On the other side of the mirror was a dimly lit room. To ensure the effectiveness of the one-way mirror, this side had to stay dark—otherwise, the people being watched would notice.
Inside the room, several people were fiddling with some very professional camera equipment—long lenses and short ones everywhere. At a console, a woman spoke into a microphone: "Applicants, please follow the rules. Now, turn to your right and stand still."
Just then, the door opened and the gloomy young man's assistant walked in. He was a young, chubby guy, but his bulk couldn't hide his sharp, capable aura. The others immediately greeted him, clearly showing he held some status in this group.
"Brother Bo, you're here."
"Mm, how's it going? Did you get all the images?" Bobby Brooks looked over at Jill Young on the other side of the mirror, then patted the woman at the console on the shoulder and chuckled, "Is this what you ladies always do in front of a mirror? Gotta check yourself out from every angle for half a day?"
A photographer snarked, "Brother Bo, that lady's a real looker—her preening at least gets her called pretty. But if that girl with glasses goes up, all she'll get is called plain!"
The girl at the console with glasses nearly popped a vein, but clearly she wasn't the confrontational type, so she held it in and vented her frustration through the mic: "Applicant, please cooperate so we can get the images!"
Just like guys hate the cool dude, girls hate the goddess too.
But Jill Young on the other side wasn't the type to just take it lying down—she'd already come in with an attitude, so why would she play nice? Jill glanced left and right, then stared straight at them. Even though the mirror should've kept her from seeing anything, everyone in the room suddenly felt like they'd been seen right through.
"Crap, we can't let her smash the glass—get the test subject in there, quick!" Bobby Brooks ordered immediately.
"Don't worry, Brother Bo, he's already here." The photographer licked his lips, eyes gleaming with fanaticism. "Wolf Maddox—the most ruthless tester we've got."
"What?" Bobby Brooks spun around, stunned. "Why would you send in Wolf Maddox? That guy's vicious and sneaky, always going for cheap shots—what kind of test is that supposed to be? Switch him out, now!"
"No, it's too late." On the other side of the glass, Wolf Maddox suddenly leapt up and smashed his fist toward Jill Young's head. The attack came out of nowhere—Bobby Brooks shouted, "Stop him!" but no one had time to react.
But in the next instant, things went completely off-script for Bobby Brooks.
Jill Young suddenly ducked, dodging the blow to the back of her head, and at the same moment, lifted her left foot for a swift kick backwards!
Bang! The kick landed squarely on Wolf Maddox's chest, echoing like a drum. The force was so great that Wolf Maddox spat out blood, his eyes bulging, and flew five meters before crashing to the ground, unable to get up.
"Oh? So this is your so-called interview?" Jill Young rolled her shoulders and flexed her wrists, closing in on the fallen Wolf Maddox with a grin that made him shiver. "I like this style—nice and straightforward."
She grabbed Wolf Maddox by the collar with her left hand and punched him with her right—blow after blow, Jill hammered away. "So, is this—kind—of—answer—good—enough—for—you?"
Inside the booth, the three of them stared at each other. Watching Wolf Maddox scream and bleed, the girl with glasses asked in a daze, "Brother Bo, which one are we supposed to stop?"
Bobby Brooks shoved the girl with glasses aside and lunged for the mic, ready to speak—when suddenly, a hand reached out and covered the microphone. He turned to see the gloomy young man.