Chapter 4: The Benefits Brought by Academic Qualifications

At the entrance of the headquarters of Tomokazu Trading Company, Yohei Ueno got out of the car, paid the taxi fare, and grumbled, “Seriously, can’t you even afford transportation anymore? Are you sure it’s okay that I don’t have to pay rent? As soon as you get the travel reimbursement, pay me back right away!”

Tao Zhiming, thick-skinned as ever, nodded enthusiastically, “Relax, don’t worry! I’m going to make a breakthrough today!”

“Huh? Isn’t that Tao Dairo? What’s with that ridiculous hairstyle?” a mocking voice rang out. “And Yohei, you’re here for Tomokazu’s orientation too?”

It was another young man in a suit, his face hovering between a smile and a sneer, his eyes full of mischief.

“Yokohisa Yamane!” Yohei Ueno’s expression changed. “You brat, didn’t you already sign a pledge with Mitsubishi?”

“Hey! Don’t go spreading rumors!” Yokohisa Yamane said, but his face showed no concern. “Tomokazu is a company worth looking forward to!”

He turned to Tao Zhiming. “So, Dairo, I’ve heard you haven’t landed a single job offer yet? How many times have you been rejected?”

Tao Zhiming eyed him with a furrowed brow.

Childish.

A classmate from university, one with an ostentatious personality.

Despite not being close, he insisted on using that condescending nickname.

“Honestly…” The guy kept chattering. “Maybe you shouldn’t tell anyone you’re a student at Todai. It’ll lower people’s impression of us. I heard from your classmates that during mock interviews, you could barely utter a word: ‘I…I…I…’ Typical of a weak descendant from Summerland—no matter how long you’ve lived in the land of the rising sun, you can’t shake that inferiority complex!”

Tao Zhiming’s pupils contracted, realizing why this guy didn’t like him.

An idiot clinging to an inexplicable sense of superiority.

“Yokohisa Yamane, you little punk!” Yohei Ueno protested.

Tao Zhiming raised a hand to stop him, smiling slightly. “Huh? Aren’t we all living in a defeated nation?”

Yokohisa Yamane’s face darkened. “Say that again?”

Tao Zhiming glanced at Yohei Ueno, who looked confused. “Isn’t it true? By the way, do I seem inferior right now?”

“No…” Yohei Ueno’s expression was complicated. “You seem very…‘brave’ right now…”

“And isn’t your kendo club always shouting things like, ‘Strive! Strive! Yamato number one!’ But the Americans are still number one. So why act cool in front of me? Is that the spirit of your kendo club?” Tao Zhiming turned again to Yohei Ueno.

Yokohisa Yamane stared him down, but Tao Zhiming was unafraid, grinning back.

“Very good!” Yokohisa Yamane nodded. “Admitting you’re weak is a kind of enlightenment. I’ll pass your words on to the kendo club.”

He flashed another mocking smile. “When school starts, we’ll have plenty of fun.”

With that, he strode off, heading inside Tomokazu Trading Company.

Yohei Ueno sighed helplessly. “You were impressive, but why say that to the whole kendo club? And…about the defeated nation thing…that hurt a bit!”

Tao Zhiming shrugged. “What’s there to fear? Isn’t this a good change for me?”

“...You’re almost too bold.” Yohei Ueno sighed. “Anyway, at least try to secure a job offer today. Otherwise, you’ll be ridiculed again.”

“Absolutely.” Tao Zhiming looked up at the Tomokazu Trading Company building, his eyes shining.

This was about how much money he could get today.

At that thought, Tao Zhiming felt a wave of emotion.

In his memory, interviews were usually tense affairs for job seekers, because demand far exceeded supply, and competition was fierce.

While individual company positions still drew many applicants, truly competitive talent was in short supply, fiercely sought after by major firms.

But at this moment in the land of the rising sun, the competition had become extravagant; companies were even offering generous incentives to those who passed interviews, hoping to secure their loyalty.

The reason behind this was the country’s rapid, continuous development, having become the world’s second-largest economy.

Faced with explosive market demand, the relatively small population and low university acceptance rate meant that the supply of elite talent had become a problem.

After financial liberalization last year, companies had greatly expanded their funding channels, their coffers swelling. With high confidence in future economic growth, the talent market saw this peculiar phenomenon.

Companies here often employed people for the long term, even for life, so the interview process was extremely rigorous. Once someone was screened and deemed essential for the company’s future, they would do everything to keep them—the employment pledge was born from this need.

With plenty of cash, companies not only reimbursed travel expenses for interviewees but also handed out cash incentives to those who received job offers, urging them to sign the employment pledge quickly.

Because formal labor contracts could only be signed after students received their graduation certificates, the so-called “talent battle” often started in the second semester of junior year.

By April, the start of senior year, the number of students with job offer commitments was more than twice the total number of graduates.

Why give money to those with job offers? To secure the employment pledge. The pledge had some binding force; a job offer was merely a unilateral statement of intent.

Even the employment pledge didn’t guarantee that a formal contract would be signed after graduation. So if someone was willing to sign it, companies often paid part of the salary or bonus in advance, sometimes even offering free housing and transport.

Of course, all this was based on the company truly believing you were “an indispensable talent for its future.”

Tao Zhiming, who had once graduated from a 211 university, had never enjoyed such perks.

Since these benefits existed and he was short of money, the simplest way was to start here.

Yohei Ueno and Yokohisa Yamane, for example, had already received multiple job offers but still came here—using their prestigious diplomas to collect more gift money.

It was almost a way of making a living.

Extravagant beyond belief.

Arriving at Tomokazu Trading Company’s entrance, many recruiters from the HR department—known as HR officers—were efficiently and warmly receiving guests.

The annual company tour and orientation was a major recruiting event, a significant day for the company.

Those invited to attend had generally already passed the initial screening.

For top students from Tokyo University, as long as they were willing to come, submitting a resume was enough to secure an invitation.

This kind of company tour, where selected students were invited for group interviews, always started with a company introduction in a large conference room.

Before the introduction began, people seated in the conference room, aware that others were competitors, couldn’t help trying to learn about one another.

Tao Zhiming already heard quiet exclamations next to Yokohisa Yamane.

“Wow, Tokyo University…”

“How many from the four national giants like Tokyo University are here?”

“It’s not even the top-tier companies…”

“Shh—keep it down, you can’t say that.”

“…”

Yokohisa Yamane was no longer the brash figure he’d been outside; now he sat quietly, almost humbly, but clearly with a smug satisfaction.

A little brat—besides coming to get money, he wanted to bask in some superiority.

And it seemed a few girls were eyeing him, hoping to get acquainted.

Tao Zhiming glanced at Yohei Ueno beside him, who looked a bit envious, and teased, “You could try it too.”

Yohei Ueno sat upright. “Ahem… I’m not that shallow!”

Tao Zhiming smiled at him.

Probably, both he and Dairo were timid around strangers—especially women—which was why they became good friends.

Once familiar, though, they were both loudmouths, endlessly chatty.

After a while, the HR manager of Tomokazu Trading Company finally entered the conference room, and the room quieted down.

Tao Zhiming perked up—time for business!

For the gift money!

Oh, Dairo, you left too early, never got to enjoy the privileges of your identity.

But if not for Tao Zhiming, Dairo’s interview skills would have remained poor.

Now, though…interviews—I’m an old hand at this!