Mark Carter sat in the waiting room of the Shelon Organization early in the morning, around 8 o'clock. He was preparing himself for a job interview he had signed up for, lured by the promise of a fortune. The organization was actively seeking unemployed individuals, and Mark saw this as a golden opportunity to secure a stable job.
Feeling nervous, he tapped his feet repeatedly on the ground, trying to calm himself. "I got this. No need to be tense," he muttered under his breath, attempting to steady his thoughts.
The room was filled with several other candidates, all waiting anxiously. Suddenly, a young lady entered, carrying a tray of badges. Her name tag read "Elizabeth." Her confident demeanor and striking appearance immediately captured the room's attention.
"Good morning," she said politely. "Please pick a badge at random and return to your seat."
One by one, the contenders stood and followed her instructions. When Mark's turn came, he reached for a badge and drew the number 149. As he glanced up to thank her, his gaze unintentionally lingered on her chest. Her slightly revealing outfit caught his attention, making him smile faintly.
Elizabeth noticed the smile and, confused, followed his gaze. Realizing what he had been staring at, she quickly adjusted her clothing, her cheeks turning a deep shade of red. Flustered, she looked away and continued with her task.
Once everyone had taken a badge, Elizabeth addressed the room. "The boss will be monitoring you all from hidden cameras. I'll come back to select those the boss chooses. I'll identify you by the number on your badge, so keep it visible."
She bowed politely and left, leaving Mark a bit perplexed by the unusual interview process. Still, he didn't care about the method—his mind was focused on the $6,000 monthly salary being offered. The thought alone reignited his determination to succeed.
About five minutes later, Elizabeth returned, and the contenders' hearts raced as she walked in. She called out, "Contender 346," and escorted the chosen individual out of the room.
Mark watched the process repeat itself. Elizabeth would return every few minutes, calling out another number, and leading the chosen candidate away. Each time she came and left, Mark's frustration grew. He couldn't understand why his number hadn't been called yet.
As time passed, more candidates were selected, and the room began to empty. Soon, Mark found himself alone, half-asleep in his chair. He snapped awake, realizing he was the last one remaining. "Since no one else is here, I'll be chosen for sure this time," he told himself, clinging to hope.
Minutes ticked by, but Elizabeth didn't return. Mark's patience began to wear thin. "What the hell is going on? She's taking her sweet time," he muttered, clenching his fists and gritting his teeth.
Just then, the door swung open, and a man walked in. "Sorry for being late. I got stuck in traffic. Is the job still open?" he asked casually. Looking around, he noticed Mark sitting alone. "Uh... where did everybody go?"
Mark, keeping his usual emotionless face, ignored the man and stared straight ahead. A minute later, Elizabeth finally returned. Mark's heart leaped as he stood up, feeling a surge of relief and excitement.
But instead of acknowledging him, Elizabeth glanced at the newcomer. She gave Mark a concerned look, then turned to the man and said, "Follow me, please."
The man nodded and left with her, leaving Mark standing there, speechless. He slowly sank back into his chair, confusion and disbelief washing over him. "I don't get it. Why me? What's going on?" he muttered to himself.
After some time, Elizabeth returned. She hesitated before speaking, her voice soft. "The boss won't be needing anyone else. I have to lock up now."
Mark wasn't surprised; he had expected as much. He stood up, emotionless, and said, "Yeah, sure. Thanks for wasting my time."
As he made his way to the exit, Elizabeth nervously played with her fingers, looking down. "Wait, please don't feel bad," she said hurriedly. "It's actually... a good thing."
Realizing what she had just blurted out, Elizabeth clapped her hands over her mouth, her face flushing red. Mark stopped in his tracks, confused. Before he could ask what she meant, she turned on her heel and ran off, muttering something about needing to lock up.
Mark shrugged it off, uninterested in figuring out her cryptic words. He walked out of the building, leaving Elizabeth behind.