The muscleman kept retreating, his expression one of fear as if he were about to be mounted by a sow.
You can imagine!
"Seriously? Are those muscles just for show? Can't you see that the blade of my switchblade is already dull?" The knife-wielder's previously fierce and malevolent demeanor vanished immediately; clearly, they were testing him.
The muscleman, hearing this, turned beet red. He, too, felt the humiliation.
"We're not looking for someone who is all bark and no bite. We need elites, those who can step up at a crucial moment. I'll tell you, the probationary salary is two thousand, and once you're official, it's five thousand a month. After a full year, you get 'three funds and insurance,' and of course, there's a year-end bonus," the middle-aged man spoke again.
The pay the middle-aged man mentioned was genuinely impressive—five thousand a month, plus 'three funds and insurance,' and a year-end bonus after one year. That was definitely a lucrative position.