I honestly inform Mr. Policeman about my suspicions of the company next door. After all, this company has existed since before I was employed at my present company. To be able to remain hidden for so many years meant that they knew how to hide the evidence and cover up their tracks.
Also, I actually can't prove that the company next door is involved in a pyramid scheme.
Strange costumes and eccentric behavior are never valid charges.
The reason I called the police was because I was worried about Mr. A's safety. He had eaten that mutated mushroom man. Who knew what would happen if he waited a little while. It wasn't as though I could monitor him and resolve the problem in time.
As for whether the police could solve anything that involved supernatural events, I'm quite confident.
This is a result of simple deduction through logic.
The medium who's good at exorcism, Madam Dai, is Officer Deng's fiancée;
The police department collaborator, Old Neil, is also sensitive to ghosts and obviously has a solution for dealing with them;
The mysterious cult that Officer Deng reminded me to watch out for can create extraordinary beings.
Based on these points, it's easy to conclude that the police have a deeper understanding of supernatural powers.
Since they have a deeper understanding, they definitely wouldn't lack the strength and solutions to deal with it.
Putting away my phone, I glance sideways at the company next door that's still "normal." Suppressing my concern, I return to my desk and start working.
I'm plagued by all kinds of trivial matters for my last project the entire morning. I was so busy that I didn't even have time to poop on company time.
As noon approaches, my phone suddenly buzzes.
I pick it up and see an unfamiliar number.
Who is it? A scammer? Some advertising agent? It's not listed… I mutter as I pick up.
"Hello, were you the one who called the police. You said that Aurora Company at 10-188 at Fengfei Road is suspected to be involved in a pyramid scheme?" A slightly tired voice comes from the other end of the phone.
The police are already here? Have they done the investigation? At that moment, questions flashed through my mind before a scene surfaces:
The cosplayer cultist, Mr. A who looks like a beautiful man, is covered in mushrooms with golden spots. He wobbles as he walks towards the police.
How terrifying… I can't help but shiver and hurriedly reply, "Yes, I called the police.
"I think their behavior is very suspicious. Did… did you find anything?"
"They're a legit company." The policeman on the other end of the line sighs and says, "You can't think that they're involved in a pyramid scheme just because they hold parties early in the morning. There are countless companies that shout slogans and even dance every morning."
"But, one look at their gathering and you can tell it's not normal," I subconsciously retort.
The policeman on the other end of the line says helplessly, "Can't they cosplay in the morning? Can't they have a masquerade party in the morning?
"You can complain about them disturbing the peace, but you can't say that they're running a pyramid scheme.
"They already explained that this is the company's corporate culture."
Can we define a company with such corporate culture as a cult? I originally want to say that, but when I think about the news of punishing employees to crawl like dogs, I feel that the company next door hasn't gone too far.
"Yes, I'm sorry. I was too sensitive," I apologize hastily.
The policeman on the other end of the line heaves a sigh of relief.
"Don't do this again in the future…"
Without waiting for him to finish, I forcefully interrupt, "Did you discover anything?"
Was there anyone who got food poisoning because of mushrooms?
"What can we discover? They're all working hard," the policeman on the other end of the line says impatiently.
He emphasizes that I shouldn't be too sensitive and hangs up.
It seems Mr. A is fine… I'm relieved. I stand up and look around.
At this moment, there are only two or three people left in the office waiting for their food to be delivered. The other colleagues have already gone to the office canteen on the second floor.
CEO Huang has always been very generous to his employees. He gives plenty of meal allowance, but all of it is transferred to our employee card. It can only be used at the canteen.
Of course, the company canteen's standard is quite good. Regardless of the ingredients, quantity, or culinary skills, they're all satisfactory.
The only problem is that there isn't much variety in staples—only rice, noodles, and wontons. Some of the employees can only rely on delivery food when they want to eat rice noodles or pancakes.
To me, this doesn't pose a problem. As long as the dishes have variety, it doesn't matter what the staple is.
It would be a waste not to use my meal allowance. It's not like it can be used outside!
Rubbing my stomach, I open my drawer, take out my employee card, and run towards the elevator.
After entering the canteen, I look for a window seat first.
Just then, through the window, I see a row of people standing downstairs.
The leader is CEO Huang.
CEO Huang quickly gets into a Rolls-Royce, and it drives off behind another car.
I know that leading car. I just sat in it yesterday—it belongs to our partner company's Rosago.
Thinking of this racer, I suddenly feel a little nauseous. I feel like I'm suffering from motion sickness.
Wh— Mr. Zarathushtra has arrived via high-speed rail? CEO Huang is going to personally fetch him… He places great importance on this. I rein in my thoughts and cast my gaze back at the food selection window.
Besides, this job has already been handed over. What happens next has nothing to do with me!
After having a perfect lunch, I saunter back into the office and lean my neck against a neck pillow.
I have a habit to sleep for a while at noon, or else I'll be groggy in the afternoon.
And I need to listen to music during my afternoon nap to avoid being disturbed by the random noises in the office.
I quickly put on my inner ear headphones, open on a music player, and start searching for today's lullaby.
Eh? There's a new song. It's from overseas, and it's doing pretty well. I glance at it, my interest piqued.
During my afternoon nap, my music of choice has always been more inclined towards songs in foreign languages, because if I don't focus on listening, it won't be easy to understand, and I wouldn't care too much about the lyrics. I won't let my imagination run wild.
The reviews are okay… I quickly decide to buy the song.
When translated, the song's title is "Advance! Advance!"
Its singer is Alger Wilson.
I check the information on this singer and find that he is rather inspirational. He was originally just a crew member who drifted out at sea, but after much hardship, he became a singer.