The annual company gala was just around the corner, and a memo dropped: every department had to perform. The moment the news hit, our department's group chat exploded. 【I signed up for a job, not a circus.】 【Why should we have to dance like monkeys for our corporate overlords?】 I pleaded with them. 【Come on, guys. I just got every single one of you a ten-thousand-dollar bonus and a week of paid vacation. Can you just help me out on this one?】 【That's a separate issue. Don't think just because you're the manager and you throw us a few scraps, you can order us around!】 【Yeah, what she said! Let's all just quit! Time for Gen Z to fix this toxic workplace!】 And so, I signed their resignation letters. "You want to quit? Fine. Approved." 1 【To my dearest team: Per upper management's request, the annual gala will feature a talent competition between departments, with prizes for the winning teams. Please feel free to share any and all ideas for our department's performance.】 After sending the message, I waited, my stomach in knots. Ten minutes passed. The chat remained a digital graveyard. 【Look, I know getting on stage is a big ask for some of you,】 I typed, trying a softer approach. 【But it's a directive from the top, so we don't have much of a choice. How about we do something simple, like a group poetry reading?】 【I'm not aiming for any awards. We just need to get through this. There are a lot of us, so each person would only have to say a line or two. What do you think?】 After another agonizing silence, a single message broke the stillness. 【I'm here to work, not to be part of a talent show.】 That one sentence was a stone tossed into a still pond, and the ripples turned into a tidal wave. 【Exactly. We're employees, not court jesters for a bunch of soulless suits.】 【Even zoos have banned animal performances. Are we supposed to be less than animals, parading around for their amusement?】 【I'm not a monkey. I'm not doing it.】 【Me neither!】 【Count me out!】 … I kept my cool, patiently trying to reason with them. 【This performance is a chance to showcase our department's teamwork and unity, to show the higher-ups what we're made of. I hope you won't see it as a burden.】 【Ariel, if you want to go up there and sing a solo, be my guest. Just don't drag us down with you.】 【I'm completely tone-deaf,】 I admitted, 【and the company requires full participation. But don't worry, I'll be right up there on stage with you all.】 【Slaving away nine-to-five is exhausting enough. Now we have to play the dancing monkey after hours to entertain the bosses?】 【What a garbage idea for a gala. No way I'm making a fool of myself like that.】 They spoke without a shred of restraint, completely ignoring the fact that I, their manager, was in the chat, reading every word. An icy chill crept from my heart out to my fingertips. I had expected some grumbling, but I never imagined such vehement opposition. Still, an order was an order. It had to be done. Left with no other choice, I humbled myself, practically begging. 【I'm just a worker bee like you guys. Please, don't make this impossible for me.】 【I sympathize, Ariel, I really do. But sorry, I'm not getting on that stage.】 【Please, guys… think about the week-long, all-expenses-paid vacation I got for you, and the ten-thousand-dollar bonus for each of you. Just do this one thing for me. As a favor. Please?】 2 Though I was a department manager, I never pulled rank. I treated my team like friends, always going to bat for them, fighting for every possible perk and bonus. In the first half of the year, I’d secured that paid vacation for the entire department. In the second half, I’d wrangled a $10,000 bonus for every single person. These were benefits no other department received, extras that I had fought tooth and nail with the CEO for days to get. I knew their jobs were demanding, so I seized every opportunity to reward their hard work. Honestly, compared to other managers in the company, I was as good as it got. I believed that by fostering a friendship with my subordinates, they’d be more cooperative at work. I was wrong. 【That was then, this is now,】 one message read. 【Don't think just because you're the manager and you do us a few 'favors,' you can just boss us around!】 The person who sent that, Cassie, had once accidentally sent a client our internal cost sheet instead of the official price quote, a mistake that cost the company a fortune. The board wanted her fired. She came to my office, sobbing, begging me to intervene. At the management meeting, I took full responsibility. I offered up my entire year-end bonus to give her a second chance. I vividly remember how she cried with gratitude after the official penalty was announced, swearing she’d look up to me like an older sister forever. 【Yeah, you chose to fight the boss for that bonus. We didn't force you. That's your job. Stop acting like you're doing us some grand charity.】 This came from Leo. He came from a poor family, and during his internship, his meager salary barely covered his rent, let alone the money he sent home for his father's medical bills. To save money, he’d hide away at lunch to eat dry bread. When I found out, I started ordering him a proper meal every day, paying for it out of my own pocket. I covered his lunch for his entire final year of internship. He never once said thank you. And now, he had the gall to say something so cruel. 【That vacation and bonus were what we deserved for our hard work. It wasn't a handout from you.】 And this from Audrey. She’d gone through a nasty divorce, and her ex-husband’s family had shown up at the office to cause a scene. She hid in my office, terrified, while I went out and faced them down. I even got a resounding slap across the face from her ex for my troubles. After the divorce, when she had nowhere to go, I let her stay with me for over six months. All my kindness, all my support… what did it get me? A bloody, brutal knife in the back. A sharp pain, like a needle piercing my chest, made my hand tremble as I held my phone. 【If you make me perform, I'll quit!】 【That's right! We'll all quit! We'll show these capitalists that the little guys have teeth!】 【I support this! Gen Z is here to fix the workplace!】 My fingers shaking, I typed out a single sentence. 【But you're putting me in an impossible position.】 【Then you go talk to the execs, Ariel! Tell them we refuse to perform! Fight them just like you fought for our bonuses! Yell at the CEO! He'll cave and cancel the whole thing!】 Each heartless word was like a bucket of ice water dumped over my head, chilling me to the bone. I took a deep, shuddering breath and closed my eyes, forcing myself to find some semblance of calm. If they had no regard for me, then I had no reason to indulge them any longer. I replied: 【I am not going to pick a fight with the CEO over something so trivial. The gala performance is happening. Every single person is required on stage. No exceptions, no excuses.】 3 After sending that message, I walked out of my office and found a quiet corner on the rooftop to sit. Of all the department managers in this company, I was the only one who ran my team this way. The others were all martinets, ruling with an iron fist, barking orders, and using performance metrics as a weapon. Their departments were pressure cookers of anxiety, where employees tiptoed around in fear of making the smallest mistake. But not mine. I had always been gentle, cultivating a relaxed and cheerful atmosphere. I never held metrics over their heads. When our team achieved something, I was the first to bang on the CEO's door demanding rewards. When someone made a mistake, I would rather take the hit myself than see them punished. If someone needed time off, I always approved it. I never, ever asked them to work overtime if a task could be completed during work hours. They were my subordinates, yes, but I treated them like my friends. We worked together, we joked together, and I genuinely cared for them. Sometimes, even the CEO, Nolan, couldn't stand it. "There's an old saying, Ariel," he'd warned me. "Give them an inch, and they'll take a mile. The kinder you are, the more entitled they'll feel. Be careful they don't walk all over you one day." Back then, I didn’t believe a word of it. I even argued back. "No way, Nolan. I believe people are fundamentally good. Kindness begets kindness." Today, I finally learned the truth. Kindness does not always beget kindness. In their eyes, your kindness is weakness. Your compassion is an invitation to be exploited. In their minds, your position as manager automatically places you on the opposite side of the battlefield. How stupid I was. I let out a bitter laugh. So, so stupid. The sun was too bright, making my eyes water. I tried to wipe the tears away, but they just kept coming, soaking the palm of my hand. My phone buzzed incessantly in my pocket. The group chat was still lighting up. I pulled it out. They were now seriously discussing a mass resignation. The ringleader was a Gen Z girl, Iris Quinn. 【Hah, calls herself one of us? A 'worker bee'? Look at her now, toeing the corporate line. Helping the boss push us around.】 【See? I told you her 'niceness' was all an act! She plays the good guy to win people over, but the second there's a problem, she throws us under the bus! The mask is off!】 【Her Majesty is tired of this pathetic job. I quit.】 【This is just heartbreaking. I'm out too.】 【Let's all walk out together. We'll see how the company functions without us.】 I scanned the chat history. It was Iris who first brought up the idea of a mass resignation, and she was the one fanning the flames. It was also her who sent the first inflammatory message after my initial announcement: 【I'm here to work, not to be part of a talent show.】 I remembered her. A young girl, fresh out of college. She’d flubbed her first interview, she was so nervous. She had begged me for another chance, and my heart softened. I arranged a second interview for her, and that’s how she got the job. Because she was so young, I’d always looked out for her, even running interference and taking drinks for her at company functions. I never thought that the same girl who called me "sis" every day would be the first to plunge the knife into my back. And then encourage everyone else to give it a twist. You really can’t judge a book by its cover. And so, I typed one last message into the group chat. 【Fine. For those of you resigning, please submit your formal letters.】 The chat went dead silent. They probably expected me to do what I always did: coax them, plead with them, give them an easy way out. They thought I would march into the CEO's office and fight their battle, forcing him to cancel the performance. That would have been their victory. But they never, ever imagined that this time, I had no intention of playing their game. 4 As I walked back from the rooftop, I could hear the commotion from my office before I even reached the door. "So we quit! What's the big deal? It's time for us worker bees to unite and fight back against these ridiculous rules!" It was Iris, riling everyone up again. I frowned. What was she trying to achieve by pushing everyone to quit? What was in it for her if the entire department walked out? Another, more timid voice piped up. "I don't know… quitting over something like this seems a bit extreme. I actually like my job here." Iris’s voice boomed. "What are you afraid of? Ariel is just bluffing. She'd never dare to actually sign off on our resignations. We're just calling her bluff, threatening her." "How can you be so sure she won't sign them?" "Trust me. I know Ariel. She'll come groveling, begging us to stay. Think about it: if we all leave, who's going to do her work? The department will grind to a halt, the higher-ups will come down on her, and she'll be the one getting fired." "She's right. Ariel can't afford to lose us. The company can't afford it either!" "Let's all hand in our letters together! That'll scare the hell out of them!" Amid the roar of righteous indignation, a softer female voice emerged. "Actually… I don't think we should be doing this. Manager Shaw has always been really good to us." I was taken aback. I never expected anyone to speak up for me at a time like this. "She's one of them, a corporate stooge! All that 'goodness' is fake, just a way to manipulate us. Julie, don't let her get in your head." "No, that's not true! Think about it. Our department gets better bonuses and more perks than anyone else in the company. Those are real benefits. If she was just faking it, why would she go out of her way to piss off the CEO and fight for us?" "That's her job as a manager, isn't it?" "Have you all forgotten? The team-building hike last year? She bought every single one of us a pair of expensive running shoes with her own money. And on Valentine's Day, she gave us all the day off against the CEO’s direct orders and got chewed out for it." A warmth spread through my chest, chasing away the chill. My eyes began to sting. "And this year," Julie’s voice grew thick with emotion, "she got us that ten-thousand-dollar bonus. Last year it was six thousand. Nobody else in the company gets that. If she didn't genuinely care about us, why would she do all that extra work?" "She benefits too, obviously! When we get bonuses, she probably gets a bigger one. She's not doing it for us, she's doing it for herself." "That's not true! She doesn't get a cut of those bonuses. They're only for us. I overheard her telling the CEO that she didn't want a bonus for herself, she just wanted the company to give more to her staff. You can ask someone in finance if you don't believe me." I was deeply moved. Julie Reed. The quiet girl who always sat in the corner, a virtual unknown. It turned out she was the only one who had been paying attention, the only one who remembered everything I’d done. Iris turned on her. "What's your point, Julie? We bust our asses all year, and now we're being forced to perform like circus animals for the bosses. You think that's fair?" Julie was flustered. "That's not what I mean! Ariel said everyone who performs gets a prize, and she'd even give us extra cash from her own pocket. I just think… getting on stage for a few minutes isn't that big of a deal." "Looks like you've been brainwashed so long you can't even stand up straight anymore." "Ariel is just an employee, too! If we have a problem, we should take it up with the CEO. Why are we making her life miserable? It's his order, she can't defy it!" "She's in that position, she gets that salary, so she has to deal with our pushback!" "Yeah! Pushback! Pushback!" As the chants of protest reached a fever pitch, I walked in as if nothing was wrong and calmly took my seat at the head of the conference table. My gaze swept across the room. My voice was cold steel. "For those of you who wish to resign, I'm accepting your letters now." 5 They had never seen me like this, so stern and unyielding. Fear and confusion flickered in their eyes. "I'm quitting!" Iris Quinn stepped forward from the crowd, slapping a piece of paper onto the table in front of me. "This company has no respect for its employees. It's inhumane. I wouldn't want to work here anyway." "Good for you. Points for having a spine." I picked up her resignation letter and looked at the others. "Anyone else?" "Don't be afraid, everyone! Even if we leave, the world is a big place!" The others exchanged uncertain glances, hesitating. Iris’s voice rose again. "Don't worry! My uncle just started a new company. It's brand new, and they're desperate for people. The pay and benefits are way better than here! If we really get fired, I can get all of you jobs at my uncle's company." Her words were like a magic pill, calming their frayed nerves. A flicker of understanding sparked in my mind. I finally understood why Iris was so eager to incite a mass exodus. I said nothing, just watched her with a faint, knowing smile. My stare seemed to unnerve her. A bead of sweat trickled down her temple, but she stood her ground. "Don't be scared, everyone! Show some backbone! They won't dare fire all of us!" Her words ignited their passion once more. "I quit!" "Me too!" One by one, the resignation letters piled up on my desk. After everyone else had submitted theirs, one last person slowly shuffled forward. "Julie, you're quitting too?" "Manager Shaw… I'm so sorry, I didn't want to pressure you…" I waved a hand dismissively. "You don't have to explain. I know." Iris stood there, wearing a triumphant smirk. "Well, Ariel? All of us have resigned now. What are you going to tell the CEO?" "That's not your concern." Cassie couldn't help but chime in. "Manager Shaw, we're not trying to force your hand. All we want is for you to cancel the gala performance. That's a simple request. Surely you can do that for us?" I chuckled. "Oh, I can. But I don't want to." A flicker of panic crossed Cassie's face. "Why not?" "Because you're not worth it." A notification pinged on my phone. I glanced at it, then neatly stacked the pile of resignation letters, stood up, and walked out of the room. I tried to project an aura of calm control, but no one knew that the moment I stepped out of that office, my knees nearly gave out. The message was from the CEO. And everyone knows the CEO Law of Texting: the shorter the message, the deeper the trouble you're in. His text had only two words: 【My office.】 Seeing those two words, my vision swam. A single thought screamed through my mind: "I'm screwed." What was I going to tell him? How could I possibly explain this? I took a few deep breaths, trying to steady myself. And then, an idea began to form.
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