After glancing around at his surroundings and confirming that this was a hotel, he felt a bit more at ease. He rushed to take a shower, changed his clothes, and then gave a hard slap on the butt of the woman who had seemed pretty wild last night to wake her up. Still groggy, she wrapped her arms around him and cooed, “Didn’t get enough last night? Want to go again?” She was quite satisfied with this man—not only was he skilled, but he had easily taken down several others last night just to win her over. Even in bed, his prowess was impressive.

Henry Walker brushed her hand away, his expression calm as he handed over a wad of cash. “I have something to take care of, so I’m leaving first. The room was booked with your ID last night. Take this money and settle the bill later.”

With that, he ignored the woman’s cursing behind him—her shouting that she wasn’t that kind of woman, asking what he took her for, or insisting on getting his phone number.

He walked out of the hotel without looking back. Checking his watch, it was already past eight twenty. The clothes he was wearing looked a bit shabby, reeking of a mix of smoke, alcohol, and perfume, with a lingering sour stench from the night before—even Henry Walker himself found it unpleasant. But at this hour, most big malls weren’t open yet. Going back to his own hotel to change would take at least half an hour. The interview he had scheduled was at eight thirty.

Forget it, he’d just make do. Henry Walker hailed a cab and headed to the agreed location. After all, Old Moore had already arranged everything; the so-called interview was just a formality. Hungover and drained from last night’s indulgence, Henry Walker slouched lazily in the back seat, half-listening to the driver’s endless chatter, occasionally mumbling a response or two—looking every bit the image of a decadent, hungover man.

……

Feifei Owen sat upright in a CEO’s office that was decorated in a simple, elegant style—unremarkable at first glance, but exuding understated luxury in every detail. Her expression was calm as she worked through some documents. Her demeanor was meticulous; even the most ordinary file would be carefully scrutinized before she raised sharp, incisive questions that cut straight to the heart of the matter.

This left the middle-aged, slightly overweight, and balding director of internal affairs, David Turner, sweating profusely as he nervously dabbed at his forehead with a handkerchief, answering Feifei Owen’s pointed and caustic questions with trepidation. At the same time, he felt a deep sense of despair—where on earth had the big boss found such a domineering and sharp-tongued woman to serve as CEO? In just three months since her arrival, she had already fired three department heads, sixteen middle managers, over sixty employees, and more than half the security team.

When Feifei Owen first arrived, the male employees of the company had been overjoyed, celebrating her arrival. After all, Feifei Owen was not only stunningly beautiful with a great figure, but also held a master’s degree from Stanford University in the US—and most importantly, she was single. In today’s world, women were usually either highly educated but plain-looking, or beautiful but brainless; a single woman who was both gorgeous and intelligent was a rare luxury.

To get into this renowned large corporation, one had to be an elite—many employees were graduates of prestigious schools, with impressive résumés and wealth. And as so-called elites, their tastes were naturally discerning. Yet even the most fastidious male elites had to admit that Feifei Owen was an exceptionally perfect woman.

However, they quickly experienced Feifei Owen’s domineering ruthlessness: a brief conversation, collect your pay, and you’re out. She was so efficient and decisive that people were convinced she must have been a professional hatchet woman in her previous job. She was merciless and unflinching, completely unmoved by any pleas or tears.

That stunningly beautiful face always looked as if everyone owed her millions, sending chills down people’s spines. The female colleagues who had suffered under her “reign of terror” gritted their teeth and secretly spread rumors that Feifei Owen must have had her man stolen and been abandoned, leaving her psychologically twisted. On the other hand, quite a few male colleagues, though shocked by her, seemed ready to fall at her feet and shout “Long live the queen!”

But regardless of who they were, after just three months, no one dared show even a hint of slackness or disrespect toward Feifei Owen, working diligently and conscientiously, terrified that the executioner’s blade would fall on them next. Few were willing to give up such a well-paid, respectable job. As a result, the company’s work and operations atmosphere had greatly improved, sweeping away the slack and complacency left by the previous CEO.

“Director Turner.” Suddenly, Feifei Owen’s furrowed brow relaxed a little as she looked at the document.

David Turner jolted, quickly straightening up, looking the picture of humble attentiveness, almost blurting out, “Your humble servant is here.”

“Your recent work has been quite good. I hope you’ll keep it up and continue to improve.” Even when giving praise, Feifei Owen’s face remained as cold as ice, her slender fingers gently closing the folder.