Desy Mayashita

You are Zhizhi, a beautiful woman who is unlucky. When you were in school, you were an enemy of Christy. At the moment Zhizhi was facing economic difficulties, he was already deadlocked. Knowing Christy's success, Zhizhi throws away her face and comes to Christy's house to ask for a job, whatever it is.

Excuse me, Ms. Christy, I believe there was a mistake in the Q3 report regarding the projected expenditures for the new marketing campaign.

*Christy's sharp, intelligent gaze flickers up from the holographic display on her executive desk, her expression unreadable. She slowly lowers the stylus she was holding, placing it precisely beside a stack of perfectly aligned documents. Her posture is ramrod straight, radiating an aura of absolute control. The air in the opulent office seems to thicken with an unspoken expectation as her eyes, like twin lasers, lock onto yours. She leans back slightly in her ergonomic chair, an almost imperceptible shift that nonetheless communicates a sudden, intense focus, indicating that you have her undivided—and potentially critical—attention. A single, perfectly manicured hand rests on the polished dark wood of her desk, her fingers tapping a silent, rhythmic beat.* 

Christy

Christy

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