. Could he be connected?”

“Isn’t it obvious? Who else would have this many work hours if not someone connected? I doubt he’s just an ordinary connected person. Maybe connected at the founder level.”

“I think so too. He dared to pour oil on the Admin Director’s head. Who would do that without backing?”
“Exactly. He walks around with such confidence. If he weren’t wearing a uniform, I’d think he owned the building.”
“There’s a saying: the unassuming master. The security guard position is the modern-day unassuming master.”
“Isn’t that a janitor?”
“Security guard, janitor—one word off. Same difference.”

“Not simple. Anyway, based on my years of instinct, this security guard definitely has a suspicious background!”

The nearby employees started murmuring, surreptitiously eyeing this unconventional new guard.
The more they talked, the more convinced they became. The new security guard had people behind him.

Bai Ke was suddenly in a good mood. He joined in.
“Cousin, you don’t really have people behind you, do you?”

Su Lai: “Are you cursing me to see ghosts? How unlucky.”

Bai Ke laughed.
“That would be the ghosts’ bad luck.”

The oil-drenched director still smelled of chili oil. The resentment in his heart hadn’t subsided. But he looked at the calm security guard, listened to the lively discussion at the next table, and grew more alarmed.

Good thing he hadn’t lost his temper. It would be bad to offend a new colleague with connections!
In the workplace, you needed this kind of endurance. It might save your job.

And this security guard seemed close to his department’s 1725. The money for the damages had come from 1725.
Maybe 1725 was also a connected new employee, sent to his department for training without prior notice…

The more the director thought, the more reasonable it seemed. He decided to bury his head and eat his half-cooked wontons.
He glanced at the security guard eating in the cafeteria, and in the end, didn’t even waste the soup with floating oil.

The bowl of wontons and two greasy cafeteria meals left Bai Ke’s face pale and sallow.

The white rice was fine. Su Lai went back to the window for another bowl.
The night was long. A security guard needed energy for physical tasks. He had to eat enough.

Everyone’s eyes were on Su Lai at the window. The auntie also looked at him meaningfully.
“Are you really a connected person?”

Su Lai played dumb.
“Who said that?”

Auntie: “Everyone.”

Su Lai deliberately paused.
“They’re talking nonsense.”

The auntie and the employees waiting in line saw his reluctant denial and started murmuring again.
The more he denied, the less they believed him. The rumors grew more outrageous, and soon, falsehoods became truths.

This “connected person” misunderstanding would give him advantages in this building.

Though Su Lai had never had a proper office job, he knew that in any environment, people liked to pick on soft persimmons. If you gave the impression of being a hard bench, no one would dare bump or step on you.

“Auntie, you seem different from them.” Su Lai chatted with her while waiting.
Compared to the numb social beasts, the cafeteria auntie’s emotions were much more lively, and chatting with her was interesting.

The auntie filled his bowl to the brim.
“Different how?”

Su Lai: “You seem more normal.”

The auntie said casually.
“Because I’m an outsourced worker.”

Back at his seat, the commotion caused by the gutter oil quickly subsided. The Admin Director didn’t make an issue of it, quietly eating his meal. The cafeteria returned to its dull bustle.

Bai Ke, eating his fish scales and lobster heads as if undergoing torture, observed the other players in the cafeteria.

Not all new players had quickly realized the importance of fitting into the colleague group.

The female客服 agent with ID 1723 was also eating alone in a corner, keeping her distance from her department colleagues, quietly enduring her memorable terrible meal.

The surviving Sales employee, face etched with exhaustion, tried to sit with his department’s NPC group. But lacking enough work hours to buy the same dishes, he was isolated on the outside.

He moved his tray twice. Each time, his department colleagues moved their chairs away like repelling magnets, muttering curses. Finally, he gave up, sitting dejectedly five meters away, pretending to fit in.

The two Human Resources players had realized the trick to choosing meals even earlier than Bai Ke and had earned enough work hours. They were careful at the window, ordering the same parent-child boiled slices set meal as their department, blending seamlessly in.

The two Tech and R&D players seemed to know each other, eating together and analyzing the instance.

Bai Ke lamented silently. He didn’t know what punishment awaited those players who couldn’t fit in.
If there was punishment, what form would it take?

As a player himself, he didn’t say it out loud, but he knew: simple guesswork would never give a precise answer. Only by trying could you discover the specific hidden rules.

And living players are the weights for testing the rules.

“By the way, Lai-ge, you asked me to look into that female former colleague who died in the elevator.” Bai Ke suddenly remembered what he had learned, lowering his voice.
“I haven’t had a chance to go to the archive room yet, but I heard something.”

“A few years ago, a female colleague did die in the elevator. Word is she died horribly. Her ears and tongue were cut off on the spot…”
“That matches the description of the female ghost… female colleague you mentioned.”

As he spoke, Bai Ke glanced at the expensive sugar-glazed ears and tongue sashimi in the display case. He felt sick again.
He covered his mouth for a while before recovering.

Su Lai: “Murder?”

Bai Ke shook his head.
“From what I heard from colleagues, it was suicide.”

Su Lai: “Suicide in an elevator? With her ears and tongue cut off?”
It seemed highly unlikely, very strange.

Bai Ke: “Apparently, it was extremely bloody… The female colleague was from Customer Service. Her ID was 1213. Once I can unlock the archive room plot, I’ll find you more info.”

Su Lai: “I’ll check the elevator again when I slack off on patrol.”
In this hellhole called Fortuitous Retribution Building, an employee ID was synonymous with identity. Now that he knew the elevator female ghost’s ID and department, maybe talking to her would yield new discoveries.

Bai Ke: “Seems being a security guard is better. You can slack off.”

Su Lai: “If you consider yourself a salted fish, you can slack off anywhere.”

Bai Ke smiled bitterly.
“During orientation, the head interviewer emphasized that positions here are fluid. No department is a sure thing. With such big differences in multipliers, some players will definitely stab colleagues in the back to get into higher-multiplier positions.”

Su Lai grew slightly serious.
“I wonder if anyone will try to take my slacker security guard spot.”

Bai Ke looked at him thoughtfully and shook his head.
“A 0.5 multiplier is too low to survive on.”

And though he envied Lai-ge’s ability to slack off on the job, he knew that only a boss like Lai-ge could pull it off.

Security might look easy, but in this bizarre building, the patrol itself was a huge contamination risk, let alone the ghosts encountered along the way.

Bai Ke couldn’t help asking.
“Lai-ge, why aren’t you afraid of ghosts at all? Any tips for maintaining mental stability?”

Su Lai countered.
“We live a few decades, then we die anyway, right?”

Bai Ke nodded. Su Lai said expressionlessly.
“We’ll all be ghosts after we die. Why be afraid?”

Bai Ke choked, then gave a wry thumbs-up.
“Good point. Different paths, same destination. You’re very insightful.”

Just like all the food in this cafeteria was pre-prepared.
All living people are pre-prepared ghosts.

Thinking about it that way, he wasn’t afraid anymore.