I had only left the scar cream on for less than half an hour, yet the visible wounds were gone, leaving behind faint marks that looked like they could easily be covered with concealer.
"Is this magic?!" I shouted at the system.
[Everything you buy from the system market is far more effective than human-world products, Host.]
[The higher the grade, the stronger the results.]
Ohhh ... so that was what the little "Grade A" mark next to the scar cream was for.
The system then displayed the market on a hologram panel, showing that if I wanted to buy sothing, all I had to do was double-click it.
Unfortunately, the system didn’t have costics like makeup or skincare products.
Sighing, I dug through Helcia’s makeup pouch instead, only to recoil instantly. "Ugh, seriously? This concealer expired two years ago! Gross!"
I dug deeper and pulled out a beauty blender that looked like it had been washed and reused a hundred tis. It was stiff, cracked, and slled faintly like mildew.
I gagged. "Oh my god, Helcia ... how did you survive like this while living in a freaking mansion?"
The Davenport family really had so nerve. Those selfish bastards couldn’t even give this poor girl proper pocket money?
"M-maybe if I use this concealer for less than ten minutes, it’ll be fine," I muttered, trying to encourage myself.
I washed my face first, then dabbed on the expired concealer. There was no way in hell I was touching that moldy beauty blender, so I sared and blended it in with my fingers as fast as I could.
Once that was done, I tied my hair back and slipped on a bandana to make myself look at least a little more put together. Since they only wanted a bare face photo, my hair probably didn’t matter much anyway.
Still, the thought nagged . That awful yellowish-corn color ... ugh. If they saw this ss, I was dood.
Yeah, first thing after this, I was definitely dyeing it black.
I snapped several photos, and it didn’t take long to pick one that looked good. It seed like Helcia’s face was already perfect from every angle or maybe it was just because I wasn’t used to this face yet, so my insecurities hadn’t surfaced.
After all, whenever I looked in the mirror, I still saw Helcia’s features as soone else’s, a face that wasn’t really mine.
But anyway, it truly felt good to look into the mirror and not feel like my whole body and face were ugly. I silently prayed this feeling would last.
After that, I sent my photo to Rosélle Beauty’s social dia account along with a short polite greeting.
"I hope they reply soon," I muttered while wiping the concealer off my face as fast as I could.
But before I even finished cleaning up, my phone buzzed, and a ssage popped up from Rosélle Beauty’s staff.
[Good afternoon, Ms. Helcia.
We are pleased to inform you that your appearance seems to match the the we are preparing for the advertisent.
Please send us more information about yourself and co directly to our office tomorrow at 10 AM, at Red Maple Street No. 4, Redmont City.
Sincerely,
Margareth Brown.]
I widened my eyes and jumped to my feet so fast I nearly knocked the chair over.
"AAAAAAA!!!" I scread at my phone screen, then started pacing around the room like a lost duckling trying to find its mother.
"What should I do? What should I do?!" I chewed on my thumb, panic rushing through . I had never expected a reply this fast. Usually, I had to wait at least a few days before anyone bothered to answer.
[Host, you can start by creating your CV and sending it to them first.]
Right. Yes. A CV. I could do that.
But ... what exactly was I supposed to write about Helcia’s background? Damn it, my mories were still a total ss!
[Do you want the system to help you create a formal CV based on Helcia’s background, Host?]
[There will be a small fee of $5.]
"Yes, please! Oh goodness!" I blurted out without a second thought.
[Ding! Drawing $5 from Host’s balance!]
A glowing panel appeared in front of , text forming line by line as if an invisible hand was typing it out. Within seconds, a neat and professional CV appeared on the screen, far better than anything I could have written on my own.
I leaned closer, my mouth hanging open. "Holy crap ... this actually looks legit."
[Sending the data to Host’s phone ...]
A soft chi followed, and my phone buzzed in my hand. I opened it quickly and almost dropped it when I saw the CV already formatted perfectly in a PDF file, complete with a clean layout, bullet points, and even a little professional flair.
My jaw dropped. "This ... this is better than anything my old manager ever made for ."
Without wasting another second, I sent the photo to Rosélle Beauty’s staff and let out a long breath of relief—NO! Who was I kidding? Like hell I could relax!
What about my freaking hair?! It still looked like a patch of yellow corn!
[You still have ti to go to the salon, Host.]
"A salon? Are you kidding ?" I nearly pulled at my roots. "How am I supposed to spend money at a salon when I still have debt strangling by the throat?!"
[Do you rember that you still have a mystery coupon, Host?]
I froze mid-panic. Oh, right. The coupon. Slowly, my heart stopped racing as I whispered, "Yes ... what about it?"
[The mystery coupon can be redeed for one random premium service, Host.]
My eyes lit up instantly. "Wait—random? As in, it could actually give a salon treatnt?!"
[Correct. The system will select the service at random once you redeem it.]
I pressed my palms together like I was praying to every god in existence. "Please, please, let it be sothing for my hair. If I have to walk into Rosélle Beauty tomorrow looking like a roasted corn cob, I’ll die!"
[Would you like to redeem it now, Host?]
"Yes! Redeem it! Hurry!"
[Redeeming ... Ding! Congratulations, Host. You have received: One Premium Salon Makeover Voucher.]
I gasped so hard I almost dropped my phone. "NO WAY. Did I just hit the jackpot?!"
Had my bad luck—the one that always made pull trash cards in gacha gas—finally disappeared?! Oh no, no, this had to be because I still had the lucky buff from the system.
[The coupon is worth $2,000 and can be redeed at any salon you choose, Host.]
My jaw nearly hit the floor. Two thousand dollars for hair!
I didn’t think twice and imdiately changed my clothes. I ran out of the room, and the mont I spotted Henry, I practically shouted, "Henry! Henry! Henry! Can you ask soone to take to the bus stop?"
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