Who Was the Customer?

The clock kept ticking. Before long, accompanied by the soft tick-tock of its hands, it was 7:10.

A faint scent of blood drifted from the corridor. Then the two people by the cashier counter heard footsteps at the same time.

The footsteps were uneven. There was more than one person.

"Tap."

The sheep-faced leader appeared in their line of sight again, but this time, someone was following behind it.

The person walked with his head bowed. He wore the same red apron as Yu Xing and silently followed the sheep-faced leader.

"Do your job properly. It's your first day, and you're already slacking off. If you don't want to work, you can go home." The leader's expression was strange; it was hard to tell whether it was pleased or angry. But its superior, condescending tone was unmistakable.

Yu Xing leaned lazily against the cashier counter. He heard the man murmur, "Okay."

From his voice, he was a man, and a young one at that.

But there was that same response again. Why did this "auntie" beside him and the newcomer both like replying with those two words?

Or had all wage slaves gotten used to replying "Okay" to their bosses?

With no experience as a wage slave, Yu Xing didn't give it much thought. His gaze fell on the floor behind the man.

Bloody footprints.

One bloody footprint after another trailed along the path the man and the leader had taken. The sticky liquid had half-congealed, leaving vivid patterns on the floor. It was obvious the man was injured.

But he walked steadily. So where was he hurt?

As the leader came closer, Yu Xing straightened up, his whole body radiating unease.

The leader looked up at the time again. "It's time. We're opening. Remember to serve the customers properly.