Chapter 4 Do You Want to Be a Security Guard or a Cleaner?_1

"Chapter 4: Serve as a security guard or cleaner?

...

Her background, her status. They made her unlike most successful folks who hide their dissatisfaction in their hearts. Especially at this moment, there was this man, this young, functioning man. He exploited the decency of the others to leech off a company as if it were his right. The contempt in her eyes for him was teetering on the edge of an outburst.

And, from the looks of him, sneaking into the company seemed an honor bestowed upon Uncle Miller.

"Good, very good, has Uncle Miller told you about the position he's arranged for you?" Faye Owen kept reminding herself that in China, social obligations were unavoidable. Plus, Uncle Miller owed him a favor. Since she had agreed to Uncle Miller, she couldn't cause him any embarrassment.

"Huh? Old Miller didn't specify. He told me on the phone that everything had been arranged," Yves King asked, bewildered.

"Yeah, it's all arranged." Faye Owen forced herself to calm down, suppressing the urge to do something unbecoming of a lady. Her face settled into a peaceful expression as her mind raced: "However, Uncle Miller didn't specify which position. As the president of this company, I have to consider what's best for the company. Based on the principle of using people to their best abilities, I've decided to appoint you as a security guard."

"Security guard?" Yves King's face morphed into an odd expression: "You want me to be a security guard? Is this Old Miller's idea, or yours?"

"It's my idea, and complaining to Uncle Miller won't change anything. The board of directors has granted me full control over human resources for a year. Even Uncle Miller, the Chairman, can't overturn my recruitment decisions. That was our agreement." Seeing Yves King's surprised expression, Faye Owen felt a rush of satisfaction washing over her, akin to having ice cream on a warm day. The thought of such a man lazing about under her watch made her sick to her stomach, but making him a security guard felt like shoving a swarm of flies down his throat.

The more she thought about it, the more brilliant her idea seemed, and the more intelligent she felt. For once, she allowed herself a smile.

"Why did you think of making me a security guard?" Yves King asked calmly: "Is it because of my degree from the TV broadcasting university? Are you discriminating against me? What's wrong with a TV university degree? Is this education discrimination?"

"Using educational background to judge someone's ability does have its pitfalls. And I am open to hiring capable people regardless of their education. But Mr. King, your resume doesn't show any notable achievements." Faye Owen shrugged, answering earnestly: "However, your resume does suggest that you have served in the army. Considering you and the company's situations, I found it most suitable to have you as a security guard. Every job is equally important and is just different in functions. Are you by any chance looking down on the security guard position, Mr. King?"

"Uh, I don't mean to belittle security guards. I just want to ask if there's another position available. I'm not very keen on being a security guard," Yves King's face turned somewhat gloomy, as if burdened with weighty thoughts.

However, to Faye Owen, Yves King looked utterly despondent. Seeing his disheartened state inexplicably filled her with joy, making her feel so blissful that she was nearly floating. Although she felt elated inside, she maintained a steady facade, saying with slight concern: "Mr. King, the company has its difficulties too. As the president appointed by the board, I often have to consider the bigger picture. If everyone in this company wanted to do what they like instead of what is required, then I won't be able to carry on with my job. I hope you understand, Mr. King. But for the sake of Uncle Miller, I'll give you another option. If you don't want to be a security guard, you can be a cleaner."

Her words, though seemingly courteous and modest, sent a flower full of laughter blossoming within her heart as she watched the stunned expression on Yves King's face.

Her best friend had once admonished her sternly, just as her father had, about the stark differences between being the president of a company in China and elsewhere. As a president, one must convey authority subtly, artfully employing bureaucratic language and aiming for indirect yet effective results. Being stickler for rules and aggression won't quite cut it.

She scoffed at such sentiments before but, at this moment, she seemed to comprehend somewhat. Apparently, some unusual tactics could effectively deal with certain unusual people.

The thrilling thought flashed through Faye Owen's mind; You're arrogant, right? You'd dare to drink my coffee, smoke in my office, and manipulate Uncle Miller to get a cushy job, right? Fine, I'll humor you. Do the job or scram. If you choose to stay, you'll experience first-hand the wrath of Faye Owen. You won't be able to laze about all day. If you choose not to, that's your decision, and Uncle Miller's debt is fulfilled.

"Um, positions like cleaning are a bit exaggerated, aren't they?" Yves King touched his nose and said with a bitter smile. The main reason he was somewhat reluctant to be a security guard was because, despite the job not being part of any proper army, it would still evoke some memories he preferred not to touch.

"Mr. King, if you don't want to do anything, I can't help it. All positions in the company are already successfully fulfilled, and I believe Uncle Miller will respect my choices as per our agreement. It's a shame, but I hope we have another opportunity to work together in the future." A hint of regret appeared on Faye Owen's perfectly alluring face. It was indeed a bit regrettable; if this man were to leave, she would lose some of the satisfaction she'd get from making things difficult for him in revenge.

In her life, this was the first time she had encountered a human who tempted her to give him a taste of his own medicine. That said, making this brat disappear from her sight forever, never to encounter him again, would also be a rather pleasing conclusion.

Yves King wrinkled his brows, thinking carefully for a moment before appearing to reach an understanding. A relieved expression appeared on his face: "In that case, I'll become a security guard. As you, President Owen, said earlier, no profession is inherently superior or inferior."

Faye Owen was taken aback; she hadn't expected him to actually accept the job as a security guard. Nevertheless, she thought, once you officially start work, I'll let you know what it feels like to deal with difficulties.

Making things difficult, this was a concept her friend, two years older than herself, had taught her after she returned to take over her company as president. According to her friend's logic, anyone who dared to disobey should be made to limp from being forced into uncomfortable situations. Back then, Faye Owen did not agree with this approach and dismissed it.

But now, using these tactics on the terribly annoying Yves King seemed like a great way to fight fire with fire.

"In that case, I'll have to trouble Director Donald to help Mr. King handle his employment procedures." While she was scheming in her mind, her tone remained very polite. She even respectfully bowed.

"Alright, Yamil will handle it right away. You seem tired, President; please remember to get some rest." A respectful expression filled Tom Donald's face as he invited Yves King out of the office. It wasn't until he had closed the door to the President's office that he finally heaved a sigh of relief, wiping the cold sweat from his brow.

His sincerely scared appearance made Yves King chuckle, "Director Donald, you're a seasoned veteran of this underworld. Is that pretty lady really that terrifying? She made you look like this."

"My friend, you are not aware of the whole story." Having served under three presidents, Tom Donald was an expert at reading people. He had deduced that Yves King must have strong connections to Chairman Miller, otherwise, President Owen, who was known for not compromising and loathing nepotism, wouldn't have made an exception to hire him. As a result, he was very polite to Yves King and explained in a low voice, "As the saying goes, the ruthless fear the stubborn, the stubborn fear the reckless. Against someone like President Owen, who doesn't care for anything and doesn't take anyone's nonsense, being a seasoned veteran of this underworld is of little use."

"Heh, Old Miller must have overeaten to think of hiring such a young girl to take control of the company," Yves King couldn't help but shake his head and laugh as they walked.

"Brother, it appears you share some relationship with the old chairman. I, a loyal subordinate of Chairman Miller, must give you some friendly advice." Tom Donald took the opportunity to ingratiate himself, speaking softly, "I've already familiarized myself with President Owen's temper. As long as you're more agreeable, diligent with the tasks she assigns, and perhaps praise her a bit in private, it's easy to get along with her. Brother, let me advise you. Don't oppose President Owen anymore. Say some pleasant words and try to get a quieter position. Being a security guard is both hard and thankless."

"Ah, thank you, Director Donald, for your advice, but let's discuss this later. After all, I'm just trying to make a living here; it doesn't matter which position I have." Yves King also responded politely. Having the type of personality that gave back threefold to respect shown to him.

"Alright, work hard for now. When the President's mood improves, I'll take the opportunity to say a few good words for you." Tom Donald didn't press the matter further. After expressing goodwill once more, he helped Yves King begin the employment procedure.

Meanwhile, Faye Owen picked up the telephone and, with a shocked expression on her face, stood up from her comfortable office chair. "No, you can't do that," she said vehemently.

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