"Times have changed, Lao Feng."
Wang Dabao tossed Feng Biao a cigarette, stood up and paced back and forth, then sighed heavily, "After all, I'm in the same department as Yi Zhonghai, and I still can't bear to do it. It seems I still can't escape the hurdle of being soft-hearted."
"Cough cough..."
Feng Biao coughed rapidly, and for a moment he trembled so much that he could not stand up straight.
Are you soft-hearted?
A guy who has killed at least a hundred people claims to be soft-hearted?
Feng Biao found it hard to accept at first.
Seeing that Feng Biao's cough was gradually subsiding, Wang Dabao said coldly, "Old Feng, your salary this month is a bit tight!"
"No, Wang Ke, I'll take care of it right away. I guarantee I'll get it done. You'll see, you'll see." With that, Feng Biao ignored the tears and snot that were coming out of his mouth and ran out the door.
If I run too slowly, I'm afraid I won't be able to catch up with this month's salary.
After a while, Wang Dabao walked out of the security office building and asked around as he headed towards the fitter's workshop.
Wang Dabao had been working at the factory for less than a month and hadn't had a chance to speak on stage, so few of the ordinary workers knew him.
Upon arriving at the entrance of Workshop One, Wang Dabao asked someone to call Yi Zhonghai out.
The two went to a secluded spot.
Wang Dabao pretended to be dejected, which made Yi Zhonghai's heart skip a beat.
"Old Yi, my comrade did his best, but the leadership is putting a lot of pressure on him. This matter is a bit difficult to handle, since the security department can't easily issue a notice."
Upon hearing this, Yi Zhonghai was struck dumb and collapsed to the ground.
"It's over, it's all over now."
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