God Level Farmer In Another World

Chapter 120: Evan

The dog-headed woman stared at Desmond for a while and said:

"So, you're a friend of the Guild President. Then this must all be a misunderstanding."

If this person had Alexander's backing, even if it wasn't a misunderstanding, it had to become one.

Lily muttered under her breath: "That's not how it is at all."

Desmond shot Lily a sharp glare before smiling warmly at the dog-headed woman. "My church isn't far from here. Why don't you come over for a cup of coffee?"

The dog-headed woman shook her head. "No need to trouble yourself."

With that, the entire thick fog dissipated, as though it had never existed.

Desmond wiped the cold sweat from his forehead.

Are all those from the Mercenary Guild this unpredictable and mysterious?

He had to find a way to relay this incident to the Church of God.

Desmond sneaked a glance at Lily. Is there a way to kill this woman without the Guild President finding out?

Lily sensed Desmond's chilling gaze and responded with a provocative, mischievous smile.

North Sea, New District, A Rental Apartment.

"Today, I must succeed in the interview!" Evan adjusted his tie, giving himself a pep talk in the mirror.

"Eat breakfast before you go. Your stomach isn't great." Alice walked out of the kitchen with a bowl of noodles in her hands.

Evan's gaze softened—this was his girlfriend. He smiled and said: "I'm… a little nervous."

This was his eighteenth job interview since graduating. Once a prodigy at Beihai Third High School, ranked first in the city and third in the province with a sixth-level spiritual energy.

According to common patterns, achieving sixth-level spiritual energy at eighteen would surely result in awakening a Class B ability. As long as it was a combat-oriented talent, his future would soar.

At that point, major corporations, even the Security Bureau, would vie to offer him opportunities. But alas, he awakened a lifestyle talent.

Perhaps it had to do with his hobby of sculpting. He awakened an A-rank sculpting talent. A completely useless lifestyle talent.

Evan became a slacker. He adopted an indifferent attitude toward life quality—so long as he had enough to eat and drink, he was fine. He didn't even care for the best cigarettes.

With such a mindset, he could have lived without ambition. But he had a girlfriend willing to endure hardship alongside him and a mother who always supported him. And those were his reasons to work hard and earn money.

After a brief slump, Evan began sending out his resume. Public Environment Affairs Office, Interior Design Research Lab, State-Owned Construction Company—he applied to every job related to sculpting. But none responded.

Today, he had another interview scheduled—this time for a designer position at a private renovation company. Alice placed the bowl of noodles on the table and gently hugged Evan from behind, murmuring: "It's okay. If it doesn't work out, we can go back to the Old District. We could grow vegetables and still get by."

Evan was chubby, and her arms couldn't wrap fully around his waist, but she had embraced his heart. It felt warm.

He smiled bitterly and shook his head. "I'll keep trying. Let's avoid going back to the Old District."

What was the Old District? The first place to suffer when demon beasts attacked the city. There was no guarantee of safety.

Evan gently unwrapped Alice's arms, opened the door, and stepped out. Alice sat alone at the table, staring blankly at the steaming bowl of noodle soup in front of her.

Ever since Evan's sculpting talent was revealed, her family had opposed their relationship. What was once a promising son-in-law in their eyes had become nothing but a pest.

Just yesterday, her mother had called again, urging her to go on a blind date with a security officer they'd chosen for her. While she was lost in thought, her phone rang.

Alice quickly answered: "Evan, did you forget something?"

After a brief silence, a lively female voice came through. "Why are you always calling him Evan? It's so nauseating!"

Alice chuckled lightly, feigning calm. "Oh, it's you, Emily. Didn't you just start dating a rich second-generation heir? Why are you thinking of calling me now?"

Emily giggled. "I was worried about you. How could I bear to see you stuck with that scumbag, suffering?"

Alice was taken aback. "Evan treats me really well. How is he a scumbag?"

Emily replied matter-of-factly: "He's a broke guy with a lifestyle talent. Knowing full well that he can't give you happiness, he still clings to you without breaking up. Isn't that scummy?"

"This is exactly what makes him a scumbag! I'm so done with him!"

Alice snapped in displeasure, "If you're not calling for something important, I'm hanging up."

Emily quickly interrupted, "Wait! Don't hang up—I do have something to tell you. Don't say I never think of you when good things come along, okay? I recently met a rich guy, and he's looking for a girlfriend. How about meeting him?"

Alice hung up the phone immediately.

It didn't take long before Emily called back again.

Alice, now irritated, said, "I'm not interested in your so-called rich guy. If you keep bringing this up, we're done being friends."

Emily pleaded, "Just meet him once, okay? If you do, I'll give you 20,000 bucks."

Alice let out a cold laugh. "What do you take me for, someone for sale?"

Emily hastily explained, "It's not like that! His dad is a business partner of my boyfriend's family. He happened to see your picture on my phone the other day and insisted on meeting you. I already told him you would. Can't you just help me out? You don't have to do anything, just have a meal with him. Please?"

Alice hesitated.

If she had that 20,000 bucks, she could tell her family that Evan had landed a decent job and that it was money Evan earned.

That way, they might approve of her staying with him.

After pondering for a moment, Alice said, "Fine, but it's just a meeting. Only a meeting. If I feel uncomfortable, I'll leave right away."

Omont Renovation Design Company.

In the third-floor office area hallway, about a dozen interviewees sat on long benches, waiting for their turn to be called by the interviewers.

The interviewees were quietly discussing today's interview.

"I've always wanted to say, isn't today's position a bit strange? It requires knowledge of sculpting?"

"Bro, you're out of the loop, huh? This Omont Renovation Company has state-backed ties, so they always land big villa design projects. Sculptures for villas—makes sense, doesn't it?"

"Well, I have an F-rank sculpting talent, so I'm pretty confident about this interview."

Evan listened to their conversation and felt a bit relieved. I have an A-rank sculpting talent. I should be able to ace this interview.

"Hey, you seem pretty confident. Are you also an artistic talent?"

The question came from a young man nearby with a slightly disdainful tone.

Evan turned to look.

It was a young man wearing gold-rimmed glasses, dressed casually but exuding a wealthy aura.

Judging by the man's attire, he was undoubtedly from a rich family.

Evan nodded slightly at the young man.

The young man shook his head and sneered, "F-rank? E-rank? D-rank? What a waste of time."

Evan felt annoyed—he was an A-rank sculpting talent, practically a master upon entering the field. He retorted, "And what about you? What's your talent?"

With an air of arrogance, the young man replied, "I haven't awakened any talent, but I majored in interior sculptural design at university."

Ah, that explains it, Evan thought. Being able to afford university really is a privilege of the rich.

Evan responded with a mockingly deferential tone, laced with sarcasm, "Oh, a university student. My apologies for the oversight."

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