Chapter 296 - 233: The Most Casual Shooting Scene Ever

Chapter 296: Chapter 233: The Most Casual Shooting Scene Ever

"How did you recognize me?"

Morris scratched his head in confusion.

"I mean, I’ve turned into... this."

As he said, he was no longer recognizable as a human. He had been the star player of the Repin Academy’s magic dodgeball team, a minor social media celebrity, the developer of the music player project, and a handsome human guy who received confessions from upper and underclassmen every week.

A pair of demon horns, twisting upwards like an antelope’s, sat on his head. His eyes were pure black, without pupils. His skin had a reddish tint, and he had a sharp, pointed tail over a meter long.

The standard look for a Tiefling.

As one of the few intelligent races with long tails, Tieflings had a hard time buying pants. Most of them bought human pants and just cut a hole for the tail.

Zog observed the tail. It was quite flexible. ’It must be real.’

It wasn’t that he was overly suspicious. It was just that a previous interviewee had tried to pass himself off as a Tiefling to get the job.

If the tail had actually moved, Zog would have been fooled.

Zog had initially assumed the imposter’s fake tail was a simple accessory, but it turned out the man had made a significant sacrifice—it was a plug-in.

"Even Xiaomo didn’t recognize me at first," Morris said with feigned exaggeration.

Despite being turned into a Tiefling, he seemed to be in pretty good spirits. He wasn’t like most victims of the incident, who had become depressed, withdrawn, and shut themselves away.

"I smelled you," Zog answered, resolving Morris’s confusion.

"I can also smell three different types of perfume on you," Zog said, taking a deliberate sniff. "In fact, one of them is the same kind Gordo’s secretary uses."

"We just... had a little chat. It was a nice chat," Morris said, whistling awkwardly, which only made him seem more like a player.

Only handsome guys can be called players. Ugly guys are just called creeps.

To be honest, the Tiefling version of Morris was actually very photogenic.

"Why didn’t you list your academy or your accomplishments in magic on your resume?"

If he had, Zog would have recognized him last night.

Morris’s resume wasn’t fake, though. It just listed his experience taking care of children and small animals. It wasn’t impressive, but compared to the applicants who listed how many times they’d been to prison, he was much more suitable as a caregiver.

Morris replied, "Because I didn’t think Repin Academy or my magic abilities would be helpful for this job. I didn’t expect you to be conducting the interviews personally, though."

’What an honest kid.’

Zog remembered the first resume he ever made, how he’d wanted to cram every single noteworthy thing he’d ever done onto it.

He later discovered it was useless.

For example, a game company didn’t care about his club activities. And unless you were drop-dead gorgeous, you shouldn’t put a photo on your resume if it wasn’t required.

"But why do you want to be a caregiver? Logically speaking, you shouldn’t be short on money," Zog asked.

As the inventor of the music player, Morris got a small cut for every unit produced.

The cut per unit wasn’t much, but the production volume was enormous.

As long as he didn’t lose it all on bad investments, he’d be set for life.

"Because I’ve been temporarily suspended from school. The principal said Tiefling students aren’t allowed on campus for now because of potential conflicts. It hasn’t been decided if we’ll be able to return to class or if we’ll have to finish our degrees through correspondence. At least it’ll be easier to graduate."

Morris said it jokingly, but his expression wasn’t happy at all. He hadn’t come to study abroad on a scholarship just to scrape by with a degree.

"Plus, my internet career is dead. I used to rely on my handsome looks, but after turning into a Tiefling, I’d lose a few hundred followers every time I refreshed the page. So I stopped posting. Anyway, I’m very idle right now and want to find something to do."

"Do you have any experience as a caregiver?"

Zog asked the formulaic interview question.

"No, but I can learn. I think I’m a pretty fast learner."

"Then what advantages do you think you have over other applicants for this job?"

"Uh, I’m pretty familiar with Sir Gordo. Does that count as an advantage?"

Morris answered, his tone hesitant.

In reality, he had only met Sir Gordo a handful of times, and their interactions had always been about work related to the music player.

Morris didn’t really know what kind of person Sir Gordo was.

"Right, Mr. Gordo? Trust me, I’ll take great care of you." With that, he stepped forward to shake Sir Gordo’s hand.

The female secretary standing to the side stared, wide-eyed. She was astonished. Didn’t this "idiot" know that Sir Gordo couldn’t move his limbs?

’How rude! He has no respect for the disabled at all.’

Sir Gordo looked at Morris’s outstretched hand, not knowing what to say.

"Don’t be like that. It’s awkward shaking hands by myself. I know you use Mage’s Hand all the time."

Hearing this, Sir Gordo rolled his eyes and extended his Mage’s Hand to grasp Morris’s right hand.

The moment it made contact, Morris’s right hand suddenly detached at the wrist. Startled, Sir Gordo’s Mage’s Hand dissipated, and the severed hand fell onto his unmoving lap.

Morris immediately clutched his arm and howled, "AGH, IT HURTS! MY HAND! MY RIGHT HAND!"

The severed hand was still twitching on Sir Gordo’s thigh; he could feel its warmth and the terrifying convulsions.

Sir Gordo was so terrified by this turn of events that he wanted to recoil, but he couldn’t move.

"HAHAHA!" Seeing Sir Gordo’s panicked and helpless expression, Morris stopped wailing and started laughing until he was out of breath.