Just as Heath started serving customers, he heard the sound of high heels approaching. Looking up, he saw Miss Wednesday at the end of the line, dressed in expensive luxury clothing.
Heath's mouth twitched—Miss Wednesday was here again. However, he hadn't prepared any buns today, so he wasn't sure what she would want.
Whenever Miss Wednesday visited, Heath felt a bit nervous because she always seemed to be in a hurry, watching him intently as he cooked. It reminded Heath of being watched by an invigilator during exams, which, although he wasn't cheating, still made him feel pressured.
After serving a few customers with breakfast crepes, Miss Wednesday approached. Her face was makeup-free, but her fair and delicate skin would make many women envious. She had a very refined and appealing demeanor.
"Heath, one egg fried rice to go, please make it quick," Miss Wednesday said rapidly. Heath nodded, quickly cracking an egg and starting to make the fried rice.
He poured the beaten eggs into the heated pan, stirred them, added rice, and then scallions from Farfetch'd. As he worked, he asked if she wanted to add braised chicken legs or tofu.
Miss Wednesday declined, preferring her egg fried rice with just scallions.
After Heath packed the finished dish into a container, Miss Wednesday hurriedly took it and rushed into the office building. Her speed made Heath worry about her possibly twisting an ankle in those high heels.
Heath noticed something interesting: the office building where Miss Wednesday worked was always the first to fill up. Apparently, her employees knew her nature and arrived earlier than those from other companies. Despite this, Wednesday Beauty Salon had the lowest turnover rate and highest employee satisfaction. Many employees stated they would stay as long as Wednesday Beauty Salon existed.
This was due to the high salaries, excellent benefits, and Miss Wednesday's attitude. In a TV interview, it was mentioned that Wednesday Beauty Salon's wages were three times higher than other salons, with minimal overtime. When overtime was required, it was compensated at triple the rate. Additionally, employees received generous bonuses during holidays.
Heath felt that Miss Wednesday's approach was akin to a "wolf culture" company—where the leader shared the benefits rather than hoarding them. Unlike companies where subordinates were left with scraps and told to work harder for the leader's benefit.
In Heath's view, people like Miss Wednesday would succeed in any entrepreneurial venture due to their effective leadership.
Just as Heath was about to continue serving customers, a group of Officer Jennys arrived on motorcycles. Officer Jenny Bell dismounted, dispersed the crowd, and approached Heath.
"Heath, pack up your cart. The League's chairman is visiting Viridian City today," Officer Jenny Bell said seriously. Heath nodded and began packing his food cart.
The League was a significant organization, and aside from the Elite Four and Champion, it had other departments. The highest decision-making body was the League Council, with the chairman holding considerable power, even more than the Champion.
Whenever the chairman visited, street vendors had to pack up their stalls. Heath was accustomed to this routine.
During Heath's four years in Viridian City, the chairman had visited twice. Each time, he visited the Viridian Gym, chatted with Giovanni, and awarded the city the League's Public Safety Award, which was a credit to Officer Jenny Maple and her team.
Thus, Heath felt no distress about the sudden event and skillfully packed his tables and chairs, then drove to a parking lot, planning to resume business after the chairman's departure.
"Trainer, are you done for the day?" Zorua asked, surprised as Heath lifted her from the cart. It wasn't even dark yet.
"Yes, no street vending allowed today," Heath shrugged, placing the book Zorua was holding back in the cart.
"Char?" Charmander was sipping from his protein shake cup, enjoying the taste.
"Char said, are we going to battle this afternoon?" Zorua translated, looking reluctantly at the closed cart door—she had been reading something exciting.
Heath hesitated, seeing Charmander's eager expression. Although he had no particular interest in battling, his aspiration was to become an excellent chef. However, Charmander seemed keen on battling.
"If you can grill this meat to a perfect crisp, I'll take you to battle," Heath said, fetching a piece of pork belly, skewering it, and handing it to Charmander.
He also stopped Zorua from sneaking back to the book, handing her to the exhausted Farfetch'd.
"Hmph!" Zorua pouted, whispering to Farfetch'd.
Heath was amused but noted Zorua's naming pattern—repetitive syllables. Did that mean she called him Hihi or Sisisi? It felt odd.
Charmander, holding the skewer, blew a flame but ended up charring the meat.
"See? Your flame control needs work. A good Charmander must perfectly control its flames. Keep practicing," Heath said, patting Charmander's head.
Charmander, recovering quickly from injuries, had only a few bandages left.
Charmander nodded firmly and then tilted his head, asking something.
"Char asked what we're doing next," Zorua translated before returning to whispering with Farfetch'd.
Heath looked at the streets of Viridian City and decided to treat himself for once.
"Let's go to the food street!"
Heath reminisced about a previous job where the boss spoke of passion and a wolfish spirit but never discussed pay, leading to constant overtime. Heath had promptly resigned.
(End of Chapter)