Pier Bachman felt that he was having the worst luck ever, to the point that he could not drink his most favorite hand-ground coffee while sitting in his chair.
Looking up at the people buried in work within the company, he was slightly stunned for a moment, then lowered his head to look at the email on his desk.
The title of this email was very simple - just his name. But the contents displayed in the attachment, once opened, made Pier break out in a cold sweat.
His body naturally tended to sweat easily, but this shock made it flow like syrup, immediately soaking his face and clothes.
Pulling out a piece of paper, Pier wiped off the sweat over and over again, his hand still shaking as he held the mouse.
"Fu*ck, fu*ck ..."
"Why did this happen? Why did this happen?"
If he had known that working in China would bring him such an experience, he would have never come to China, even if it killed him.
