The Unofficial Agent's Pushy Recruitment and the Airdrop in the Snow

Darwin pulled his hand back as if he had been electrocuted.

"No, who are you? Who's involved in disaster relief?"

The bald, shiny head shook like a rattle-drum. "I'm telling you, don't come any closer! I have a severe case of stress disorder. When I get angry, I'll even bite a tin can. One bite and I could tear half of your suit sleeve off!"

Sing Sing clicked his tongue.

Why are so many of today's high-end technical talents overseas so outdated in their thinking?

They have absolutely no ambition to actively participate in infrastructure development.

"Don't be nervous. We're all here to sell our labor, so we should strive for fair trade. If you don't believe me, ask your mom. I'm someone who values the business environment and the spirit of contracts the most."

Margaret completely ignored him, busying herself with poking at the firewood in the fireplace, making it crackle and pop.

Harry, the old Hound lying on the floor beside me, rolled over, belly up, and started gurgling in his throat, clearly not wanting to pay any attention to anyone.

The scene became quite awkward.

"Alright, it's our first meeting, so my wariness is understandable." Sing Sing casually stuffed the contract back into his inner pocket, rolled up his suit sleeves, and immediately set his sights on the canvas bag Darwin had brought back.

"As the saying goes, 'Man is made of iron, food is steel; you'll feel uneasy if you skip a meal.' Today's welcome dinner is a special hospitality expense approved by the Talent Introduction Office of our 749 Bureau! Today, we'll show you what the value of a specially hired head chef from the Logistics Department really is!"

Half an hour later.

Steam was bubbling and rising from the iron pot.

A can of luncheon meat, two handfuls of aged oats, and half a dehydrated onion dug out of the old lady's cellar— Sing Sing managed to stew them into an overpowering aroma that didn't belong to this frigid land.

Sing Sing filled a large bowl to the brim and slammed it down in front of Darwin.

"Try it, our uniquely made, soul-stirring stewed meat paste."

Darwin swallowed hard.

He had run all the way through the blizzard, and his physical strength was greatly depleted. By now, his stomach was rumbling with hunger.

But he still kept a wary eye on the bottom of the bowl, fearing that it might contain a miniature listening device or a contract of servitude.

"Eat up, are you afraid I'll poison you?" Sing Sing picked up a bowl and slurped down a big mouthful.

"Our bureau's financial reimbursement review is extremely strict. Even buying rat poison requires a formal invoice. Where am I supposed to get poison to entertain you?"

"Let me be frank with you, you know Charles Xavier, right? I was sitting in his basement drinking instant coffee just the other day!"

Darwin had just taken a small sip of the meat paste with the tip of his spoon when he heard the name. He shuddered, choked on the paste, and coughed until his face turned bright red.

"You know those jinxed X-Men- Men? Stay away from me! The further the better! Wherever they go, the world collapses!"

"I finally found a place so cold even bears would find it hard to stay, so don't bring me that bad luck of always stepping on landmines when you go out!"

"Perspective! Look at you, you're back to your old ways. Why can't you broaden your perspective? Working for that old bald guy is like a street brawl with no job security, no base salary, and no Labor Law protections! If you win, there's no bonus; if you lose, you have to go to a small clinic for stitches! Do you think working for me is the same? Free meals and accommodation, year-end bonus into your personal account, and holiday benefits! Do you understand the seven insurances and three funds? Do you understand statutory holidays and weekends off?"

"I'm not going."

Darwin kept his head down and ate his meal, his attitude resolute.

"I'm quite comfortable being freezing in the Arctic. There are no Strykers, no Sentries, and I can visit my mom occasionally to bring her some food. Life is so comfortable."

"Comfortable my foot! What you're doing is lacking long-term career planning and wasting your prime years..."

"Say it again and I'll bite you." Darwin looked up, revealing his gleaming white teeth.

Sing Sing opened his mouth, then finally sighed.

"Alright, let's stay friendly even if the deal falls through. Forced relationships are never sweet; it might quench your thirst, but I don't care."

He listlessly picked at the onions in his bowl, his heart bleeding.

What a great tanky guy...

For the next three days.

The wind and snow outside gradually subsided, but the atmosphere inside grew more and more eerie each day.

Sing Sing, with the salesman spirit of "as long as I'm annoying enough, you'll eventually give in," bombards Darwin's bald head with a full-scale, 360-degree mental attack from the moment he opens his eyes in the morning until the lights go out at midnight.

"Hey bro, seriously not interested? Our bureau just released some new thermal underwear."

"Bro, your skills are a perfect fit for cleaning pipes at a nuclear power plant. The salary is negotiable."

Darwin was going crazy.

On the morning of the fourth day, it was just getting light.

The bald man slung his empty canvas bag over his shoulder and gave Margaret a quick hug.

"Mom, I really have to go now. I'll come see you again in a couple of months when the weather gets warmer. The feng shui in this house is bad; some evil spirits have gotten in. If I listen to his nagging for another two days, my brain stem will shrink."

Margaret pushed up her glasses, a hint of amusement in her eyes, patted his shoulder, and said nothing.

Darwin had barely stepped out of the cabin and into the knee-deep snow when he was left, not even having a chance to breathe in the free and cold air.

Someone pressed against my back.

"Hey, up so early, buddy? Where are you going for a stroll? Perfect timing, we're on the same road!"

When Darwin turned around, he was almost blinded by Sing Sing's radiant smile.

"Why are you following me?!" the bald man yelled, "I haven't even signed a contract, and you still want to kidnap me?!"

"Look at what you're saying," Sing Sing said matter-of-factly, tightening his suit jacket.

"Everyone goes their own way. Does this Alaska snowfield have your name on it? Besides, I don't have GPS. Don't I need a local to guide me in this wilderness? Don't worry, I won't mention work to you."

Darwin turned his head away, gritting his teeth, and quickened his pace.

"Hey, slow down, wait for me! This snow is too thick, it'll ruin my leather shoes..."

Sing Sing followed behind, his mouth never stopping.

The two trekked across the vast snowfield for nearly two hours.

Sing Sing was still analyzing whether bringing Old Harry back to China would be considered importing a high-quality foreign dog breed.

Suddenly, a low, rumbling sound came from behind the distant mountain ridge.

Darwin stopped and looked up at the gray sky.

Two dark figures broke through the clouds and sped toward them.

"It's a helicopter!" Darwin breathed a sigh of relief. "Could it be a search and rescue team? Great, now that you're all packed up and sent away, I can finally have some peace and quiet."

Sing Sing didn't respond.

He squinted, his gaze piercing through the wind and snow to fix on the belly of the leading black heavy helicopter.

A silver mountain-shaped logo was printed there.

Comrade Old Zhou's face fell.

He knew that logo all too well.

I've seen this thing more than once in Las Vegas.

"Search and rescue my ass!"

Sing Sing Chow grabbed Darwin by the back of the neck and shoved him into a deep snow pit.

"Those are people from the Silver Peak Consortium! If you don't want to be turned into a specimen for experiments, you'd better shut up!"