One Overpriced King Crab, One Bankrupt Boss

A king crab in the company's storage is about to die. In order to prevent the company from suffering a loss, I decided to buy it at the price of 480 dollars and treat my friends to a nice feast.

The next day, my boss, Mitchell Wright, calls me to his office.

"Ms. Langford, it's true that the net price of a king crab is 480 dollars. But the company has a rule that states that if an employee buys the company's products, they still have to pay according to the selling price."

While I'm quite displeased, I still transfer an additional 400 dollars to the company's bank account.

But Mitchell raises his voice at me. "Stop being a smartass! The selling price of a king crab is 88 thousand dollars, not 880 dollars!"

I do my best to refute. "But we give all of our customers a 99% discount! Surely you can't force me to spend 88 thousand dollars on a crab!"

Mitchell just chuckles icily in return.

"Rules are rules! While customers are always right, you're nothing but a corporate slave! What makes you think you deserve to receive the same treatment as the customers?

"If you refuse to pay the selling price for the crab, then don't blame me for being ruthless!"

As I watch Mitchell, who keeps yelling at me with spittle flying everywhere, I find myself filled with an eerie sense of calm.

I hope that Mitchell will still be able to chuckle when he finds out that my dad is the biggest seafood supplier.

"Since you're not willing to foot the bill, we'll just deduct it from your year-end bonus. It's also 88 thousand, anyway. That settles things between you and the company. Now, get back to work."

My boss, Mitchell Wright, waved me off, already leaning back in his chair with his eyes closed, as if the matter was wrapped and signed.

I was so pissed I couldn't get a word out. I turned and walked straight out of his office.

Back at my desk, Cole Winter, from the next cubicle, leaned over.

"Hey, Louise. Mr. Wright just brought in a young guy," he said. "I heard he's some distant nephew, newly hired as procurement. Apparently, he's supposed to take over your job."

I let out a cold laugh.

No wonder Mitchell suddenly put me on the spot today, insisting I approve an 88-thousand-dollar king crab purchase. So, that was the play to push me out and free up the headcount for his relative.

I joined this online seafood company right after graduation. Over the last eight years, it wasn't like I hadn't received better offers. I stayed because I felt a sense of loyalty to the company. I didn't want to job-hop.

It turned out that loyalty carried no weight in Mitchell's eyes.

I had barely settled back into my seat when he walked over with a young man in his early 20s. "Ms. Langford, this is Zachary Dunn, our new procurement hire. Please get him up to speed and handle the transition."

I looked up at Mitchell and asked calmly, "A transition? I don't recall submitting a resignation letter, Mr. Wright. Are you terminating me? If so, under labor law, when can I expect the severance package?

"Please calculate it based on my tenure."

He reacted as if he had just heard the biggest joke of the year. A short, dismissive laugh slipped out.

"Compensation?" he jeered. "You've been using your position to take in kickbacks from suppliers for who knows how long. The fact that I'm not holding you accountable is me cutting you some slack."

After I joined the company, I built the entire procurement system from scratch. To secure better pricing and higher-quality supply, I traveled across every coastal city on my own.

I have not taken any advantage of the company. If anything, I paid out of my own pocket more times than I could count.

"So, what you're saying is, you plan to terminate me and not pay a single penny in compensation?" I asked.

"Have some self-awareness, Louise," Mitchell said, raising his voice. "I'm just cleaning house for the company!"

"If that's how you want to play it," I said evenly, "what makes you think I'll hand over all the supplier data?"

Mitchell didn't get angry. Instead, he let out a low chuckle. "I figured you'd try that. Do you honestly think those supplier files are that confidential?"

The smug look on his face was hard to miss. "I'll be honest with you. I've installed monitoring software on your computer long ago. Supplier lists, pricing, order volumes—I've got backups of everything.

"Oh, and I also came across your chat logs. You've been flirting with men during work hours. You look all cold and professional on the outside, but in secret, you're surprisingly open-minded."

The moment he said that, a few colleagues who had been quietly listening in turned their heads toward us. A chill shot up from my feet to my scalp. This bastard had installed surveillance software on my computer!

"That's a direct violation of my privacy, Mr. Wright!"

Mitchell looked unfazed. "If I hadn't, you might've actually tried to leverage supplier data against us today. And don't get so worked up. Seeing those chats with all those different men was only incidental."

As he spoke, he pulled out his phone and showed Zachary screenshots of the chat records. They exchanged knowing, unpleasant smiles.

Those so-called different men were nothing more than blind dates my mom had set up, worried sick that I was still single at my age. I tried to keep those conversations after work hours, but a few were persistent.

Messages kept rolling in one after another, and I would reply with a few perfunctory lines just to keep things courteous. I never imagined this would be twisted into so-called evidence that I was flirting with men on company time.

I clenched my fists, holding it together with everything I had, forcing myself not to snap.

Just then, Zachary leaned in toward Mitchell and said, loud enough for everyone nearby to hear. "Uncle Mitch, I just took a look. Ms. Langford's supplier list is short—only a couple of major ones. There's barely any maintenance involved.

"I can't believe you've been paying her that kind of salary all this time. That's a terrible ROI. I'll do it for half her pay and still deliver, I promise you."

Mitchell nodded with clear satisfaction and patted him on the shoulder. Then, he shot me a sideways glance. "You hear that? Tenure doesn't always give you leverage. You coast along and act like you're irreplaceable."

I suddenly laughed, a cold breath slipping out through my nose. My short supplier list—indeed, that was true. But what he didn't know was how that pipeline was built in the first place.

Back then, to break through a competitor's price barrier, I went to my dad and asked him for help.

We pulled together dozens of scattered fishermen and small-scale aquaculture farmers from our coastal hometown. Piece by piece, we consolidated them into a single, stable supply chain.

That was the real asset, and it wasn't something any competitor could reverse-engineer overnight.

Over the past few years, labor and logistics costs had gone up year after year. The only reason our margins held was that my procurement prices never moved. That was what kept our products competitive in the market.

Dad complained to me more than once. The people under him thought the purchase prices were too low and were close to walking away. Each time, I smoothed it over, coaxing and negotiating until they stayed.

Meanwhile, this idiot, Zachary, really thought procurement was only about making a few calls and talking a good game.

I stood up slowly and met Mitchell's eyes. "Fine. Since I'm no longer needed, I'll submit my resignation. I've worked at this company for eight years. Under the labor law, the company owes me 280 thousand in severance.

"I expect it to be settled in full on my last working day. Otherwise…"

I paused, pulling a cold smile. "I'll see you at the Labor Arbitration Panel. I've got work to do now, Mr. Wright. By all means, see yourself out."

Mitchell let out a dismissive chuckle and walked off with Zachary.