CHAPTER 228: GETTING THEIR ASS FIRED WITHOUT LOOKING BACK

Chapter 228- Getting Their Ass Fired Without Looking Back

LOGAN’S POV

The moment I heard that voice behind me, I already knew who it was. I didn’t even need to turn.

I sighed and muttered under my breath, "Party spoiler."

Because of course. Of course she would show up now. Right when I had finally made up my mind to destroy everything and give those useless servers the punishment they deserved. Now she just had to ruin it.

Slowly, I turned my head to the side and—yep, just as I expected—it was the principal.

She stood at the entrance of the kitchen with her hands crossed like some disappointed parent who caught their kid with a stolen cookie.

"Logan, what are you doing?" she asked in that fake-soft voice like she couldn’t see the plates I had already knocked over and the fact that I was holding a pot like I was about to turn it into a weapon.

I stared at her, one brow raised. "What does it look like I’m doing?" I said, not hiding my annoyance. I was not in the mood for dumb questions.

She blinked and gave me that tired look.

"I know what you’re doing," she said slowly. "I’m just surprised you’d actually do it."

Oh please. Spare me the disappointment act. Like I was supposed to sit and starve while they served every other person and left me with nothing.

I turned to her, clenching my jaw. I was trying—really trying—not to explode again.

"Then maybe you should ask those bastards over there with empty plates," I pointed to the servers still standing there, watching us like they were innocent.

"Ask them why the hell I’m angry. Ask them why dinner finished barely thirty damn minutes after it started."

I swallowed the heat rising in my chest. "Maybe they’ll give you the answer I’m too pissed to repeat again."

"Please manners. You can’t be disrespectful to us. We are your servers and we deserve some respect." One of them said and honestly I felt like using the pot I was holding to shut the coward up.

"Shut your bitch ass up or I would do you something that would make you shut up forever." I warned him.

The principal looked at me for a few seconds, like she was checking to see if I was lying or just exaggerating.

Then her eyes widened a little.

"Are you... serious?" she asked in a soft tone, like she was hoping I’d say no and this whole thing would disappear.

I glared at her, my voice flat.

"I’ve never been this serious in my life."

She nodded slowly and finally turned to the kitchen staff.

Her voice changed. It became cold and filled with anger.

"Is my student telling the truth?" she asked. "That the meal finished within thirty minutes of serving?"

And just like the disrespectful idiots they were, instead of owning up or apologizing... they smirked.

One of them even had the guts to raise his head proudly like he just won an award.

"Maybe," the one I assumed was the kitchen manager began, "you should tell your students not to eat like they’re being chased by dragons. If they’d eaten moderately, there would have been enough food."

My heart skipped a beat.

What the actual fuck did he just say?

I didn’t even think before I stepped forward. My voice thundered through the room like a damn storm.

"Wash your mouth before I help you wash it myself!" I growled, every word coming out deadly.

My left fist is clenched so tight my knuckles turned white. My eyes? Probably glowing with how pissed off I was. If not for the principal standing right there, I swear I would have dragged that man across the kitchen floor.

Because the rage in me wasn’t just from this moment—it was the hunger. The disrespect. The buildup of everything, and now this asshole dared to act like we were the problem.

The principal quickly stepped closer and placed a hand on my shoulder. Her palm was warm, and she rubbed it slowly trying to calm me down.

"Let me handle it, Logan. Please." she whispered.

I didn’t respond immediately. My breathing was rough.

But I closed my eyes and nodded.

She was lucky I respected her. Anyone else, I wouldn’t have stopped.

She turned around, her face now deadly serious as she faced the kitchen staff.

"You’re not even ashamed," she started, her voice rising. "Not only did you run out of food, but instead of apologizing or explaining, you have the nerve to blame my students for eating too much?"

She took another step forward.

"The least you could have done was say sorry—even if it didn’t fix anything. But no. You chose to be rude. You chose to insult me. You chose to insult my students."

"Do you even remember how much I spent on this trip? How much I paid so that all my students would be properly fed and taken care of?"

She crossed her arms, her expression cold now.

"It seems you’ve forgotten. So let me refresh your memory."

I stood there, arms folded across my chest, watching the principal.

"I spent over two hundred thousand dollars just for this trip."

Her voice cut through the kitchen like a blade.

"Do you even understand what that means?" she asked, her tone sharp. "That’s not even counting transportation or housing or anything else. That’s just the payment I made to this school to make sure my students were treated like actual human beings—with dignity, with care, with respect."

The kitchen was dead silent. Not one person moved. Not one dared to even blink too loud.

She continued, her voice rising, hands waving now with frustration.

"Do you people even know how much each of these kids paid?"

She didn’t wait for a reply.

"Thousands. Thousands of dollars. And this is what you give them? You let the food finish thirty minutes into dinner like it’s some village festival?"

I caught one of the cooks shifting uncomfortably. Good. He should be sweating.

"And then," she said, her voice suddenly quiet, "a cook—a mere cook—has the guts to tell my student that there’s no food left. That he should come back tomorrow. Tomorrow."

"He should come back tomorrow without caring how he else going to sleep this night without eating?."

"You mean to tell me that after I paid over two hundred and fifty thousand dollars for a one-week trip, you couldn’t even provide enough food to last the night?"

She was no longer just angry. She was offended. And honestly, I loved watching it.

"Answer me!" she snapped. "Where are your mouths now? Earlier, you could talk. Now, nothing?"

They just stared unable to say a word.

"Why am I even wasting my time talking to you people?" she scoffed, shaking her head. "You’re not worth the spit on my shoes."

She reached into her bag, pulled out her phone, and started dialing.

"I’ll just call the main manager. The real one. Let’s see who actually has the power here."

Her phone was already ringing. She lifted it to her ear and gave them all a cold smile.

"It’s ringing," she said loudly, making sure they heard it. "Get ready."

One of the cooks, the idiot who called the students gluttons earlier, finally found his voice.

"Ma’am, it hasn’t gotten to that stage yet—"

Before the principal could even blink, I stepped forward and cut him off.

"As a matter of fact, it hasn’t just gotten to that stage—" I growled, "—it has passed that stage. It burned through that stage and kept going. So shut your damn mouth."

He froze. The color drained from his face. I watched the sweat form on his forehead. He looked like someone just unplugged his soul.

"W-we’re sorry," he stammered. "We’re truly sorry. Please—don’t make the call."

But neither of us was moved. I crossed my arms again and stared him down like I was ready to pounce.

"Please, ma’am," another cook added, almost begging. "Just end the call. Please. We promise—we’ll cook more food. We’ll make sure every student gets served. We’ll even start now. Please."

"Oh?" I raised an eyebrow. "So now suddenly there’s food to cook? What happened to ’it’s finished’? And weren’t you just calling us gluttons five minutes ago?"

No answer. Of course not.

The principal wasn’t even looking at them anymore. She was focused on the phone.

"I don’t have time to waste on people who don’t know how to do their jobs." Her voice was calm again. "This is why we pay for management—to deal with nonsense like this."

The phone clicked, and someone picked up.

"Hello," she said smoothly, putting it on speaker.

A deep male voice answered. "Principal? Wow. What a surprise. What’s the big occasion that made you grace my phone today?"

The principal smiled tightly.

"Oh, nothing much," she said coolly. "Just a little problem I need your help with."

"Anything for you," the voice replied. "Say the word."

"Thank you. I really appreciate that."

She glanced once more at the frozen faces of the kitchen staff.

"I want you to fire every single cook currently working in the cafeteria. Right now. And get me new ones before morning."