[It's good, sound logic, even if contemplating it means following it through to the logical conclusion that the resort ranked Tseng higher of the two of them because they thought he would fuck more, or because the quality of his output was better. Not that he has any personal complaints as to the quality, he thinks, and stuffs a big chunk of potato into his mouth so that the abrupt heat on his tongue gives him an excuse not to dwell on that any longer.

It's reflecting on Tseng, though, that nags at him. Reinforcement and punishment. Does either one work, really, on his director of the Turks to begin with?]

You've kept track of your compensation?

[This is a considerably more awkward question when your ledger is synonymous with the number of people you've fucked, but.]

I assume you've been keeping records of the sum total of your. Activities.

[Shiva's tits.]

...Assuming you've got them handy.