When Ayano Arata opened his wardrobe to look for clothes, he discovered one very serious problem—he didn't have a single set of "normal" casual clothes.

He'd always worn his school uniform before, and Japanese uniforms looked pretty good anyway, so he'd never really cared about his private wardrobe. But the moment he saw the wildly different outfits hanging in the closet, he sucked in a sharp breath.

No matter which one he picked, they'd all probably give people the same impression once he put them on—delinquent. If he wore something like that to a part-time job interview, it'd probably backfire. He might as well just wear his school uniform.

After fumbling around for quite a while, he ended up changing into his school uniform anyway, just a different clean set. Schools usually issued two uniforms, after all, so one could be worn while the other was being washed.

Once everything was ready, Ayano Arata officially set out. He walked fast, and reached his destination before even 5:30.

Ms. Miyamoto lived in a high-end apartment tower. The whole building had over thirty floors and practically pierced the clouds. There was a smart access system at the entrance, and residents had to swipe a card to get in. Obviously, there was no way Ayano Arata would have an access card for this building, so his only option was to use the intercom panel and enter the room number to call Ms. Miyamoto. But since she hadn't left her room number on the local app, he had no choice but to call her now.

Just as Ayano Arata's call started ringing, a young woman walking toward the apartment also pulled a phone out of her handbag. That made him a little suspicious.

"Could that be Ms. Miyamoto? But she looks really young. She doesn't seem like someone with a child. It can't be that much of a coincidence, right?"

"Hello?"

As soon as the call connected, Ayano Arata told Ms. Miyamoto where he was. But after hearing his explanation, the other end suddenly went silent. Only after a long pause did a cold voice come through.

"Are you... still a high school student?"

Ayano Arata had never told Ms. Miyamoto he was still in high school, yet she'd brought it up on her own. If he still couldn't figure out that the young woman walking toward him was Ms. Miyamoto, then he'd be an idiot.

Only when Ms. Miyamoto got closer did Ayano Arata really take a good look at her. She looked about twenty-five, wearing a light gray office lady suit and dark red heels. Her figure was fuller than average, and her first impression was strikingly glamorous. But once she drew near, he could feel an invisible zone spreading out from her, like a warning that said keep away. She was probably the strong career-woman type.

While Ayano Arata was sizing Ms. Miyamoto up, Miyamoto was also observing him. She simply couldn't understand how the person who came for the interview was actually a high school student. She was already starting to wonder if someone was messing with her.

"Hello, I'm Ayano Arata. May I ask if you're Ms. Miyamoto?" Once the woman approached, he politely asked for confirmation.

Just as he'd expected, this OL lady really was Miyamoto. She calmly put away her phone first, then extended her right hand and said coldly, "Hello. My name is Miyamoto Masami."

Miyamoto Masami's hand was slender and elegant, but Ayano Arata didn't stare. He only gave it a light shake and let go at once. First impressions mattered a lot with strangers, and he didn't want to leave her with the impression that he was frivolous. If that happened, there'd be no point continuing the interview. He could just turn around and go home now.

At a glance, Miyamoto Masami was clearly the aloof, high-powered type. It wasn't that she completely looked down on men from the bottom of her heart, but her fixed impression of them was definitely poor. Ayano Arata understood that getting this job wouldn't be easy. He'd need enough ability, of course, but his character would probably be tested just as harshly.

In fact, his guess wasn't far off. Miyamoto Masami had deliberately taken the initiative to offer a handshake. The point was basically to observe how he reacted. She was extremely confident in her ability to read people. Through something as simple as a handshake, she could usually see straight through the ugly thoughts in a man's heart.

But Ayano Arata's response left her puzzled. In her eyes, he was polite, calm, and could even be called cautious. Yet that kind of behavior didn't fit his identity as a high school student at all.

"Could it be... he's not messing with me? Could he really understand Chinese?"

Ayano Arata's mature bearing kept Miyamoto Masami from dismissing him outright just because he was a high school student. Instead, she decided to give him a chance to prove himself.

"Then come up with me."

After saying that, Miyamoto Masami stopped paying attention to him and went to swipe her card at the apartment entrance. From the ground floor, to waiting for the elevator, to riding it up, and finally entering her home, Ayano Arata followed silently behind her the whole way.

Even though he was right behind her, and that full, curvy backside that practically held up the entire skirt of her suit was close enough to see clearly, he only glanced at it once from the corner of his eye at first and didn't dare look a second time. He always felt that the aura Miyamoto Masami gave off wasn't just the kind that kept people at arm's length. It almost seemed like she might even be able to sense the gazes around her.

The thought nearly made him laugh. If anyone really had that kind of ability, shouldn't it be a transmigrator like him? Still, no matter what, his mental age was already over forty, and he had several years of workplace experience. He knew very well what to pay attention to during an interview. No matter how tempting something was right in front of him, if it wasn't the time to look, then he absolutely wouldn't look. Self-control was one of the most basic signs of his mental maturity.

Ayano Arata had guessed that Miyamoto Masami might be testing him, but he hadn't guessed that she really was especially sensitive to the disgusting looks men gave her. So all of his behavior so far had left her very satisfied. At the very least, he seemed far more reliable than the men who had come to interview before him. In other words, in Miyamoto Masami's eyes, his character had passed. Next, it would depend on whether his ability met the standard.

"Sit down for a bit. I need to prepare something."

After entering, Miyamoto Masami had him sit on the sofa. As for herself, she returned to the bedroom and shut the door behind her. As for what exactly she was going to prepare, he had no idea.