Era of Mist

Chapter 94: Chapter 93: The Iron Tyrant Becomes a Temporary Worker

Of course, all that prestige was just him being the king of his own little hill.

After a detour through another world line, Shi Tiexin’s perspective had suddenly broadened. When he was little, his rivals were the other orphans he fought for food with. Later, they were the school tyrants at the Star Worker School. His mind was consumed with thoughts of how to overshadow them, how to beat them.

But now, things were different.

He suddenly felt that being the king of the Orphanage was nothing to be proud of. Even the school tyrants at the Star Worker School were just a bunch of low-class small-timers. His rivals should never have been people like them; they should have been the chosen geniuses from Fengming First Middle School.

It should be Zhou Zhengyang, Gu Xuechao, and Fang Qingjue—true geniuses who lacked nothing in talent, passion, effort, or perseverance. And the goal he should be chasing shouldn’t be the title of some school tyrant; he should set his sights on the truly strong.

For instance, a certain head nurse from the Upper City Central Hospital.

’Yes, I should be chasing after someone young, with astonishing cultivation... uh... with fair skin and a beautiful face, petite and delicate... and most importantly, her... chest...’

BUZZ. The wristband vibrated again.

’I know, I know! You don’t have to keep buzzing at me half-heartedly, wristband. I know that’s my creditor, you don’t have to keep reminding me!’

’One thousand value points. That’s no small sum.’

At that thought, Shi Tiexin lost his composure and stomped his way toward the sixth floor of the building.

The first through fifth floors of the building housed various activity rooms, a cafeteria, and even so-called ”classrooms.” The sixth floor was for administration, while the seventh floor and up was the dormitory area. The dean’s office was located on the sixth floor, in the spot that got the most sunlight.

Just as Shi Tiexin reached the dean’s office, the door opened. A man in a crisp uniform strode out first, looking arrogant, followed by a greasy middle-aged man in his forties or fifties.

”Don’t see me out,” the uniformed man said curtly, turning his head. ”When the time comes, have everyone assembled. I’m coming to take my pick. If I’m not satisfied, our future cooperation might be in jeopardy.”

”Rest assured, sir. They’ll be the best candidates, the best workers!” the middle-aged man said, bowing and scraping like a fawning dog. His old-fashioned wristband buzzed right on cue with his ingratiating smile. The young man in the uniform seemed to receive some message and nodded, slightly satisfied.

Turning his head, the young uniformed man saw Shi Tiexin. He looked Shi Tiexin up and down, his gaze like someone inspecting livestock. With a final snort, he strode off.

Shi Tiexin saw the nameplate on the man’s chest—Zhang Quan, Officer, Human Resources Department, Star Worker Industry.

Shi Tiexin frowned. ’Is it that time of year again, when employers come to pick people?’ He felt a surge of displeasure, watching with a blank expression as the arrogant Zhang Quan walked away. Then he turned to look at the greasy man.

This man might have once had a thick head of hair, but now he was completely bald. Perhaps he wasn’t short, but years of groveling had left him with a subconscious stoop. This thoroughly unimposing man was the dean of the Orphanage, Situ Zhennan.

After seeing Zhang Quan off, Situ Zhennan gestured to Shi Tiexin. ”Come in.”

Even though he said ”Come in,” he didn’t head into the office. Instead, he quickly closed the main office door and turned into a small one to the side. The moment Shi Tiexin stepped through, he saw a room that was a complete mess, like a dog’s den stuffed with all sorts of things.

Shi Tiexin wasn’t surprised. He had been the Iron Tyrant since he was thirteen and had dealt with Dean Situ many times. The dean’s official office was tidy and luxurious, but the old baldy never used it unless he was receiving guests. He normally kept it sealed up; if no dust could get in and it was never used, it never needed cleaning. The old baldy had his own ”dog den” for his daily work.

In his own words: ”Who has time to put on airs? There are over two thousand mouths to feed!”

”Have a seat.” Clearing a nest-like spot from a messy pile of junk, Situ the Bald said to Shi Tiexin, ”You saw what just happened. In a few days, Star Worker Industry will be coming to select people. When the time comes, gather everyone. Let them take however many they’ll pick.”

Shi Tiexin nodded. This was a tradition at the Orphanage.

The Orphanage’s funding was extremely limited. It only raised orphans until they turned sixteen, the legal age for employment. After that, they had to figure things out for themselves. Of course, the Orphanage didn’t just throw them out into society to sink or swim; it would provide a work opportunity.

Tumu Castle was an agricultural city, and the industries around the Mu Yuan District—such as agriculture, animal husbandry, aquaculture, and even secondary industries like papermaking—were quite developed. By law, these industries were required to hire orphans in proportion to their scale. Conveniently, these labor-intensive industries were also always in need of workers, so they came to select people every year.

There were several paper mills, but among the companies that came to recruit, Star Worker Industry offered relatively good conditions. The pay for working there was better than at the farms and much, much better than at the Waste Dust Factory.

Every year at this time, orphans who had turned fifteen were gathered for a ”trial period” of about a year. Only those who passed the trial were kept on as hired workers. As for those who didn’t, it went without saying—they were tossed back into society to fend for themselves.

This annual ”selection” had a few nicknames at the Orphanage. The nicest of them was ”picking eunuchs and choosing palace maids.” The nastier ones were too numerous to count. Most of the children at the Orphanage were experts at swearing, capable of coming up with the most vile-sounding things.

It couldn’t be helped. As the saying goes, etiquette and honor only matter on a full stomach. Where would they get the money to hire teachers for a proper, nurturing education? The children here were like wild weeds—a strange and unruly bunch, but tenacious.

”You can handle the selection. There’s something else I need to tell you.” Dean Situ scratched his bald head. ”I found an in with a security company. After a whole lot of begging and pleading, I managed to pull some old strings. The thing is, they don’t really trust us, so they want one of our own to work a one-month trial period to see our quality. I’ve thought long and hard about it, and you’re the best fit.”

Dean Situ looked at Shi Tiexin and nodded, satisfied. ”You have the right look, and your overall caliber is the highest in the orphanage. Plus, you’ve been to school and you don’t talk much, so you’re not likely to let something slip when speaking with the company’s leadership. I wouldn’t dare send any of those little bastards who can’t control their mouths.”

Shi Tiexin wasn’t surprised. He had planned to ask the dean today if there were any odd jobs he could do to pay off his debt. This opportunity with the security company was much better than anything he had envisioned.

There was just one problem.

”Is there pay for the trial period?”

Most trial jobs were unpaid, at least for the orphans. You could work yourself to death for a whole year, perform as well as you could, and not get a single cent in the end—you might even have to subsidize it with your own money.

”Yes,” the dean said with a firm nod. ”They cover meals but not lodging during the trial, but you can come back here to sleep. They pay by the day, ten points a day, but they’ll dock your pay if you break the rules or perform poorly.”

’Ten points a day? So I’ll need to work a full ten days just to scrape together the money for the first debt installment? This pay rate isn’t bad; it’s even a bit higher than I’d hoped. Ten days... It should be just enough. It’ll be cutting it close, a little tight. I might come up a little short. Besides, the lesser township exam has registration and exam fees too. I’ll have to find another way to make up the difference, but it should be doable.’

’The gig itself is pretty good.’

’Oh, right, there’s one more thing.’

”Can I take leave after I start working?”