He turned around and left, with a straight back and light steps, carrying the pride of his new appointment.
I watched his back without any ripples in my heart.
Angry? Perhaps.
But now it had been replaced by something calmer.
Joana said, the company would keep running even without me.
I picked up the old coffee cup engraved with the word "merit," my fingers gripping it slightly, then, I released it.
The cup fell into the corner trash can, shattering with a crisp sound.
They might have forgotten that I built the company from scratch, single-handedly creating one hundred fourty-two million dollars core project.
Some things were ingrained in our bones, not something a transfer order, a few laughs, or a clown stealing our achievements could erase.
Cleaning the toilet? Okay.
Then let's start from the bottom and see how many corrupt officials were lurking beneath this ship they thought could sail smoothly without me. And how many storms could it withstand?
The next morning, I changed into the blue work clothes from the Logistics Department, picked up my cleaning tools and appeared in the first-floor restroom on time.
The pungent smell of disinfectant filled the air, replacing the usual aroma of coffee in the office.
The first person to come in was Diego Sanders from the Technical Department, who used to be one of my engineers.
He was stunned for a moment when he saw me wiping the sink with a cloth and then a sarcastic smile appeared at the corner of his mouth.
"Oh, our technical director? Started your new job so early?"
He deliberately emphasized the word "technical director," unzipping his trousers with a sneer. "You sure know how to bend and stretch."
I didn't look up, continuing what I was doing.
During the morning rush hour, many people came and left the toilet one after another.
"He deserves it." A low voice came from outside the stall -- it was Billy Johanson, the guy from the Marketing Department who always wore flashy shirts.
"I've been disliking his aloof appearance for a long time. Does he really think the company can't do without him?" he said.
"He's really thick-skin." Another voice chimed in. "If it were me, I would have thrown my things and left on the spot yesterday! Staying here to clean toilets? Haaa!"
"Leave? Does he dare?"
"Besides relying on his seniority at the company, what other real skills does he have? Who wants him outside? Finding a job isn't easy these days."
"I think so, he's just a show-off."
An older employee who was on good terms with Mark deliberately raised his voice. "Mr. Schroeder ... oh I mean, Lucius -- only got his seniority because he has good relationship with Mr. Andrew."
"Actually, he couldn't get involved in the core technical problems in the later stages at all. Mark solved them all by staying up the whole night."
The person next to him immediately chimed in. "Exactly! When Mr. Andrew was around, he was willing to support him out of old friendship."
"Now that his daughter, Ms. Andrew, is in charge, she values real talent and dedication. Someone like him, who are just pretending, have naturally been exposed."
"Yeah, Ms. Andrew is truly amazing," said another voice with admiration, "She has a sharp eye and acts decisively, far more so than her father."
"If it weren't for her, our company would still be occupied by these incompetent people."
I pushed the cleaning cart to the urinal and began scrubbing.
Someone deliberately shook his hand, splashing urine onto the freshly cleaned floor and my trousers, then said insincerely, "Oh, sorry, I didn't notice."
A mocking low laugh echoed around.
I didn't pause, nor did I look at that person. I picked up the hose, washed away the stains and mopped the floor again.
