Chen Fu sat in the captain's exclusive cushioned chair, and it really felt different—in contrast, everyone else sat on hard wooden chairs, their hemorrhoids nearly flaring up from sitting so long.
Of course, that was still better; if he had to do a shift as a covert sentry, there wouldn't even be anywhere to sit, not even room to stand, just crouching with a bent back while enduring mosquito bites—that could only be summed up with the word "miserable."
Obviously, work like covert sentry duty would never fall to Chen Fu; the old agents wouldn't take it either. It always went to the few new recruits. Fresh meat for the grinder, that was just how things worked.
As a bottom-tier agent, you couldn't escape the fate of being ordered around.
"After all this time, doing all this dirty work, I finally… am no longer at the bottom."
