"Hudson is kindly showing concern for you, and you bully him? A newcomer, here for only a few days, and you're already ostracizing him? How can you be so heartless?"
I stared at him.
Speechless.
I couldn't be bothered to explain.
Whitney's cursing grew more energetic until he finally waved his hand dismissively.
"I think the three of you just had a few good months and let it get to your heads! You're too idle!"
"Starting today, move your workstations to the warehouse in the back! When you've reflected enough, you can come out!"
Banishing three sales champions to work in the warehouse?
If our biggest competitor heard about this move, they'd send a thank-you banner overnight.
Old Simon and Evelyn trembled with rage, but I stopped them with a sharp look.
We silently packed our belongings. Our colleagues avoided us like the plague, terrified of being associated with the fallen champions.
Hudson Pruitt leisurely sat down at my original workstation. The prime spot—facing the entrance with the best view of the floor.
As we moved boxes, my phone buzzed.
Hudson had posted a WeChat Moment visible only to me.
The photo showed him sitting at my desk, legs crossed, with the box containing the $300,000 cash bonus displayed prominently in front of him.
The caption read: *Some positions can't be held just by grinding seniority. [Snickering Emoji]*
I looked at the post.
Sneered.
Casually took a screenshot.
I ignored Hudson's provocation, but that only emboldened him.
Early the next morning, he carried two cups of coffee and sidled up to Whitney.
"Manager, I think the seniors' client maintenance methods are outdated. They don't understand the psychology of young people today."
"I want to use my own methods to manage those VIP customers and bring them a brand-new experience."
Whitney beamed, completely charmed. He made the call immediately.
"Good! You've got ideas! That's how it should be!"
A wave of his hand, and he convened a morning meeting. In front of the entire staff, he forced Evelyn, Old Simon, and me to hand over all our VIP client data to Hudson.
Evelyn's face darkened instantly.
"What?" Old Simon sprang up from his chair. "Whitney, are you crazy? We won those customers one by one. Why should we hand them over to him?"
Whitney's eyes bulged. "Because I am the manager! This is an order! If you don't do it, get out!"
"Manager, this violates protocol." I stood up. "Client information is a salesperson's core asset. How can you demand we hand it over just because someone asked?"
"What I say *is* the rule!" His roar echoed through the showroom. "Elena Henson, if you talk back one more time, believe me, I'll have you thrown out today!"
Hudson stood by the side, hypocritically smoothing things over.
"Elena, Uncle Simon, don't misunderstand. I'm not trying to steal your customers. I just want to learn and help share the workload."
He took the thick stack of files we handed over and bowed ninety degrees in front of everyone.
"Thank you, Uncle Simon and my big sisters, for your guidance. I will study hard!"
His humble act drew another round of praise from Whitney.
The moment he returned to his desk, however, he posted a photo in the sales department's private group chat.
It was a page from our client files—detailing a customer's family situation, hobbies, and even the brand of food their dog preferred.
*Hudson: My god, are client notes this tacky nowadays? It's like a police interrogation. No wonder you can't keep people loyal. [Facepalm]*
The sycophants who loved to flatter the flavor of the month immediately chimed in.
*Colleague A: Exactly, exactly. Too old-fashioned.*
