The fire departnt had created and uploaded several videos for firefighter applicants. One of these videos compared good and bad examples in preparation for the interview...
"You an, he said it exactly the sa?"
"Yeah."
Nodding, the chief watched Wilkins respond with a bewildered laugh.
"He's really got no sense, huh? Must be the rich kid in him, thinking no one would copy that exactly."
"Right."
The chief agreed, but what he really wanted to say followed right after.
"But what I'm saying is, he copied it exactly — every gesture, even the finger movents, the way he looked around during pauses, everything! He did it just like in the video!"
Wilkins was left in stunned silence. People often morize answers after watching videos, but copying gestures too?
"But surely, there were questions that weren’t in the video, right? You did ask so, didn’t you?"
"Of course. But even those, he must have seen them in so other video and copied them. I haven’t checked, but I’m sure of it."
Wilkins remained speechless as the chief harshly pressed on.
"Do you get it now? That guy’s a psychopath. So just leave him alone before you cause any trouble, don’t touch him! You don’t know what he’ll do. Grayson Miller’s a crazy extre alpha because of those pheromones — he’s not even in his right mind!"
Wilkins could only mutter, "Understood." A rush of regret filled him as he realized he might have done sothing pointless.
"To today's winner, a toast!"
At Valentina's shout, the won gathered around cheered, raising their beer glasses. Grayson, the only man sitting among them, smiled as they all clinked their glasses and emptied them.
"In the end, we end up here."
At Rivet’s comnt, another employee replied.
"The familiar places are the best. And this is probably the most suitable for a group like ours."
There were only a few places that could hold this many people. That's why they always ended up coming to this bar for gatherings or work parties. It was the sa place where they had held a welco party for Grayson.
"Well, the n could join too, no need to be shy."
Valentina casually tossed a French fry in her mouth, glancing over °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° her shoulder. Imdiately, all the eyes around her turned in the sa direction. The two large tables were set up side by side, with the employees divided into two groups. To be precise, Grayson and the female employees sat together, while Wilkins and the male employees sat together. The mood at each table was as contrasting as their gender ratio.
In response to the clearly audible comnt, Diandre barked roughly.
"Mind your business. We’re not like you guys, trying to get sothing out of that guy."
"We’ve decided to drink among ourselves. Thanks, but no thanks."
Wilkins quickly intervened, politely declining. The warning from the chief still rang clearly in his ears. For a brief mont, Wilkins imagined a fight breaking out between the two tables, followed by an angry Grayson flipping the table and, with a smile, cracking Diandre’s skull with a bottle. The chief’s words about how Grayson himself was the real problem rang true.
Clearing his throat and pretending to drink his beer, Wilkins looked away. The won, however, ignored him and quickly surrounded Grayson. They didn’t even care about their male colleagues' bruised egos. Lately, the n’s behavior had looked pathetic. As they listened to the laughter and chatter from the won’s table, the n silently drank their beer.
If you are reading this translation anywhere other than Novelight or SilkRoadTL, it has been stolen.
Had they gone to a different place, it wouldn’t have been this miserable. They had gotten fired up when Grayson said he was buying drinks, but it had been a mistake to ignore the fact that there was nowhere else to go. Sitting next to a lively table like that made it impossible to feel any excitent.
"Hey, did we co to a funeral? Why’s everyone so down?"
Unable to take it anymore, Diandre shouted softly, and Ezra answered him.
"Well... there’s nothing really to be happy about, right?"
At the looks of agreent from the others, Diandre exploded, glaring at them.
"Then why are you all so visibly sulking? Look over there, we can’t lose to them! Everyone, smile, I said smile!"
The colleagues, glancing at each other, let out awkward laughs.
"Haha, hahahaha! Hahahaha!"
"Ah... haha, hahaha."
"Haha, haha, hahahaha."
The others followed along, laughing and mimicking Diandre. anwhile, they all glanced over at the won’s table, but the won had no interest in them. Trying to raise your voice just to get a girl's attention is sothing only elentary school kids do.
"Enough, it’s starting to look pathetic."
At Ezra’s words, everyone, including Diandre, fell silent. How did it co to this? Once again, they sat in the gloomy atmosphere, drinking their beer. Wilkins, having emptied his glass, set it down and suddenly spoke up.
"Losing in the match, sure, that happens. But there’s sothing I just can’t accept."
At his sudden remark, everyone turned to look at him. Wilkins fixed his gaze on Dane and asked.
"Seriously, what happened? Sure, you were late, but it couldn’t just be that, right? Sothing had to have happened, don’t you think? Am I wrong?"
"That’s right. Dane, we’re dying to know. How did that guy beat you?"
Diandre, speaking rapidly, asked. With a mix of curiosity and anxiety, all eyes were on Dane, who casually replied.
"Nothing much. Just a few hits back and forth."
"You fought? Why?"
"Out of the blue?"
Everyone was shocked and asked why, but Dane didn’t answer. Diandre was the only one who nervously drank his beer. Dane, not even glancing his way, continued.
"I just wanted to hit him."
What kind of answer was that? They all exchanged confused looks, but it didn’t seem entirely out of place. Even Ezra nodded in agreent.
"Yeah, I get it. I also have to hold back every mont from throwing a punch."
"Just like right now, huh?"
One person chid in, and the confessions started pouring out.
"I even thought about dragging him to the warehouse and locking him up a couple of tis."
"I was thinking about puncturing the tires on that fancy Jaguar of his."
"Honestly, I’d have no regrets if I just hit that smug face once."
"Not really, though. We should use wishes for more important things. I want Powerball first."
"You little..."
After a round of venting frustration about the traitor, the conversation continued.
"Okay, you fought. But why were you late?"
Ezra asked, and Dane paused before answering.
"While we were fighting, we almost fell off a cliff..."
"What? A cliff?"
"That one by the slope? Wow, that’s seriously dangerous!"
Everyone gasped in surprise, but Dane responded indifferently.
"Don’t overreact. Nothing really happened, we were fine."
It was half true, half a lie. Luckily, they didn’t fall off the cliff, but they had ended up having to climb up a steep cliff. They had fought until the last minute, but that wasn’t the situation anymore. Now, they needed to find a place to climb in order to survive. They had both found a spot at almost the sa ti. And then...
Dane casually added, while bringing the beer glass to his lips.
"We almost fell, but anyway, we made it up, and Miller was faster than . That’s it."
He condensed the whole reality dramatically, and one of them, still unsure, asked.
"Co on, be honest, you could’ve won, right? Huh?"
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