"The owner?"
Luke's eyebrows lifted.
So everyone had been right — it really was the owner.
"Yes, but this is an unexpected visit," Alicia said, lowering her voice. "According to what I have heard, she never comes here unless it's for something really important. Something must be going on…"
Luke realized he knew next to nothing about the owner — not even that she was a woman.
Back when he worked at Delights Superstore, Mr. Hargraves always referred to Big Treats' owner as that thief. He never explained why, only that he was locked in some one-sided rivalry with her. According to him, Big Treats was the reason his superstore never got the recognition it "deserved," and his employees usually took the brunt of his frustration.
Luke frowned. "What would the owner even want with a job application? Shouldn't she have managers or assistant managers to handle this kind of thing?" He gestured toward the staff already working through the crowd. "I mean, they were already doing it — why not let them finish?"
Alicia sighed. "She's probably going to send everyone home. She's known for being extremely strict with her employees. After all, she built Big Treats from scratch and turned it into a global sensation. She doesn't tolerate anything less than perfect."
"Great," Luke muttered.
"She'll probably disqualify people just for how they look," Alicia added. "Not like the chances were great to begin with… but now they just got a whole lot worse."
Big Treats in Slum City was only one of her branches. She had branches everywhere — and it didn't hurt that her husband was the CEO of a multimillion-dollar company.
"So your typical rich family with a boss-lady, huh?" Luke scoffed.
At that moment, Madam Helen was escorted inside Big Treats. The official who had spoken over the microphone earlier hurried after her. Moments later, he returned, grabbed the microphone again, and his voice boomed through the building.
"This job application process will now be handled by the owner herself. Please arrange yourselves accordingly."
Everyone was now on the edge of their seats, arranging their ties and tucking in their clothes.
Even those who had been prepared from the start were suddenly trying to look even more presentable as they sat and waited for their numbers to be called.
Number Seven was waiting anxiously—it was supposed to be his turn. But the next thing they heard shocked everyone.
"Number Fifty, come in."
Sweat instantly engulfed the face of the man with that number. He was not ready. His clothes weren't even fully buttoned.
He had assumed there would be plenty of time to prepare, so he relaxed, planning to get dressed properly once they were ten numbers away from calling him.
Many of the candidates with higher numbers had done the same thing. Some had even gone to eat, certain that it would be a long while before their turn came.
When they heard what just happened, those who had gone to rest or grab food sprinted back to the arena in panic.
Everyone was stunned. The numbers had been called in order from the start, but now the owner had suddenly switched everything up. No one could predict when their turn would come.
"Oh no, this is bad. Now we won't even know when to expect it," Alicia said, panic rising in her voice.
Luke simply folded his arms and remained seated, calm and composed.
There was a sudden hum in his pocket—it was the coin.
It pulsed again, as if telling him to ready himself.
The person with Number Fifty, who had entered less than thirty seconds earlier, came out crying. Apparently, they didn't even let him into the application room.
Madam Helen had taken one look at him and immediately disqualified him.
Apparently she did not ask his name. She didn't ask a single question. His appearance alone had sealed his fate.
Tension rose to a breaking point. A few people couldn't handle the pressure—about six of them ran out, unable to stay any longer.
Now prepared, the remaining people sat. Some stood out of restlessness. Alicia could not help but cling to Luke, her hands interlocked his as if they were and conjoined twins.
"What are the odds that it will be one of us that gets the job…" she asked Luke.
"Let's leave it to fate," he replied, looking more comfortable than the remaining applicants.
I am definitely getting this opportunity, otherwise what was the point of it all, Luke thought to himself.
It's all connected, the coin… I feel it. I'm getting this… he muttered to himself.
Then came another calling.
"Number 189…"
It was Luke's number.
He stood up almost immediately, but he did not run like most of the previous applicants.
He strutted into the application hallway, walking past some officials and a few security guards.
Does having a lot of money really warrant all these guards? Luke asked himself.
He got to the door and knocked twice.
"Come in, please…"
A soft, smooth voice urged him inside.
Who would have thought this calm voice would have such a commanding presence, Luke thought to himself as he opened the door.
The air shifted; suddenly there was a chill. Luke's eyes lifted.
And there she sat, wearing a red dress, with silky dark hair, holding a pen and a piecepaper—possibly what she used to judge.
She was older, but he could not be sure of her exact age. Although she was older, she had that young, beautiful look to her.
She faced down putting the paper aside, writing in what seemed to be a journal.
With gold earrings and that expensive dress, the pressure further increased.
"Good morning, ma'am…" he greeted.
She raised her head to answer him, and that was when he saw—she was a beauty. She had obviously aged like fine wine.
He especially noticed her figure; but not just her figure,most especially her breasts, the sheer size of them almost made Luke forget why he was there. For a brief second, he imagined himself reaching out.
Could he?
Probably not, he thought.
Then he met her eyes. They were completely fixed on him.