Chapter 125-I Clean Up Garbage in a Wasteland World
Chapter 125 The Company You Can't Leave (III)
"Toilet Paper?" Hope was calling her. "Toilet Paper?"
Zhu Ning snapped back to attention. She looked carefully at the black glass desktop—nothing was beneath it. The version of herself trapped under the glass had vanished.
A hallucination?
"Sign." Hope said.
Zhu Ning looked at the signature line, unsure what name Hope wanted her to sign. Signing her real name—was that the same as making a deal with the devil?
But if she signed "Toilet Paper," wouldn't that mean abandoning her original identity and fully becoming Toilet Paper?
Zhu Ning thought of Ms. Zhu's profession. Imitating the way Ms. Zhu wrote prescriptions, she scrawled two characters, then handed the contract to Hope.
Hope frowned at the contract. Zhu Ning's handwriting was atrocious—practically occult symbols. Completely illegible.
Zhu Ning: "My handwriting's a bit ugly."
Hope stared at the contract in silence, apparently never having encountered penmanship like this.
"That's fine," Hope took one copy of the contract and handed the other to Zhu Ning, along with a brown paper bag. "This is your new employee welcome gift."
"Head back to your Workstation. Your department supervisor will come find you shortly." Hope opened the door and smiled at Zhu Ning.
Zhu Ning took the materials and walked out. Outside, the hundred-plus Workstations were like individual cells, each occupied by a sheep.
Zhu Ning saw nothing but a sea of white. The Sheep-Heads were all typing with their heads down.
It really was easy to get lost. Stare long enough and your vision blurred—the Sheep-Heads clustered together looked like a mosaic of static.
This time, the Sheep-Heads didn't look at her. Zhu Ning navigated through the clatter of keyboards to find her Workstation, then opened the welcome gift Hope had given her.
Zhu Ning had also received a new employee gift at the Sanitation Center—an entire crate of standard-issue weapons.
This gift was far more sensible: a new employee handbook, a notebook, a thermos, toothpaste, a toothbrush, and a towel.
What for? Did Hope expect her to live here and work until she died?
Zhu Ning rummaged through the welcome bag, then suddenly stopped. She touched something cold and metallic at the bottom. Inside the brown paper bag lay a Steel Pen.
Black casing with gold filigree. The same pen she'd picked up earlier.
Zhu Ning took out the Steel Pen from the tote bag. Two identical pens now sat side by side on the Workstation. They were just pens, yet having two of the same one together felt inexplicably unsettling.
How strange. Logically, this was the first time she was supposed to receive the pen.
But now she had two identical Steel Pens?
Zhu Ning couldn't figure out whose bag it was or why it had appeared from nowhere. It looked like an ordinary commuter tote bag.
Was it the dead post author's bag? Was this Workstation the dead post author's Workstation?
On the first day of a new job, you usually didn't need to work—just familiarize yourself with the environment. The supervisor hadn't come for her yet, so Zhu Ning had time to explore.
Entering a new environment meant building good relations with those around you. Zhu Ning had always been sociable. She'd been planning to get acquainted with her desk neighbor.
"Hello?" The moment Zhu Ning spoke, the Sheep-Head beside her whipped around like a startled lamb.
"Quiet." The neighbor glanced at Zhu Ning, then quickly turned back and resumed typing.
As if a bomb were strapped under the keyboard—stop typing and it detonates.
Zhu Ning stood there, baffled. What did that mean? Were you not allowed to talk here?
For some reason, she had the distinct feeling she'd just done something wrong.
White sheep all around, and she alone in a black helmet. Completely out of place.
She opened the computer. The wallpaper read: Monday.
Most computers showed the date, but Zhu Ning searched and found none. This computer only tracked the day of the week. Today was Monday.
The computer had some design files. Her role was designing the exterior of mechanical massage chairs.
Zhu Ning had expected to be clueless, but she could actually understand them.
Not just understand—she seemed able to draw them too. The gear dimensions here are wrong. The thought appeared in her mind out of nowhere.
She actually knew mechanical engineering?
Because of the original owner's memories? Or the Contamination Zone's influence?
Everyone around her was typing. No one assigned her tasks or spoke to her. Zhu Ning could only look out the window.
Outside was pitch black. The nighttime sky looked utterly fake—like cheap special effects.
Zhu Ning gazed out for a while. There was a cloud at the horizon—stare long enough and it seemed to spin. Yet it drew you in, making you want to keep watching.
Suddenly, in the glass reflection, Zhu Ning spotted a Sheep-Head that had appeared behind her without warning. Its head was pressed right against the back of hers.
The window reflected a sheep's head. Zhu Ning was staring at it through the glass—locking eyes. She'd never gazed so long into the eyes of a sheep. The pupils were rectangular.
Sheep have rectangular pupils, allowing them to see predators approaching from the sides. A basic biological fact, but seeing it now was deeply unsettling.
If Sheep-Heads shared this trait, their field of vision was wider than a human's—they'd easily spot anything off about you.
Now a pair of rectangular pupils was watching her.
"Toilet Paper?"
Zhu Ning turned around. A Sheep-Head in a red suit stood before her—rotund, bending down to peer at her.
"You're the new hire, Toilet Paper?"
Zhu Ning couldn't help glancing at his belly. His shirt strained over it, looking ready to burst at any moment.
Judging by the belly's profile, this was definitely management.
"Supervisor?" Zhu Ning realized.
"Just call me Brightness. We're all equals here—friends on the same level. None of that 'supervisor' stuff, it sounds awful." Brightness straightened up and leaned against Zhu Ning's Workstation.
Zhu Ning thought: You're called Brightness, I'm called Toilet Paper. Where's the equality?
"Toilet Paper," Brightness said. "Don't just sit there spacing out. Young people need to stay active."
In her previous life Zhu Ning had been an athlete; in this one she collected garbage. Both were physical jobs. She wasn't used to cubicle work. After thinking, she asked: "Do you have any tasks for me?"
Brightness said: "Look through the project files. Get to know our projects."
Zhu Ning: "Got it."
Brightness watched her with a smile: "There really isn't any work for you today. Just get familiar with the environment. But you need to look busy."
Zhu Ning understood his implication but planned to slack off.
Zhu Ning didn't move. Brightness was forced to spell it out: "The keyboard. Start typing."
Zhu Ning: "But I don't have any work."
Brightness's eyes narrowed. He clapped a hand on Zhu Ning's shoulder. She felt a fat palm land heavily on her, pressing down with a solid pat.
"You need to fit in, Toilet Paper." Brightness adopted a tone of doing-it-for-her-own-good.
There it was again. Zhu Ning felt the pressure of Brightness's gaze.
So the Sheep-Heads weren't all typing because they had work—they were doing it to fit in.
Under Brightness's stare, Zhu Ning compromised. One finger tapped a key. The mechanical keyboard made a single clack.
Brightness: "Wonderful. Very talented."
Zhu Ning's screen showed a blank document. She'd just typed one meaningless letter, but Brightness looked absolutely delighted.
If she didn't do things his way, he'd probably stand there staring until she died.
Zhu Ning placed both hands on the keyboard and began typing in rhythm with the others. Clack clack clack clack clack.
Brightness patted her shoulder again—hard. She felt her right shoulder sinking. That patch of skin felt soiled by his touch.
"I've got high hopes for you, Toilet Paper," Brightness said. "You have a bright future."
Zhu Ning forced a smile. Thanks a lot.
Brightness clasped his hands behind his back, pot belly thrust forward, and paraded past each Workstation like a landlord inspecting his domain.
Wherever Brightness passed, the Sheep-Heads heard his footsteps and sped up their typing—whether performing or pledging loyalty—to prove their efficiency.
After Brightness left, Zhu Ning's typing slowed. For the first time, she acutely felt what it meant to waste your life.
You know what you're doing is utterly meaningless, but you can't leave your seat. Your time has been bought.
During this period, your everything belongs to this Workstation.
Zhu Ning's gaze went vacant. How long would a life like this go on? Until death?
Sitting among these Sheep-Heads, sooner or later she'd be ground smooth of all individuality—turned into a brand-new sheep.
Zhu Ning's fingers tapped the keyboard while her brain reviewed the clues she'd gathered. Thankfully she had a computer in her head.
Multitasking was perfectly doable.
This place was strange. If the murder house had played with spatial concepts, this place played with time.
Two identical Steel Pens. An identical self behind the glass door. A voice telling her to run when signing.
Were these things happening now? Or was a future version of herself warning her?
If this was a loop, how was she supposed to find the key to breaking it?
The Company You Can't Leave. The dead post author said they'd been stuck in the same day. So far, Zhu Ning had been here less than one morning. She hadn't yet experienced a full day.
Ding-dong—
A chime rang out, its cheerful sound filling the office. Before Zhu Ning could react, every single person stopped typing at the same instant.
Over a hundred Sheep-Heads stood up in unison. One Sheep-Head wasn't scary. Over a hundred moving in perfect synchrony made your skin crawl.
Their movements were identical—like robots executing a programmed command.
What was happening?
Sheep-Heads began filing toward the elevator in orderly fashion. Zhu Ning glanced at the screen. It read 12:00 noon.
Lunch break. Time to eat.
The Employee Handbook specified that at designated times, employees must go to the cafeteria. Zhu Ning had originally planned to stay behind and search for clues while everyone was gone.
But then she remembered the System wanted her to become an Outstanding Employee. Outstanding Employees were probably team players, right?
Zhu Ning followed the crowd. They queued for the elevator in single file, standing at neat attention inside, riding all the way down to the basement.
In the basement was a Conveyor Belt. Every employee stepped onto it. The belt carried you straight to the cafeteria.
With only a one-hour lunch break, this feeding method was highly efficient.
Zhu Ning stepped onto the Conveyor Belt. She felt less like someone heading to eat and more like a piece of food being transported. On the belt, nobody spoke. Everyone just stood in silence.
Ding-dong.
End of the line. A cafeteria appeared before her, lavishly decorated, filled with soothing music.
Buffet-style. Employee meals were free. Food was abundant but completely devoid of aroma.
Sheep-Heads filed off one by one. The journey here had been dead silent, but the cafeteria was lively.
The moment Sheep-Heads stepped off the Conveyor Belt, it was as if some seal had been broken. They began socializing with those around them.
"Hey, what are you having for lunch?"
"No idea. I'm sick of everything. Claypot rice, I guess."
Zhu Ning stood at the back of the line, watching them flip like switches.
"Look—the new girl behind us." Two of them whispered to each other.
"What was her name again? Toilet Paper? What an awful name. Tough luck getting stuck with that one."
"Hey, keep it down. I heard Brightness praising her today..."
Zhu Ning followed them expressionlessly, tray in hand. In any group, Zhu Ning was always the popular one. Her personality had never worked against her in social situations.
But for the first time, she felt like she was being excluded.
She was right in front of them, yet they chose not to speak to her.
Zhu Ning sensed a subtle difference. She knew this was a Contamination Zone, so she didn't feel too uncomfortable.
But a real employee would want desperately to fit in—to build good relationships with coworkers.
This Contamination Zone's method of contamination seemed to be collective pressure. You had to assimilate. To assimilate, you typed away even without work.
To assimilate, you had to eat when everyone ate. You couldn't skip the cafeteria.
You had to change your social media handles and profile pictures to match everyone else, so management could review them.
Even if you did all that, it wasn't enough. You had to pass the collective's inspection. They'd scrutinize you with harsh standards to determine whether you were worthy of being a new sheep.
That was the meaning of probation.
Fail probation, and you stay on probation indefinitely. The terrifying part was that you couldn't leave—the one-year commitment loomed over you. No matter how badly you wanted to flee, you had to endure the full year.
Had the dead post's author experienced all of this too?
And the person who jumped—why? Zhu Ning had hoped to learn through her coworkers, but these people wouldn't even talk to her.
After the meal, they rode the Conveyor Belt back to the office building, queued for the elevator, and returned to the workspace. The moment they stepped onto the belt, silence fell again.
Today was Monday. The afternoon brought the Performance Review Meeting.
Zhu Ning was finally freed from meaningless typing. They filed into a conference room and sat crammed together.
The emcee was Brightness. He stood at the podium, voice brimming with vigor and passion.
"Today marks the Mechanical Design Department's weekly Performance Review Meeting! The top performer will receive a 200,000 bonus!"
"Wow!" The employees erupted in frenzied applause—clapping at nearly identical frequencies, like robots triggered by a specific switch.
Zhu Ning hesitated for one second, then joined in. She had to be an Outstanding Employee. She had to fit in.
"Before the awards, let me introduce our new colleague—Toilet Paper!" Brightness said into the microphone.
Every eye in the room turned to her. Zhu Ning had been clapping—now she felt like a student caught without homework when the teacher called her name.
Thunderous applause. Everyone welcomed her. Zhu Ning had heard applause and praise before, but never anything this eerie.
She walked up awkwardly and stood beside Brightness. He shoved the microphone in her face. "Say a few words."
Zhu Ning looked out at the sea of Sheep-Heads. She felt uncomfortable—like an object being appraised.
"Introduce yourself." Brightness pressed the mic right against her helmet.
"Hello, everyone. I'm Toilet Paper." Zhu Ning kept it simple. "I look forward to learning from all of you."
"Welcome, Toilet Paper!" Brightness bellowed.
The crowd echoed: "Welcome, Toilet Paper!"
Zhu Ning: "......"
She had never experienced a situation this cringe-worthy in her life.
Brightness took back the microphone, satisfied with Zhu Ning's performance. "Having our new colleague witness our Performance Review Meeting—I've always believed this is the best way to integrate into the team. You'll immediately understand our culture."
"This time, the award presenter will be Toilet Paper! What does everyone think?"
Passionate applause from below. "Great!"
Zhu Ning, the involuntary award presenter: "......"
Had anyone asked if she was willing?
Someone handed her a trophy and a certificate. The certificate read: Outstanding Employee. This must be what the System wanted Zhu Ning to obtain.
Zhu Ning held the trophy, eyeing it with envy. So why did the System want her to get the Outstanding Employee award?
Brightness announced: "Congratulations to Keyboard for winning last week's top performance! Keyboard, come up and accept your award!"
A Sheep-Head stepped forward. Zhu Ning handed over the trophy. Keyboard gave a speech of thanks into the microphone.
The usual platitudes—thanking the leadership, thanking the company's nurturing, thanking the opportunity to achieve self-fulfillment.
The speech lasted a full five minutes. Zhu Ning stood there like a ceremony hostess, watching them play pretend at an awards show. She hadn't taken this Performance Review Meeting seriously at all.
Normal people watching a flock of sheep give out awards wouldn't treat it as a serious event either.
"Now comes the moment I dread most," Brightness's voice dropped. "Who had the worst performance last week?"
The instant Brightness finished, the applause and smiles vanished.
The Sheep-Heads fell into unified silence. Boundless pressure spread outward. They seemed to be thinking: Not me, not me, not me.
"Cardboard Box." Brightness named a name.
Zhu Ning had just arrived. All these Sheep-Heads looked more or less the same to her. She had no idea who Cardboard Box was.
But the Sheep-Heads seemed to have facial recognition hardwired into their brains. Their heads swiveled in unison toward the back row, where a small sheep sat with her head bowed.
"Cardboard Box." Brightness said. "Come up."
Cardboard Box kept her head buried, clutching the notebook on her knees.
"Cardboard Box." Brightness's voice was clearly displeased. "I said come up."
Countless gazes bore down on Cardboard Box as if to crush her. She had no choice but to stand. Only then could Zhu Ning see her clearly—since Sheep-Heads all looked similar, Zhu Ning identified people by their clothing.
She wore a black suit, the kind a fresh graduate buys as their first set of professional attire. Black-framed glasses. Extremely timid.
Cardboard Box's entire body shook as she walked. That short distance took her a full five minutes.
"Supervisor..." She raised her head cautiously, her voice full of pleading.
"Don't call me Supervisor." Brightness's voice was ice-cold. He was not happy.
"Brightness..." Cardboard Box corrected herself, lips trembling. "Please, give me one more chance. I just had a bad week. I really tried so hard."
"I-I-I drew so many blueprints, but the client wasn't satisfied. I worked overtime till midnight every night. There was nothing I could do. Please, I'm begging you."
Brightness looked down at her. "I already gave you a chance. You've been at the bottom for two consecutive weeks."
"Please. I'll be better next week. Just one chance. Just one." If kneeling would have helped, Cardboard Box would have dropped to her knees.
Brightness was unmoved. He turned away.
"Please, I'm begging you..." She'd started by pleading with Brightness. When that proved futile, she turned to Zhu Ning. "Please, save me."
Cardboard Box's eyes were wet. Zhu Ning had only ever seen eyes like that on lambs about to be slaughtered. She seemed to be begging for Zhu Ning's help.
The sight was heartbreaking.
Zhu Ning stood on stage like an outsider. She'd been about to ask what was going on, hadn't even managed to move a finger—
Suddenly— BANG!
A bullet streaked past Zhu Ning's side and struck Cardboard Box in the forehead. Blood exploded outward, splattering all over Zhu Ning. Her helmet was drenched in reeking blood.
It happened so abruptly that Zhu Ning hadn't processed it. Cardboard Box's body crumpled to the floor, blood instantly soaking the carpet.
At Zhu Ning's side was a gun, still smoking. Brightness stood behind her, expression blank, rectangular pupils ice-cold.
Brightness... had killed her?
The bottom performer at the review meeting dies?
Author's Note
Sheep's pupils are rectangular. Sheep's eyes are on the sides of their heads. Living in open grasslands, these wide-horizontal, narrow-vertical pupils help sheep spot predators from either side at a great distance. —from an encyclopedia
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