I Really Didn't Mean to Make Money

“My company pays the maximum tax amount every month and never engages in any illegal or unethical business. What do I have to worry about?”

Chen Mo replied casually.

But inside, he was shouting with excitement—Great if it has an impact! The more the better! It’d be even better if the company loses money!

Tang Qiu fell silent at Chen Mo’s response. Considering her current situation, joining his company was her best option.

But she still had a lingering doubt.

Chen Mo’s company was just a small factory, and even including Cangxue Games, it hadn’t reached the scale where a legal department was necessary.

Thinking of this, she voiced her concern.

“President Chen, from what I know about the company, isn’t it unnecessary to set up a legal department?”

“Lawyer Tang, you can’t just look at the present. The company’s growth is only a matter of time. Establishing a legal department early is just a way to prepare in advance.”

Chen Mo rubbed his temples and explained with a bit of frustration.

Is she the walking “Ten Thousand Whys”?

“If President Chen can ensure that the company’s future development won’t violate laws or cross any moral boundaries, then I’m willing to join.”

Tang Qiu hesitated, then slowly spoke.

Law and ethics were her bottom line.

If it were a company like Ruishang that disregarded employee safety and had no moral compass, she wouldn’t join even if they offered her ten million a year.

“I can guarantee that.”

Chen Mo nodded. These conditions meant nothing to him.

“In that case, let’s schedule a time to sign the contract.”

Tang Qiu gave a faint smile. She trusted Chen Mo’s words to some extent. After all, she had some understanding of the employee benefits at his company.

A boss who cared about his employees probably wouldn’t do anything morally questionable.

“Then tomorrow at the clothing factory. You still remember where it is, right?”

“I remember. See you tomorrow then.”

After a few polite exchanges, the two left the café together.

———

Late at night, inside a rented apartment.

Jiang Jiu downed a bottle of Red Bull from the table and stared at the computer screen with bloodshot eyes, mechanically controlling his character to grind monsters non-stop.

And just like that—

One hour passed.

Then two hours...

Until dawn.

Jiang Jiu slumped in his chair, dazed, and rubbed his head hard to wake himself up a bit.

He checked the guild bulletin to confirm he hadn’t been farming the wrong monsters, and then began to doubt everything.

Am I really that unlucky?

It had been an entire night—a full night!

And he didn’t get a single equipment drop.

Are you kidding me?

He opened the guild chat, planning to ask how the others were doing.

“Did anyone get any drops?”

After a while—

Replies started to come in one after another.

“Luck’s bad today. Didn’t get a single piece of equipment.”

“I thought I was the only unlucky one. Seeing you like this, I feel a bit better.”

“You guys too? Damn it, I pulled an all-nighter and got nothing!”

“......”

Seeing all these responses, Jiang Jiu realized something wasn’t right.

If it were just one or two people, bad luck could be blamed. But none of them got a drop? That was a whole different story.

Just how low did the devs set the drop rate?!

There were at least twenty or thirty people grinding gear all night, and not a single one of them got anything. That was beyond ridiculous.

After thinking it over, he picked up his phone and made a call.

A moment later, the call connected.

“What is it?”

Hearing the grumpy tone on the other end, Jiang Jiu quickly said,

“Hao-ge, something’s wrong.”

“What’s wrong? Speak clearly.”

Chen Cong sat up in bed and checked the time—it was just after seven.

“That game, Tianlong. Didn’t you ask us to grind gear? Well, the drop rate seems off. My guildmates and I grinded all night and didn’t get a single drop.”

“Not a single one?”

Chen Cong asked in confusion. This had never happened before.

“Not a single one,” Jiang Jiu confirmed.

“I got it.”

Chen Cong was instantly wide awake. He’d planned on getting revenge today, but if there was no gear, how was he supposed to do that?

He hung up, got out of bed, went straight to his desk, turned on his computer, and logged into the game.

He entered the guild chat and quickly typed:

“Did anyone get any drops?”

Very soon, A bunch of guild members replied.

Seeing message after message saying they got nothing, Chen Cong finally understood that Jiang Jiu wasn’t exaggerating.

It was true—no one had gotten a drop.

Interesting.

Do they think lowering the drop rate will stop me?

He quickly typed another message in the guild chat:

“Keep grinding. 20,000 per drop.”

With heavy rewards, come brave warriors.

Everyone in his guild were hardcore gamers—real grinders.

Pulling all-nighters was nothing to them if gear was on the line.

Inside the rented apartment, Jiang Jiu had originally planned to catch a nap, but once he saw Hao-ge’s message, he changed his mind instantly.

He got up, went to the fridge, pulled out a stack of Red Bulls, and placed them on the table.

Cracking one open and downing most of it in a gulp, he continued grinding.

So what if the drop rate’s low? If I can’t get it in one day, I’ll grind for two. If two days isn’t enough, I’ll do three.

This money is mine to earn.

———

After sending the message in the game, Chen Cong picked up his phone again and made another call.

“Hao-ge, calling this early? That’s not like you!”

A slightly teasing voice came from the other end.

Chen Cong ignored the teasing and got straight to the point.

“Serious matter—how many people can your studio mobilize?”

“As long as you give the word, my whole studio is at your service.”

“I’ve got a job—grinding for gear. 20,000 per drop. Are you in? But I’ll say this up front, the drop rate is extremely low. My guild spent the whole night and didn’t get a single item.”

Chen Cong finished speaking and waited quietly for a reply.

But he was confident—the price he offered was too tempting to refuse.

Sure enough, after a moment, the voice on the other end responded.

“What game? What gear? How many do you need...?”

Chen Cong quickly relayed the basic info.

“Got it.”

In Jiang City, inside an office suite.

Mei Youqian hung up the phone, looked around the room, and called out:

“Everyone stop what you’re doing. We’ve got a new gig—grinding for gear. 15,000 per piece.”

“I’ll send the game info to the group in a bit, keep an eye out.”

“Oh, and I heard the drop rate’s pretty low, so feel free to bring in more people. As for how much to pay them, you decide.”