Jin Muchen stepped off the bus, taking a deep breath as the morning sunlight gently kissed his face. With determination, he clenched his fist and proceeded towards the warehouse ahead.
That warehouse was the location of Jin Muchen's job interview today—a distribution center on the outskirts of Brooklyn, New York, where a Costco chain supermarket was situated.
In the United States, large supermarkets such as Walmart and Costco were plentiful, but their geographical locations differed significantly from those in China. While large supermarkets in China were typically situated in bustling urban areas, in the United States, they were often found in suburban regions, reflecting the living habits of the American populace.
Living in the suburbs while working downtown was the lifestyle of many Americans, leading large supermarkets to prefer locations in residential areas away from city centers. Consequently, distribution centers for supermarkets tended to be situated even further on the periphery, much like the one where Jin Muchen was interviewing today—located at the border of Brooklyn and Queens, serving three Costco supermarkets in Brooklyn and Queens.
Costco, belonging to the category of large wholesale supermarkets, was suitable for families with multiple members due to its lower prices compared to Walmart. Therefore, this supermarket had a large customer base, especially in impoverished areas like Queens.
Due to the thriving business of the supermarket, the workload at the distribution center was also very heavy. When Jin Muchen saw the job posting, it was clearly stated that it involved heavy physical labor. The job description emphasized meeting the employer's requirements by moving designated goods from the shelves to the trucks within a specified time frame, essentially entailing loading and unloading duties.
The job was demanding, but the pay was indeed high—$28 per hour, surpassing the minimum wage standard in the United States by more than twice. This was particularly suitable for Jin Muchen, who was in urgent need of income.
A few days ago, Jin Muchen would have definitely not considered taking this job. Although the pay was good, he knew his body couldn't handle it. However, after experiencing that strange incident, especially now, he had absolute confidence in his strength.
Waiting to greet him at the warehouse entrance was a burly Caucasian man standing at about 6 feet tall, solid as a mountain, likely in his fifties. His expression showed some surprise when he realized Jin Muchen was Asian.
"Hey, you must be Muchen?"
"Yes, that's me. Pleasure to meet you."
"I'm John, the supervisor here and your interviewer."
John reached out to shake hands with Jin Muchen. His grip was firm, his palm rough like the surface of a lunar rock.
"All right, no time to waste. Let's get started."
John was a straightforward guy. After a few brief exchanges, he led Jin Muchen into the warehouse.
Today, this Asian man was the first Chinese applicant John had seen. Previously, most applicants were African American or Hispanic, often robust but with somewhat lax personalities, especially the African Americans.
Generally, they couldn't last long on the job. Essentially, they worked for about a month, saved a few thousand dollars, then quit to enjoy themselves until they ran out of money and returned.
If it weren't for the urgent need for manpower today, old John wouldn't have agreed to let this Chinese kid try his luck. After all, despite his height, he didn't seem particularly strong.
"The latest order is from a branch in Queens. They need 1000 pounds of flour loaded onto the truck within half an hour and delivered to the supermarket within an hour. If you can finish within half an hour, the job is yours."
John took Jin Muchen directly to a small mountain of flour bags and pointed, saying.
This was no easy task. One thousand pounds of flour, over 900 pounds in weight, even a burly African American as strong as an ox wouldn't dare guarantee finishing the entire loading task alone within half an hour.
Jin Muchen looked at the mountain of flour bags in front of him, then turned to look at John. He could see the doubt in the old man's eyes.
Meanwhile, a group of curious African Americans and Hispanics had gathered nearby, chatting as if waiting for him to make a fool of himself.
Jin Muchen wasn't angry. He just smiled faintly and said to John, "All right, I'll give it a try."
With that, he took off his long-sleeved T-shirt and headed towards the mountain of flour.
Seeing this guy take off his shirt, revealing muscles like cast iron, old John was taken aback. It was hard to believe that this guy belonged to the type who would say, "Don't judge me by my skinny appearance; I'm all muscle."
But compared to the muscular guys around here, his physique might not be impressive enough.
At this moment, a group of idlers who weren't working had gathered behind John, chattering away.
"Hey, John, do you think he can do it?"
"I doubt it... John, letting him try out is a waste of time."
"Hey, Paul, shut your trap. I think he's okay."
"Jim, you're always picking fights. Want to make a bet?"
"Sure, let's bet. Whoever loses treats at the Red Colt Tavern tonight."
"Hey, shut up, look..."
"Oh my god, is this guy even human?"
"WTF, this guy is definitely a machine, not human... Haha, looks like Paul, you're doomed to treat tonight..."
The flour bags were $50 each, Jin Muchen tried one, feeling its weight. He picked up one bag, placed it on his shoulder, then another, stacking it on the first. It didn't feel particularly heavy; this weight wasn't particularly challenging for him. With his current strength, it seemed manageable...
So he lifted four bags at once, walked down from the flour stack, and placed them on the ground shelf.
After another trip, he seemed to be running out of energy, but whenever his waist and arms felt sore, a surge of heat would burst from his dantian, circling around his body, immediately dispelling the fatigue. It was as if he were filled with electricity, full of vigor. This made Jin Muchen more confident as he worked.
He stacked 500 pounds neatly in ten minutes. Bacon in paper bags, though, had to be handled with care; if dropped, it would easily break. So the process of putting them down had to be very careful, much more laborious than carrying a few bags on the shoulder.
Normally, these rough-hewn movers would accidentally damage one or two bags when doing this work, and the more tired they got, the more likely they were to make mistakes.
After placing the flour bags on the shelf, he tightened them with plastic film, called for a forklift, and directly loaded the shelf with the tightened flour bags onto the truck.
The job seemed simple, but it was actually not that easy. Yet Jin Muchen seemed like a robot wound up, every move precise. After a few rounds, he wasn't even breathing heavily, and he barely broke a sweat, looking as if he were lifting weights effortlessly. This stunned not only the old black and Hispanic workers who knew how difficult the job was but even old John, who had been working for decades, found it hard to believe.
Back in the day, even when he was young, he didn't seem to be able to be as nimble as this kid!
"All right, kid, the job is yours
. Thirty dollars per hour, and for that last task, I'll count it as forty minutes."
The job was paid by time and piece rate, but it was difficult to find someone as efficient and hardworking as this young man now. Giving him an extra ten minutes was a small reward, but since the company was paying, why not?
Old John patted Jin Muchen's shoulder. This kid was really as strong as a young bull. He had truly underestimated him earlier.
"Oh, by the way, after work tonight, don't rush home. Paul's treating at the Red Colt Tavern..."
"Oh, no, guys, can we wait until Friday? Today isn't payday, is it?"
Paul, the big black man who lost the bet, put his hand on his forehead and lamented, but what came next was a chorus of whistles from around him.
"Shut up, Paul, you still have a credit card..."
The surrounding workers laughed heartily, while Jin Muchen just smiled with his head down.
John led Jin Muchen to a makeshift office in a container by the warehouse, filled out a bunch of forms, then gave him a hard hat and overalls. Jin Muchen officially started work that day.
At six in the evening, Jin Muchen's shift finally ended. Everyone started clocking out, but before leaving, John called everyone to another makeshift warehouse beside the office container.
"Take whatever you like, help yourselves."
With that, he turned and left. A group of black and Hispanic workers cheered and walked over to the damaged goods, and Jin Muchen followed.
These things were some of the goods whose packaging had been accidentally damaged by workers during the day, such as bacon with torn packaging, deformed tin cans from collisions, and beer and beverages with broken packaging.
And this was the second reason why Jin Muchen took this job—the handling of these goods.
This could help him solve a large part of his food problem, especially now that his body had begun to change.