At the award-giving ceremony of the end-of-the-year gala, my boss, George White, suddenly announces that he will be adding a bonus round on a whim.

"This is the annual department evaluation! The department that comes last shall come onto the stage and receive a tiny encouragement from me!"

The huge screen lights up at that moment. The sales achievements accumulated by all departments are being shown in a ranking system.

The sales department is ranked first. The operations department comes second, and the marketing department gets third place.

As for the administrative department, the sales achievements shown on the screen are none. After all, that department has no KPI to achieve at all.

George beams at us from the administrative department. "Everyone from the administrative department, come on up and receive your prize!"

Two people can be seen carrying a basket of brooms up the stage. Everyone bursts into laughter instantly.

"Come now, sweep away your bad luck with the brooms! Try not to come up as the bottom-ranked department again next year!"

George personally thrusts the brooms into our hands. Camera flashes go off beneath the stage—people are clearly taking photos of us.

The people from the sales department are the ones laughing the hardest.

"Finally, the peeps from the administrative department are getting the recognition they deserve!"

When Julius Podrick returned to his seat, he slammed the broom down on the desk. "What the hell does this mean? Is he trying to publicly humiliate our entire department?"

Caleb Wright lowered his voice. "Keep it down…"

Julius' eyes reddened as the veins at his temples throbbed. "Why should I? I'm getting married in the spring. I was relying on that year-end bonus, and they handed me a broom instead?"

Renold Stone kept his head lowered. His fists were clenched tight, and his shoulders trembled.

Caleb sighed and pulled out a cigarette, rolling it between his fingers without lighting it. "My wife has a follow-up checkup next month. I was hoping to use the money to…"

Before he could say any more, my phone vibrated with a private message from the boss, George White.

"Zachary, don't overthink it. It was just meant to lighten the mood. You're a senior employee. You should have a broader perspective and keep the team in line. Do better next year and avoid coming in last again.

Perspective. That was all he had to say.

There were four of us in the administration department. We handled everything, whether it was negotiating with suppliers, maintaining government relationships, booking flights, moving heavy equipment, or fixing broken printers.

It was us who processed the sales contracts, stayed up all night moving marketing materials, and arranged every detail of George's travel.

We handled all the heavy, thankless tasks, yet in the end, the words "no performance metrics" were enough to send each of us away with a broom.

Julius stared at me. "Zach, are we really just letting this go?"

I set my broom down on the desk. "Relax. This isn't over."

After the annual gala ended, I went straight to George's office. The door was open, and the room was bustling. The sales, marketing, and finance directors stood around George, smiling and eagerly showing their commitment.

"Mr. White, our performance this year doubled under your leadership."

"Next year, we'll push harder and make even greater progress."

When I walked in, the smile on George's face froze for a moment. "Alright, everyone, head back. We'll pick this up after the New Year."

After the room cleared, he gestured for me to sit. He lit a cigarette at a leisurely pace and slid the pack across. "What's with the face? Did someone owe you money?"

I didn't take it, keeping my anger under control. "Mr. White, don't you think that part of the gala went a bit too far?"

He frowned. "Which part are you talking about?"

I said, "The broom giveaway."

He blew out a smoke ring and laughed. "Zachary, you're too sensitive. You're an adult. It was just a little game to liven things up. The other departments were all laughing too."

I lowered my gaze. "That's because the brooms didn't land in their hands."

He stubbed out his cigarette and leaned back. "Are you getting worked up now? Alright then. Why shouldn't the administration department come in last in the annual evaluation? Sales brought in 300 million dollars in profit. Operations slashed acquisition costs by 40%. Marketing tripled their exposure. What about your department?"

An inexplicable anger surged up inside me. It was about the numbers again.

During the mid-year company-wide salary adjustment, every department got a raise, except ours. The administrative department didn't see a single increment.

I went to ask why. These were his replies.

"Administrative salaries are already fixed. Unlike business departments, you don't have performance fluctuations. Raises have to come later."

"Zachary, you're a senior employee. You need to have a broader perspective."

"Wait until the end of the year. I'll make it up to you in the year-end bonus. I won't let everyone down."

It was true that our salaries were fixed, but the problem was that they hadn't changed in three years.

Prices had gone up. Rent had gone up. Everything had gone up.

Year after year, George made promises that never materialized. Yet in the end, everyone tolerated it simply because he had said, "I'll make it up a little in the year-end bonus."

I clenched my fists, holding back my anger. "Mr. White, you promised that since we didn't get a raise at mid-year, the year-end bonus would make up for it!"

He slammed the teacup down hard. "Zachary! Mind your tone! The company has its assessment system. The administrative department doesn't have performance targets. Rewards are based on contribution, and you're at the bottom. What's the issue with that?"

I tried to argue. "But in previous years—"

"Previous years are previous years!" George cut me off. "For the company to grow, we have to reform. From now on, the administrative department has to learn to manage costs on its own. Don't expect the company to cover everything."

I rose to my feet. "I see. The administrative department is disposable in your eyes."

"I never said that," George replied.

"I don't need you to say it. Your actions speak for themselves," I said, then turned and walked away.

"Stop!" George snapped. "Zachary, you've been an administrative manager for eight years. How can you have no sense of perspective and throw a fit over a smaller year-end bonus? How do you think other departments will see the administrative system?"

I turned back to meet his gaze. "Mr. White, I may not have perspective, but my team is counting on that year-end bonus for the holidays. Caleb's wife has a follow-up exam. Julius is getting married. Renold promised to take his parents to the doctor—"

"That's their personal business. What does that have to do with the company?" George said, waving his hand impatiently. "This isn't a charity. We can't just hand out extra money because employees have personal problems. If you're unhappy, go take it up with the Department of Labor and see if they'll even take it seriously!"

I froze. He had no sense of decency at all.

"Fine. I'll ask them," I said.

George smirked. "Go ahead. But if you make a scene, don't expect to stay in this field for long."

I said nothing more and slammed the door behind me.

As I left George's office, I ran into HR director Bill Kennedy in the hallway. He grinned and patted me on the shoulder like we were old friends. "Zach, perfect timing. Come on, let's talk in my office."

I didn't refuse. Bill poured me a cup of tea and sat down across from me.

He frowned and asked, "Why bother with all this?"

I looked up at him, with disbelief written all over my face.

"Bill, my team is counting on that year-end bonus. Caleb's wife has a liver condition and has been on conservative treatment. He wants to take her to a major hospital in Stonebridge before the year ends. Julius had only just found a wife in his 30s and was counting on the year-end bonus to throw a proper wedding celebration.

"Renold promised his mom a trip to Florencia this year. She has rheumatism and can't handle the cold northern winter. However, the company isn't a charity. They follow the rules. They won't hand out extra bonuses just because employees have personal issues."

Bill waved it off casually, flicking ash from his cigarette. "Fine. We won't talk about their personal issues."

I pulled out a chair and sat down, opening my phone. "Let's talk about contributions. The annual review placed the administrative department at the bottom. Distribution is supposed to reflect contribution, and we got nothing. It's time to tally up exactly what the department has done."

I pulled up work emails. "The company signed 63 contracts this year. The approval process, stamping, and filing of every single contract were handled by our department. If we had outsourced it to a law firm, each contract would have cost 3,000 dollars for the process alone. That's nearly 200,000 dollars for 63 contracts.

"Last year, the company passed the environmental review thanks to our department, which made over 20 trips to the city government office and prepared hundreds of documents over the course of three months. Outsourcing would have cost at least 150,000 dollars.

"Then there's supplier management. We maintain relationships with 47 long-term suppliers. For 12 of them, we negotiated payment terms from 30 days to 60 days. How much cash flow did that save the company?

"There are four of us in administration. Our average monthly salary is 6,000 dollars, making annual labor costs about 360,000 dollars. Any single item I just mentioned alone exceeds that number. Is that really nothing?"

Bill was at a loss for words. After a long pause, he said, "It's not that you haven't contributed, but the administrative department doesn't generate direct revenue. On the financial reports, it's pure expense…"

I let out a cold laugh. "Then let's look at the workload."

I brought up the attendance records.

"Over the past year, each admin team member averaged 42 hours of overtime every month. During the National Day move, we worked 72 hours straight without rest, hauling heavy loads. When clients showed up unexpectedly at Thanksgiving, we handled everything ourselves, from airport pickups, lodging, meals, and meeting room setups. We didn't even have time to eat.

"And no, we didn't get any overtime pay, comp time, or extra allowance. That means we were effectively making 18 dollars an hour. Even a convenience store clerk earns 22 dollars an hour."

I paused, stressing every word. "18 dollars an hour for grueling, stressful work, and at year's end, they give us a broom as a token of appreciation. Bill, does that seem fair to you?"

Bill's face darkened, and he withdrew his hand from mine. "Zach, don't just focus on your own contributions. Look at the bigger picture. Sales and marketing contribute far more than you do."

I stood up and let out a cold snort.

"What exactly did they contribute? You mean dragging through reimbursements? The administrative department fronted reimbursements for other departments all year, and there's still over 80,000 dollars unpaid! Finance refuses to approve them, citing procedural issues. What are those procedural issues exactly? Last year, it was done the same way!

"On top of that, the planning department under Mr. White's nephew managed only three proposals, one of which caused a client complaint for plagiarism. They paid 50,000 dollars in PR fees, which came straight out of our budget. Is that what you call a contribution?"

My anger flared as I continued, "And your HR team? They spend all their time making attendance sheets and issuing fines—50 dollars for being a minute late, 100 dollars for forgetting to clock in, 50 dollars for untidy desks. Last year, they raked in over 30,000 dollars in fines. Where did that money go?"

I let out a cold laugh. "Well done, all you so-called great contributors! If the company thinks the administrative department contributes nothing, don't expect us to work overtime for free anymore! We're honest, but that doesn't mean we're stupid. You can only feed people so many empty promises before even fools know they're fake!"

Ignoring Bill's sullen expression, I turned and left. Behind me, a teacup shattered on the floor. Bill's so-called goodwill was just him playing George's messenger. At the end of the day, there was no way I could believe this year's annual meeting arrangements happened without Bill's hand in it.

Back in the administrative office, all three pairs of eyes were on me.

My nose tingled, and I forced the emotions back down. I opened my mouth but couldn't get a word out.

Julius smiled wryly and plopped into a chair. "Judging by that look, I guess we didn't get anything out of it. Forget it. I'll handle the wedding somehow. Worst case, I'll just borrow a bit."

Renold wiped his face hard. "Everyone just pitched in a bit for me. Let's get my mom a regular appointment first. Specialist appointments can wait."

Caleb didn't say a word. He stared at his phone, likely letting his wife know the follow-up had to be delayed.

They forced down their resentment and sorrow, swallowing it along with every ounce of hurt.

I tightened my fists. "Caleb, you've got a contact in HR, right?"

Caleb nodded. "Louis Jackerman. Why?"

I looked up. "Ask him if the company has made any moves recently."

Caleb sent a message immediately. Minutes later, his expression changed drastically. "Zach, Louis said Mr. White has been planning to replace our department for a while. He's unhappy that our salaries have been capped for three years and still won't go lower. He wants a batch of cheap, fresh graduates instead."

Caleb gritted his teeth and slammed his phone on the table. "Bill had the legal team start preparing materials. If we dare make a fuss, they'll dig into every account we've handled, from supplier kickbacks to reimbursement irregularities. A few charges like that would be enough to ruin us."

I said, "This time, we're not letting it slide."