Mastering the Sword Manual, sweeping across the globe

Just as the vulgar words were about to erupt, a dull thud came from the commander's inner pocket.

The commander lowered his head, glanced at the number, turned around, and strode towards a soundproof corner at the far end of the conference room, separated by frosted glass.

The glass door closed silently behind him.

About three minutes later, the commander returned.

Whether it was the three-minute buffer that worked or his self-control that finally returned, the commander's expression returned to calm.

So the messenger finally dared to ask, "What's the situation with the Labor Service Dispatch Office in the East District... Please give me your instructions on the direction of the follow-up investigation and handling?"

"Just process it normally."

"what?"

"When Heaven is about to kill someone, it first makes them go mad... Let him run rampant for a few more days."

--------

Zhang Qiliang is not arrogant at all.

He finally changed his clothes and took off the non-prescription black-rimmed glasses that were only used to maintain his image.

Having lost his job yesterday, Zhang Qiliang is now looking for work.

Yes, looking for a job.

Zhang Qiliang still had more than 20,000 yuan in cash on him.

However, that was savings.

Everyone knows how heartbreaking it is to see your savings dwindle!

If it were a drizzly morning, the idea might be even less appealing than the thought of fleeing!

Furthermore, with Zhang Qiliang's current skills and abilities, making money would be a piece of cake. However, the education he received from childhood has taught him that he dislikes using even a penny of ill-gotten gains.

So, all we can do is work hard... to make ends meet.

At this moment, Zhang Qiliang was walking on a slightly noisy street near the logistics park, with auto parts stores, small restaurants and storefronts with various logistics and express delivery signs on both sides.

His gaze swept across the glass windows plastered with job postings, finally settling on the side of an inconspicuous stairwell, where a slightly curled A4 sheet of paper was pasted:

"Urgently hiring delivery riders! Full-time and part-time positions available! Preference given to riders with their own electric bikes! High pay per rider, high volume, direct recruitment by the station manager, daily payment (weekly payment possible)! Accommodation provided! Contact: Station Manager Li; Phone: 13XXXXXXXXX"

The provision of accommodation, paid daily or weekly, is very attractive to Zhang Qiliang now.

Following the address, Zhang Qiliang went up the narrow staircase to the second floor and pushed open a glass door with the logo of a food delivery platform.

Inside was a large, cluttered, and bustling space: several rows of simple tables were put together to form an office area, where a few young people were processing orders on their computers or mobile phones; boxes of mineral water, helmets, and power banks were piled up in the corner; the air was filled with a mixture of sweat, the lingering smell of takeout food, and cigarette smoke.

A greasy-haired middle-aged man was yelling into the phone, "We have to speed up the food preparation at that restaurant!"

After the other party hung up the phone, Zhang Qiliang stepped forward: "Station Manager Li? Saw the job posting, come and apply to be a delivery rider."

Station Chief Li turned his head, his bloodshot eyes scrutinizing Zhang Qiliang: "Have you done this before? Our area has all sorts of orders, lots of old buildings, it tests both physical strength and eyesight."

"I've never done it before, but I'm physically fit and have a good sense of direction," Zhang Qiliang replied succinctly.

"Electric car?"

"Arrange it as soon as possible."

"Health certificate?" Station Chief Li asked.

"If needed, I can take care of it."

Station Chief Li seemed fairly satisfied with this "obedient" attitude, mainly because there was indeed a shortage of people, especially those who seemed relatively reliable.

"Okay, base salary plus commission, the more you do, the more you earn. Overtime, bad reviews, and complaints will all result in deductions, the rules are posted on the wall. The accommodation is in an old residential area behind, an eight-person room, a bit cramped, but cheap, a little will be deducted from your salary as a token gesture. Did you bring your ID card? Let me register you and complete the online onboarding process. The platform has simple training videos for you to watch."

Zhang Qiliang pulled out another "borrowed" ID card from his pocket. The name was Ma Xiaoming, and the photo showed a round-faced, slightly chubby young man.

Station Chief Li took it, glanced at it casually, then looked up at Zhang Qiliang: "How come you've lost so much weight all of a sudden?"

"I got sick."

Station Master Li didn't delve into it. He'd seen plenty of people using relatives' ID cards or whose appearances had changed drastically in his line of work. He took a picture of the ID card with his phone and then started working on the computer: "Ma Xiaoming, right... Okay, the information's been entered. We can start following orders this afternoon and get familiar with the app and the process."

"Get the bike, helmet, and cooler box ready as soon as possible; there are places to buy them nearby. I'll help Lao Zhao with a few deliveries today; that'll be a trial period, and I'll get a basic delivery fee. Is that alright?"

"no problem."

38. Inviting guests

So, Zhang Qiliang started running errands with Lao Zhao.

Old Zhao was a man in his early forties, with dark skin, his face etched with the marks of wind and sun, bright eyes, and a very honest nature.

He was riding a modified electric scooter with a large battery capacity, and the insulated box on the back was quite clean.

Upon seeing the newcomer, Lao Zhao didn't waste any words. He simply patted the back seat of his car and said, "Get in, hurry up, it's the tail end of the morning rush hour, we can still grab a few more orders."

Zhang Qiliang climbed onto the back seat.

Old Zhao twisted the throttle, and the electric scooter smoothly merged into the traffic.

The first order was a home-style breakfast delivered to the sixth floor of an old residential building. The order consisted of soy milk, fried dough sticks, and steamed buns.

There was no elevator. Old Zhao carried the bag and walked upstairs with quick steps. His pace was not slow, and his breathing was only slightly rapid.

He composed himself at the door, and when he knocked, a smile appeared on his face: "Hello, here's your takeout. Enjoy your meal."

Inside the door was a sleepy-eyed young man who mumbled a thank you.

The second order was delivered to the front desk of a company in a nearby office building. Registration was required, and it took some time to wait for the elevator.

The young woman at the front desk was busy. She took the takeout and casually put it aside without even looking up.

The third order was a bit troublesome; the address wasn't clear, it was a small, privately owned shop hidden deep in an alley.

Old Zhao knew this area well and found it after wandering around for a while, but he couldn't get through to the customer by phone.

He patiently waited at the door for three minutes, during which time he also received a call from the station urging him to expedite his order. Finally, he took a photo according to the platform rules, reported the anomaly, and then rushed to the next station.

The fourth order was simple; it was at the convenience store across the street, less than 200 meters from where you would pick up or deliver the package.

The tail end of the morning rush hour was quickly swept away by these few orders.

It was almost 10 a.m. when I got back to the station.

The station was a bit busier than in the morning. Several deliverymen who had just finished their morning rush were resting. Some were slumped in their chairs scrolling through their phones, while others were gulping down water.

The air was thicker with the smell of sweat and the heat brought in from outside.

A young man who looked a few years younger than Zhang Qiliang, with dyed blond hair, was taking off his soaked work jacket while yelling to the person next to him, "I can't go on anymore. I've been running around all morning, and I'm completely exhausted. I'm going back to catch up on some sleep, and I'll fight again tonight."

Upon hearing this, Zhang Qiliang's eyes lit up.

He walked to the nearby convenience store and bought two packs of Yuxi cigarettes.

Then he walked back and stuffed a bag into Old Zhao's hand, who was wiping his sweat: "Brother Zhao, you must be tired this morning. Thank you for taking me with you... This is just a small token of my appreciation."

Old Zhao paused for a moment, then waved his hand: "Hey, there's no need for that..."

"Of course." Zhang Qiliang gently placed the cigarette on the table next to Lao Zhao.

Then, he took another pack of cigarettes, walked up to the blond-haired guy who was clamoring to go back and catch up on sleep, and handed it to him: "Brother, I just heard you say you wanted to go back and rest? I've only just started running, and I haven't had time to get my vehicle and equipment yet. I see you still have your vehicle and box... Can I borrow them to try out some gear?"

The blond-haired guy took the cigarette, looked at the brand, and then looked up at Zhang Qiliang.

Although he had removed his glasses, Zhang Qiliang still had a scholarly appearance and spoke politely, unlike the kind of person who was clumsy or unreliable.

Most importantly, his car is just an ordinary old car, and the insulated box is even less valuable. Lending it out for half a day won't cause any loss, so why not gain a favor?

After a slight hesitation, his friend scratched his head and said, "Alright, you seem like a reliable person. Here are the keys. The battery is about half full, so ride it sparingly. Clean out the cooler yourself. The helmet is in the trunk. Just get back here by 6 p.m.."

"Thank you!" Zhang Qiliang took the keys and thanked him sincerely.

So, less than two hours after starting his job, delivery driver "Ma Xiaoming" got his own "chariot" for the time being.

Although worn out, it was enough to carry him on his first day of independent riding as a rider.

He put on his slightly worn helmet, clipped his phone to the holder on the handlebars, and opened the food delivery app with the orange icon.

The tutorial for new users is very simple: regional map, order pool, order settings... With Zhang Qiliang's current information processing ability, he understood the rules at a glance.

He didn't try to get more.

Although I have LV+++ physical strength and an excellent memory, it was my first day running, and I lacked practical experience in areas such as business district layout, restaurant food preparation speed, community access control rules, and office building rush hours.

To ensure delivery efficiency and avoid customers going hungry due to unfamiliarity with the route, Zhang Qiliang cautiously set the maximum number of orders that can be accepted at the same time to 2 in the order settings.

"Ding dong!"

The system dispatched the first order.

It was an order from a chain porridge shop, to be delivered to a mid-range residential community 1.5 kilometers away.

Picking up the food went smoothly. The porridge shop operated according to standard procedures. The packaged food was placed on the pickup cabinet. Zhang Qiliang checked the receipt and put it into the insulated box.

Almost simultaneously, the system sent another order in the same direction.

It was a popular milk tea shop, and the order was to be delivered to a nearby office building. Zhang Qiliang also accepted the order.

The community access control requires registration, but the security guard saw that he was wearing a food delivery uniform and simply asked for his building number before letting him in.

The elevator requires a card, so he called the customer in advance based on the information in the notes, and the customer cooperated by pressing the elevator button remotely.

When the delivery arrived, a young mother in home clothes opened the door, holding a baby in her arms. She thanked the delivery person repeatedly, saying that the baby was fussy and she hadn't had time to cook.

Zhang Qiliang nodded, said "You're welcome, be careful, it's hot," and then turned and left.

There were three to five people queuing outside the milk tea shop, all of them delivery riders and individual customers waiting to pick up their orders.

Zhang Qiliang gave the order number, and the clerk glanced at the screen: "Number 578? Still being processed. There are three more orders ahead of us, so it will probably take seven or eight minutes."

This is a common pitfall for beginners—failing to accurately estimate the serving time of popular restaurants.

With only two orders completed, Zhang Qiliang had plenty of time and wasn't in a hurry. He stood quietly to the side, observing his surroundings: delivery riders were anxiously scrolling through their phones and urging the shop assistants; young couples were excitedly discussing the new product flavors; and the shop assistants were mechanically repeating the operating procedures, sweat beading on their foreheads.

Seven or eight minutes later, Zhang Qiliang received two cups of packaged milk tea, tightly sealed and carefully placed in leak-proof bags.

The office building has no access control, but you still have to wait for the elevator even though the peak hours have just passed.

He delivered the milk tea to the reception desk of a company on the 12th floor.

The receptionist was frowning as she processed forms on her computer, and without looking up, she pointed to the table next to her: "Just put it there."

Zhang Qiliang put down the milk tea, and the system clicked "deliver".

Two orders completed, no timeout pressure, no reviews yet, and a slight increase in system points.

He rode his bike slowly along the edge of the business district, waiting for the next wave of orders.

Sunlight filters through the leaves of the roadside trees, casting dappled, dancing light spots. Traffic flows slowly on the street, and people stroll leisurely on the sidewalk.

A languid atmosphere permeated the air, carrying the slight heat rising from the asphalt road and the faint aroma of food wafting from afar.

Across the street, a young couple was sharing an ice cream. The girl laughed and playfully dodged, while the boy chased after her clumsily, radiating youthful carefree joy.

On a nearby bench, an old man dozed off with his eyes closed, and a dog lay lazily at his feet.

Several young people who looked like students walked by carrying drawing boards, discussing composition and color with great enthusiasm.

Further away, soothing pop music played from the shop's speakers, and shop assistants leaned against the door frame, casually trying to attract customers.

Zhang Qiliang parked his electric scooter under the shade of a tree and temporarily turned off the order notification sound.

He took off his helmet, hung it on the handlebars, tilted his head back slightly, and felt the warm sunlight on his face.

After resting quietly for about fifteen minutes, Zhang Qiliang turned on the order notification sound again and put on his helmet.

As the clock ticked toward 11 a.m., the lunch rush officially began.

The notification tones began to sound frequently.

Zhang Qiliang rejoined the traffic, weaving between office buildings, business districts, and residential areas.

Pick up an exquisite and expensive business meal in an office building, and have it delivered to a greasy but affordable large portion of fried noodles next to a construction site; climb six or seven floors of an old residential building without an elevator, and walk through a high-end shopping mall to find an exquisite restaurant that takes half a day to find.

I've encountered irritable customers who are cursing and complaining about their orders, and I've also met elderly people who thoughtfully prepared bottled water for the delivery riders at the door. I've experienced restaurants serving food in a frustratingly slow manner, and I've also enjoyed smooth sailing with green lights all the way through.

After a period of efficient and silent busy work, time flew by, and soon it was around 2 p.m., when the afternoon rush hour gradually subsided.

The phone rang again.

Zhang Qiliang glanced at the new order: a famous online celebrity hand-pulled pancake shop, to be delivered to apartment 1203, building 12, in a mid-range residential community called "Yuejingwan".