Chapter Five: Interviews One by One

Chapter Five: Interviews One by One

The first company Xia Zheng interviewed with was called "MIX," a firm specializing in the development of weapons and equipment, with its main customers being the military and espers. Its business extended throughout the Federation and even had some overseas operations. The compensation package was excellent, and MIX had long ranked among the top fifty best employers in the Federation.

Upon entering the MIX office building, Xia Zheng noticed the overall decor was blue and white, mirroring the design of the Azure Federation’s flag—symbolizing technology and freedom.

At the reception, two attractive young women greeted him with professional smiles. “Welcome to MIX, sir. Do you have an appointment?”

Xia Zheng nodded and presented his electronic card and interview invitation on his phone. The reception desk itself was an intelligent networked device, which, upon scanning his credentials, immediately displayed a gold-tier appointment, alerting the receptionists that he was a VIP.

Instantly, their demeanor became much more enthusiastic. One of the women personally escorted him into the elevator, acting as his attendant to the guest lounge on the eighth floor. The other immediately called the day's interviewer.

As the elevator doors opened on the eighth floor, Xia Zheng was surprised to see four people waiting to greet him. The receptionist who had accompanied him maintained a respectful bow.

“Mr. Xia, we’ve been expecting you,” said the man at the front—a middle-aged man with impeccably styled black hair, a pair of gold-rimmed glasses, and a professional smile that left Xia Zheng hard-pressed to find fault.

“I’m undeserving of such welcome. I’ve only just graduated and still have much to learn. If I make any mistakes, I hope you’ll forgive me,” Xia Zheng replied humbly. Hearing this, the man’s opinion of Xia Zheng rose even higher. For someone with such an outstanding record to remain so modest—it was impressive indeed.

“You’re too kind, Mr. Xia. Please, this way,” the man said, stepping aside to invite him in.

“Thank you.” Xia Zheng didn’t want to be overly modest. He thanked him and stood to the man’s right as they made their way to the lounge.

Following behind the man were two others, who seemed to be his subordinates, as they fell back and kept their heads respectfully lowered. The woman to the side, likely a secretary, seemed more familiar with her superior and less reserved—instead, she used her charm to offer Xia Zheng a few compliments from time to time.

Once inside the lounge, the man introduced himself, “Mr. Xia, I am He Guohui, Vice President of MIX. I’ll be your interviewer today.”

“Thank you, Mr. He.” Xia Zheng replied with poise. He had every right to: as a gold-tier talent, MIX was a major company but not the very top of its industry—Xia Zheng could easily seek better opportunities.

He Guohui then had his assistant, Christine, open a PPT and launch a holographic presentation, introducing MIX’s history, honors, status, notable figures, and talent development plans. Remuneration was not mentioned for now.

Of the other two men, one took interview notes and the other poured tea.

Xia Zheng listened attentively and raised several pointed questions, which He Guohui answered patiently, though none touched on his true concerns.

As the interview neared its end, Xia Zheng finally asked what he truly wanted to know.

“President He, if I may, I’m generally satisfied with your company overall; compensation is negotiable. However, I’ve noticed one shortcoming: MIX seems to lack in the area of esper team development. Is that correct?” Xia Zheng had already discerned MIX’s situation from the introduction—far more accurate than anything on the web. The company’s online materials boasted of its esper teams’ scale and strength, but in truth, MIX had neither its own professional esper team nor a long-term contracted squad. All tasks were assigned ad hoc, with temporary hires—more akin to freelancers.

He Guohui didn’t answer immediately. He picked up his tea in a tactical pause, clearly weighing his response.

All eyes in the room, including Christine’s, focused on Xia Zheng—the seemingly inexperienced young man who, unlike most fresh graduates, didn’t fixate on salary but instead zeroed in on company structure. Most would simply negotiate for a good salary and want to sign instantly; few remained this calm, and none would ignore compensation altogether.

“Mr. Xia, forgive me for being blunt. Members of esper teams are generally referred to as ‘esper hunters’ across industries. They are often those passed over by the military or retired due to injuries. Esper teams are contracted by companies like ours to carry out assignments and collect bounties. Their work is tough, dirty, and dangerous, and their pay can’t compare to us white-collar professionals. May I ask—why are you so concerned with these mud-stained laborers?” He Guohui’s gaze sharpened, his tone now unmistakably proud.

A wave of soul-deep anger washed over Xia Zheng. Ever since awakening his esper abilities, he had seen himself as one of them—even if he hadn’t passed the military’s selection, he still considered himself a cut above. Yet to He Guohui, they were nothing but mud-stained peasants. So being a white-collar professional was something to be proud of?

He had the ability to become a white-collar elite, but if that meant looking down on espers, he wanted no part of it. Espers might not make as much money, but money was never Xia Zheng’s ultimate goal, just a tool for achieving his ambitions.

“Because I am… an esper myself.” With that, Xia Zheng stood, gathering his things.

He Guohui stood abruptly, recalling a rumor about Xia Zheng—one he hadn’t investigated. After all, Xia Zheng’s later achievements had turned the rumor of his disqualification from the military’s special recruitment into an inspiring story. No one cared about that rumor anymore.

Yet He Guohui hadn’t expected the young graduate before him to truly be an esper. Did that mean the military had made a mistake? He now regretted his earlier tone—his natural aversion to espers had shown through. In business, science, and even the military, there was a prevailing prejudice against esper hunters, who were seen as unruly and undisciplined.

“Mr. Xia, I apologize for my earlier words. Perhaps we could arrange another time to discuss our esper team strategy in detail?” He Guohui stepped forward, blocking Xia Zheng’s path. The other three were stunned—never had they seen the vice president humble himself before a newcomer. This was unprecedented.

“No need, President He. I think there’s a fundamental difference in our philosophies that can’t be reconciled. I appreciate your company’s interest in me, but I don’t think I’m a good fit for MIX.” Xia Zheng sidestepped him and walked past.

Unwilling to give up, He Guohui made a last attempt: “Mr. Xia, with my highest authority, I guarantee your annual salary will not be less than a million Federation credits if you join us.”

The offer stunned the other three. They had struggled for over five years to reach a six-figure salary, but Xia Zheng, a fresh graduate, was offered a million straight out of school—perhaps that was the capital for his pride.

“Sorry, President He. I don’t work for money. And besides, I think you’re mistaken… Espers are not short on cash.” With that, Xia Zheng left. He Guohui’s face darkened; it had been a long time since he’d lowered himself so much for anyone, let alone a fresh graduate.

After leaving MIX, Xia Zheng proceeded to interviews at two more companies. The second was a car manufacturer, financially robust and ranked near the top 100 of the Federation’s top 500 enterprises. They, too, were eager to recruit him, offering a million-credits salary right away—their wealth was obvious.

But Xia Zheng still valued esper teams more highly. He soon discovered this company had no real esper team at all—just social media influencers posing with cars for photos. The interviewer barely understood what espers were and even confused them with car brands, revealing just how much the company’s marketing was built on falsehoods. Fame didn’t guarantee authenticity.

The third company was a biopharmaceutical firm, mainly serving espers. This seemed promising—an offer of 500,000 Federation credits after taxes, nearly 800,000 before. Though less than previous offers, the company had its own esper team.

This aligned with what Xia Zheng wanted. Both sides were satisfied, so Xia Zheng requested to observe and interact with the company’s esper team. The interviewer hesitated but ultimately agreed.

But when Xia Zheng, full of anticipation, finally met the team, he realized it was not a combat unit but a performance troupe—or influencer squad.

There were ten of them, five men and five women, all attractive and fit, decked out in custom combat suits and weaponry. At first glance, Xia Zheng was nearly breathless.

But the scene quickly changed. The ten were filming a commercial on a green screen—one man, impossibly strong, lifted a car with his shoulder; another could shapeshift into a beast like a panther or tiger, although rather unconvincingly. Others played with fire or water, one ran as fast as the wind—everyone showing off their talents. With the crew’s efforts and post-production, the final product was bound to be impressive.

At the commercial’s conclusion, all ten espers grinned broadly, flashing pearly whites, and recited in unison: “Modray Gene Serum—helping me become the strongest esper.”

Then, one woman zoomed in, pointing downward. Xia Zheng glanced at the cue—it turned out the finished ad would display the company’s hotline and website below her finger.

“Why wait? Call now or visit our website—phone orders get discounts, online orders get discounts, full refunds if you’re not satisfied, guaranteed satisfaction!” The woman delivered her lines perfectly, prompting the director—megaphone in hand and hat on his head—to call “That’s a wrap!”

The group bustled off to collect their boxed lunches. Xia Zheng’s gaze dimmed. Had things fallen so far that, aside from the military’s trained espers, others could only shoot commercials and line up for boxed lunches?

“Mr. Xia, what do you think? Our esper team ranks among the top five hundred in the Federation. The top three hundred are almost all led by or composed of military espers,” the interviewer said, rubbing his hands proudly.

Suppressing his frustration, Xia Zheng replied, “Let me think about it and get back to you in a few days, alright?”

“Oh… How about we sign an employment agreement first?” The interviewer was clearly uneasy.

According to Federation Employment Law, such agreements are binding. If a company fails to hire as agreed or the applicant refuses to join without proper reason, compensation is required—five percent of the agreed post-tax annual salary. For 500,000 credits, that meant 25,000.

“Sorry, Mr. Bologni, I don’t think I’m right for your company. Goodbye.” Xia Zheng had no choice but to refuse; he couldn’t afford the penalty, and his family’s finances had only just improved thanks to his exam success—he would not burden them with his own caprice.

Leaving the high-tech park, Xia Zheng sighed deeply. He had underestimated reality. Despite ten years of development and over three million espers, those truly worthy of the title were few. Did that mean he had no choice but to accept the military’s offer?

He thought of that day in the café, of Felina’s arrogant fiancé and his condescending tone. Even if he could never be a true esper, Xia Zheng swore he would never bow to someone like that.