The tall guy was still there, clutching his leg, wailing like a ghost. Edward Clark walked over, yanked out the knife, and stabbed it in again. “If you scream one more time, I’ll stab you again!”

The tall guy was like someone with his throat squeezed shut; his cries stopped abruptly. Watching the blood gushing from his leg, he couldn’t hold back anymore. “Sir, whatever you want me to do, just say it. I only beg you to let me stop the bleeding first!”

Edward Clark pulled out the knife, not to stop the bleeding, but to let more blood out. He casually stabbed again, as if he were poking at a radish or a melon. “Do you think you’re in any position to bargain with me?”

The tall guy was about to scream from the pain, but suddenly remembered what Edward Clark had said. He didn’t dare cover his wound, only his mouth, staring at Edward Clark in terror, the plea in his eyes obvious without words.

“Who told you to do this?” Edward Clark finally asked his question, simple and direct.

The tall guy barely hesitated. “Bai Bo Pi from the east side of the city!”

Section Four: Job Application

“Name?”

“Edward Clark.”

“Gender?” A beautiful woman held a job application form, frowning slightly. The form was a photocopy, just a thin sheet of paper, with very basic information, and what was filled in was even simpler—most of it was blank. Clearly, the owner of this application was lazy and stingy with words.

Edward Clark couldn’t help but look himself up and down. “I suppose I’m male?”

The woman glared at Edward Clark, but even that look was incredibly charming. “I ask, you answer. Don’t talk nonsense. A salesperson needs to be articulate, but being articulate doesn’t mean just playing with words, understand?”

“Eggs are salted.” Edward Clark replied, sounding exactly like English learned in the suburbs of London.

The woman was stunned for a moment, a bit interested. “You speak English?”

“A little.” Edward Clark tried hard to sell himself, thought for a moment, felt uncertain, and added calmly, “But it’s all self-taught.”

“So you’re self-taught and made it!” The woman’s lips curled in a slightly mocking tone. “Then please introduce yourself in English.”

She put down the paper and looked at Edward Clark seriously, speaking very politely. She and Julia Cooper were completely different types. Her brows were like spring mountains, her skin fair, short hair, very capable. No doubt, both could be considered strong women, but Julia Cooper was more of a delicate beauty, while this woman was a true lady from a prominent family. In terms of career, this woman was undoubtedly more successful. Her name was Olivia Foster, and she was also the general manager of the small company where Edward Clark was applying.

This small company sold a simple product. Since it had just started, it had only developed one product so far—an infrared light sensor, mainly used for access control. It was similar to what Edward Clark’s previous company sold, but clearly of much lower quality. If others knew he had left a strong company to join this unknown small firm, they’d definitely say Edward Clark was out of his mind, a fool. But that wasn’t surprising; many had already proven that Edward Clark indeed had a talent for being out of his mind.

But Edward Clark had his reasons for coming here. It wasn’t because the company was new and full of potential, nor was it because the woman was beautiful and he wanted to flirt. The main reason was that, holding a few job applications, he’d been pushed around by the job-hunting crowd and just wanted to find a place to sit and rest. Just then, someone next to him stood up looking dejected, and he happily took the seat, putting his papers on the table—right next to Olivia Foster’s left hand.

Olivia Foster reached out to pick up a resume. The company’s requirements weren’t strict, but the pay was low: a base salary of five hundred, plus sales commission, with no food or lodging provided. Five hundred was really low; in S City, it was just enough to rent a studio apartment, and that didn’t include utilities. Because of this, many fresh graduates didn’t even bother applying. Compared to other companies’ recruitment sites, this place was rather deserted. Olivia Foster wasn’t in a hurry. She was personally recruiting because she wanted to find an assistant who could help her, someone who understood what it meant to burn one’s bridges, someone who knew how to fight—that was the basic survival skill for a salesperson!

Her slender, fair hand reached out just as Edward Clark put down his stack of papers, which meant Edward Clark had placed his resume right into Olivia Foster’s hand. Olivia Foster raised an eyebrow, glancing sideways at Edward Clark. Her first impression score: forty out of a possible one hundred and twenty.

A shirt washed so much it was yellowing, the collar limp and loose—fail. A tie knotted around his neck like a noose—useless. Looking at himself, hesitating, wanting to hand over his resume but not daring to, even trying to pull it back. Good grief, someone like this is applying for a sales job? He probably can’t even sell himself. Olivia Foster sighed inwardly. Why are the qualifications of job applicants getting lower and lower?