"But the company isn't a charity. We follow the rules here. We can't just hand out extra bonuses because employees are having a hard time."
He brushed it off like it was nothing.
"Fine. Then let's not talk about hardship."
I pulled out a chair and sat down, my expression dead serious.
"Let's talk about contributions."
"Bonuses are supposed to be based on contributions. And according to the results, the Tech Department contributed nothing to this company this year."
I opened my email and pulled up every single request form from the Sales Department.
"This year, Sales brought in twenty new clients. That means twenty new software systems to support those accounts."
"If we'd outsourced that development, each system would've cost at least five hundred thousand dollars. That's ten million total—not counting ongoing maintenance."
"The Tech Department has fifteen people. Average monthly salary: six thousand. Total payroll for the year: one point zero eight million."
"On development alone, we saved the company at least eight point nine two million dollars. And that's not even counting the long-term value those systems generate." I stared him down. "You call that no contribution?"
VP Sawyer went quiet. After a long pause, he found another angle.
"No one said you didn't contribute. But your department's salaries are higher than other departments."
I let out a cold laugh.
"AI is the hottest field in tech right now. Other companies are offering fresh graduates four hundred thousand a year just to walk in the door."
"My team? Every one of them has solid credentials and real experience. And their annual salary is less than a fifth of what a new grad makes elsewhere." I leaned forward. "You call that high wages?"
I pulled up the attendance records.
"Fine. You're worried about internal harmony? Let's look at hourly rates."
"There were two hundred forty-eight official workdays in 2025. Our department averaged three hundred fifty days on-site. During the Mid-Autumn Festival, while everyone else was home with their families, we were rolling out a new system. We slept in the office."
"Out of those three hundred fifty days, the earliest anyone clocked out was eight p.m. The latest?" I paused. "There was no latest. We pulled all-nighters for a hundred of those days. Our actual logged hours hit five thousand nine hundred."
"At seventy-two thousand a year, that's twelve dollars an hour."
I let that sit for a moment, then spoke slowly, each word deliberate.
"Twelve dollars. In this city, bubble tea shops pay twenty-two."
"The company provides dinner and late-night meals when you work overtime. No one's mistreating you—"
"Dinner and a midnight snack. Less than ten bucks a person. Every single time, we had to dig into our own pockets just to not go hungry."
By then, I was barely holding it together.
Ronnie's expression turned cold.
"Claude, you can't just focus on your own contributions. You have to compare horizontally. Finance and Strategy contribute far more than your department."
I stood up and rolled my eyes so hard it hurt.
"What contributions? Blocking reimbursements?"
"Oh right—this year, our department submitted legitimate expense reports. Fifty thousand dollars' worth. The boss's niece, Vanessa Blake, the head of Finance, refused to approve a single one. No explanation. I guess that does save the company money."
"And Strategy?" I kept going. "The boss's distant relative who couldn't pass the college entrance exam, so he got shipped overseas for some worthless master's degree. Came back and landed the director title."
"Dylan Mercer. All year, his team's been busy filming vlogs and making us build mini-apps for their projects. Last month, they uploaded the wrong photo and cost us a major deal."
"That's contribution?"
The more I spoke, the angrier I got.
"And then there's your department. All you do is make PowerPoints and hand out fines. Missed a clock-in? Two hundred dollars. Messy desk? Two hundred. Didn't say hi to the boss? Three hundred."
I laughed—bitter and sharp.
