When Barry arrived at the company, he noticed the situation was unusual.
Two long lines stretched out at the main entrance. One was made up of uniquely dressed young people, mostly large, heavy-set men. The other line was filled with fashionable, stunning young women—beautiful, well-built, and dressed rather revealingly. Bare long legs, slender waists, firm hips, deep cleavage—all the essential parts were on full display.
Barry stared for a few moments and nearly got a nosebleed.
What is going on?
Why are there so many beautiful women at the company? Is there an event?
With a confused mind, Barry found Philip Arthur, the HR manager. After signing the contract, Arthur directed him to the technical department office.
The office environment was completely different from what Barry had imagined.
It was messy, confusingly so. Dozens of computer desks were scattered haphazardly. Each desk was piled high with various items: figurines, adult magazines, glamour posters, snacks, speakers, and so on.
In one corner, there were two arcade machines, with a few young men gathered around them, punctuated by shouts of "F***!" and "Sh*t!"
Barry Allen's head was spinning. He seriously wondered if he had come to the wrong place.
Zachs Berger walked over and asked,
"Barry Allen?"
Barry nodded and replied, "You are?"
"Zachs Berger, Technical Department Supervisor."
Barry quickly extended both hands. "H-hello! I'm Barry Allen. It's my first day of work. Please look out for me."
Zachs waved his hand, chuckling. "Don't be nervous. The atmosphere at ShowMe is very relaxed. There aren't many restrictions. Of course, there are a few things to keep in mind, the two most important being: maintaining creativity and ensuring work readiness."
Zachs spoke as he walked, with Barry following behind him, the perfect picture of a novice.
"ShowMe's data framework is very well-designed, so we don't have many bugs or security flaws in its daily operation. The people in the tech department are all experts, so routine maintenance is handled quickly."
"Because of this, about two hours of the eight-hour workday are free. During this time, you can do anything—listen to music, play games, or watch movies. The Boss never cares about that."
Hearing this, Barry understood. No wonder those guys were playing games during work hours; it was their downtime.
Zachs continued, "Of course, personally, I suggest you use that time to think about ShowMe's future plans. If you come up with a good new idea, congratulations—you're rich. The Boss is never stingy with bonuses."
"The other thing is version updates. Every now and then, ShowMe releases a new version. The days leading up to the launch are the busiest. We're severely understaffed, so there might be all-nighters. You need to be prepared for that."
Barry nodded solemnly and followed Zachs to his desk.
The chubby guy next to him greeted him warmly.
"You must be Barry Allen, the only one who broke through the firewall."
Barry gave an awkward smile but didn't speak.
"I'm Mike Sen. Just call me Mike. Hey, man, got some time? Let's have a match."
Barry frowned. "A match?"
"Don't misunderstand, it's a technical match, not a fight. This is the Boss's rule: new members must be 'greeted' by seniors to prove they have the ability to make it at ShowMe."
Barry thought for a few seconds and replied,
"I'm fine with that. I can compete anytime!"
Coming into a new environment meant facing a challenge. Barry Allen didn't like fighting or arguing, but that didn't mean he lacked a competitive spirit.
The two started a game of cracking a black-box system.
A few minutes later, Barry Allen won, as expected. Although his technical knowledge was still a bit lacking, his insight, hand speed, and reaction time were dozens, if not hundreds, of times better than the average person. Victory was a given.
Mike gave him a thumbs-up.
"Seriously impressive. You're definitely the genius hacker who got the Boss involved."
Barry was stunned. He asked in disbelief,
"The person who defeated me yesterday was the Boss?"
"You didn't know?"
Barry stared blankly ahead, his eyes wide.
Seeing his expression, Mike immediately understood. He patted him on the shoulder and said with the air of a veteran:
"Don't feel bad about being inferior to the Boss. You'll get used to it. We're all geniuses, but fundamentally, we're human. The Boss is different. He's transcended the category of organic life and evolved into an intelligent machine from a two-dimensional world. To sum it up: He's a humanoid CPU walking around in the human world. There's no problem he can't solve."
Barry gulped. "He's that powerful?"
"You'll understand later. Just remember: don't try to be clever around the Boss. If you want something, ask directly. If you want to do something, just do it. As long as you give a good reason, he won't say no."
"Got it. Thanks for the heads-up."
Barry nodded gratefully, then asked, "By the way, when I arrived, I saw a lot of girls at the entrance. What are they doing?"
Mike raised an eyebrow and teased him with a knowing male tone.
"See someone you like? Is it the brunette in the ultra-short skirt? I have some private photos of her. Want to see?"
Barry blushed, waving his hands vigorously.
"No, I was just curious why they were lining up there."
"They're all applying for the Presidential Assistant position."
Mike curled his lip, exasperated. "$250,000 annual salary, and the Boss is a young, promising, high-IQ rich heir. What girl wouldn't want that job?"
"But the job requirements asked for a left punch of 500 pounds and a right punch of 600 pounds. Those girls probably can't meet that, can they?"
"Exactly! So, the people you see are the third batch. The first two batches have already been sent home."
Barry: "..."
Mike leaned in mysteriously.
"Want to go watch the beautiful girls being interviewed?"
Barry hesitated. "Can we?"
"Of course. The Boss doesn't care about these little things."
Mike led Barry to a viewing window overlooking the recruitment office. He squeezed out a space among the crowd of single men, and they watched curiously.
The Candidate
Inside the spacious room, Charlie, who was in charge of recruiting, sat at a desk, facing a continuous stream of stunning young women.
Even beautiful women can cause visual fatigue, Charlie thought, experiencing it firsthand.
He couldn't understand Luke's mindset, nor could he understand the girls'. The recruitment notice was perfectly clear: a left punch of 500 pounds and a right punch of 600 pounds. If you couldn't do it, stop showing up.
Yet, the girls persisted.
For the $250,000 annual salary, they threw caution to the wind, posing provocatively and dropping obvious hints. Some even invited him to chat in the restroom.
Pah!
Am I, Charlie, the kind of man who forgets friendship for beauty?If the circumstances were different, I'd show you!
The entire morning of recruiting failed to find a single suitable candidate and only left him stressed and frustrated. If this kept up, he would explode.
Just then, a blonde, blue-eyed girl walked in. She didn't introduce herself like the others. Instead, she walked straight to the boxing machine, and threw a right punch.
BANG!
1,000 POUNDS!
She threw a left punch.
BANG!
1,250 POUNDS!
WHOOSH!
Everyone's eyes widened. A heavy silence fell over the room.
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