Chapter 23: The Hardest and Fastest Interview in the World
Chapter 23: The Hardest and Fastest Interview in the World
It was lunchtime on a day no different from any other.
Florian hurriedly shoved the last piece of quick meal into his mouth, chewing as he brushed the remaining crumbs off his hand with a few quick shakes.
After finishing that, Florian turned to head back into the factory. But a poster he had never seen before, pasted on the wall, caught his eye.
Florian slowly read through the poster.
People are the future! We are hiring an office worker to join the family-like company Isaac’s People.
Before he knew it, Florian had peeled the poster off the wall and was holding it in his hands to read.
The work is simple office work. Working hours are from noon to 7 p.m. The workplace is Isaac’s People, Branch No. 1 on Grenelle Street.
And at the very end of the poster, Florian’s body trembled.
Pay is given daily, and it is 3 livres. Come in for an interview anytime you feel comfortable!
Just then, someone tapped Florian on the shoulder and spoke. It was a worker from the next line over, about ten years older than him.
“Hey, Florian. Break’s over. Time to head back in.”
“…Sir, what is this?”
The worker glanced at the poster in Florian’s hand and spoke like it was nothing.
“Oh, that? For the past few days, those ladies who go around selling quick meals have been scattering those all over the place.”
“I see…”
“…Florian. You’re not actually going to believe what’s written there, are you?”
The worker stared at Florian’s tightly shut mouth for a moment, then sighed and spoke.
“Ha… Florian. Think it through. You’re not illiterate like me—you know better. It’s not like rich gentry got shot in the head. Why would they go around throwing money like that? Even if you go there like it says, you’ll just end up getting humiliated by some nasty noble or businessman asking if you really believed it. Don’t waste your time—come inside.”
To them, we’re not people—worse than monkeys.
That was what the worker added.
With that, the worker left Florian standing outside and walked into the factory.
Florian thought.
He’s right, point by point.
Among all the businessmen and capitalists he had met so far, almost none paid their employees that much money. If anything, to the public eye, the factory boss where Florian worked—who pitied his wretched situation and added five extra coins to the daily wage he received—would be the one considered strange.
This was a scam.
It had to be a scam. A trap set by nasty, eccentric capitalists to mess with naïve commoners—obviously. So this poster was nothing more than kindling.
But despite thinking that, Florian could not loosen the grip of his hand clamped around the poster.
If this is real.
Three livres. Three times what he was making now. And only seven hours of work. With the remaining time, he could start studying again—the schooling he had been forced to quit.
While Florian was lost in that thought, someone came out of the factory door and started shouting, startling him.
“Hey! Florian! How long have you been working here—get inside right now!”
“Y-yes! I’m coming, foreman!”
Florian stuffed the poster into his back pocket and went back into the acrid factory.
But now, nearly a month later, Florian still had not gone to the Isaac’s People office.
No—more precisely, he could not.
That was the life of Florian, a day laborer who earned one day to survive one day.
If he did not go to work even for a single day, he would immediately have to worry about the next meal—for his mother and himself.
So Florian saved money, one sou a day, so that even if he took a day off work, he could still manage one day’s meals.
And that month passed.
And today, Florian took a day off from the factory and went to the Isaac’s People office.
Maybe because it was still early morning, the office was completely empty, without a single sign of life.
“Ugh… did I take ‘come anytime’ too literally?”
The cold winter weather that had arrived in place of the crisp autumn days now gone filled the empty corridor with icy air.
Because of that, Florian tucked both hands tightly into his armpits, sat down on the corridor floor however he could, and began waiting helplessly for an interviewer he did not even know.
How much time passed? Without a clock, Florian had no way of knowing how many hours it had been.
All he could do was roughly guess the time by looking at where the sun sat outside the window. The sun hung about a quarter of the way up in the sky.
“Maybe only one or two hours have passed.”
Time really crawls.
To pass the time, Florian decided to sleep a little.
“…Hello! …Excuse me!”
What? Who is it?
“Hey—young man! Wake up a bit!”
“Y-yes? Huh?”
“Oh, thank goodness—you’re alive! Thank goodness, thank goodness! We thought you were dead!”
When Florian opened his eyes, he realized several middle-aged women were surrounding him as he crouched in the corridor.
“W-what… uh… wh-why… why’s this…?”
When he opened his mouth, Florian could feel his upper and lower lips trembling, and he could hear his teeth clacking nonstop.
Florian tried to reach out and grab his mouth, which was moving on its own, but his stiffened arm only creaked, unable to obey him.
“No, why are you like this here?”
“H-he… hel… p…”
“Oh, what am I doing—first we need to save the person. Marie! Help me! Let’s get this young man up. Yes, grab him there, and one, two, three!”
When two of the women grabbed both of Florian’s arms and lifted him, his body—crouched for nearly three hours—let out a terrifying shriek of protest.
“U-uaaagh! Gaaah!”
And Florian screamed too.
“Ah, so you came because you saw the poster our little boss put up?”
“Y-yes… th-that’s r-right…”
Thirty minutes had passed since Florian had been rescued from freezing in the corridor, but he still had to force his jaw muscles to speak.
That only became possible because he had been wrapped in blankets between a hot oven and a griddle, and given hot water to drink.
“But what do we do. Our little boss went somewhere today…”
“W-what…?”
Florian felt like the sky was collapsing.
He had scraped together spare change little by little, finally made time to come—only for the boss to be away.
“…No.”
“Hm? Young man, what did you say?”
“I… today… I have to meet the boss.”
Florian twisted his still-stiff jaw muscles and spoke clearly.
By the time the sun slipped behind the horizon and the moon painted the sky white, Florian was still waiting.
“They’re good people.”
Florian murmured softly.
“But still… is this ‘boss’ even coming today?”
At that moment, someone came up the corridor singing a bizarre song and unlocked the office door.
Florian immediately flung off the blanket and ran over.
“What can I do for you?”
“Um… is this the Isaac’s People office?”
“I came because I saw the hiring notice.”
“Wow—welcome!!!!!!!!!!”
That night, until he fell asleep, Florian kept repeating to himself that maybe—just maybe—he had not been scammed.