Starting to Gain Experience from Push-Ups Chapter 1223 - 594
Previously on Starting to Gain Experience from Push-Ups...
Following the sound, Fang Cheng's gaze lifted.
He could distinctly sense a sharp, piercing look emanating from the dimly lit corners, fixing directly upon him.
This was no mere glance; it felt like a substantive appraisal, imbued with the palpable pressure of someone long accustomed to wielding authority.
Despite its ample size, the interrogation room was devoid of windows, contributing to an atmosphere of profound coldness and gloom.
A solitary overhead lamp provided a weak, yellowish illumination, managing to light up barely more than half the space.
Precisely in the center of this meager pool of light stood a stark metal chair.
Several meters away, positioned behind a broad interrogation table, sat the individual who had just broken the silence.
Upon the table, alongside the Ancient Bronze Bell, were a laptop, a mechanical timer, a pen, and a score sheet.
The junior staff member who had escorted Fang Cheng entered the room and proceeded directly to the left side of the table, drawing out a chair to sit.
With practiced movements, he typed a few entries into the laptop, seemingly documenting information.
It was clear he was one of the interview's evaluators.
The examiner seated to his right, however, remained largely obscured by the shadows where the light failed to reach.
It was as though an invisible barrier, perhaps an energy field, distorted perception, preventing a clear view.
Not only was their silhouette indistinct, but the very air around them seemed to waver and distort.
The figure was akin to a colossal, dormant iceberg, radiating an enigmatic aura that implicitly warned others against drawing closer, its facial features completely unreadable.
Only the hands resting on the table were vaguely discernible – hands with skin dry and cracked like ancient tree bark, and knuckles thick and powerful.
The impression given was that of a master of external martial arts, one who had dedicated many years to rigorous training.
Fang Cheng adjusted the golden spectacles perched on his nose.
A fleeting glint of golden light flashed deep within his pupils before vanishing.
Aided by this extraordinary visual acuity, the oppressive darkness dissolved as if it were mere wisps of fog.
The examiner’s form sharpened slightly in his perception.
A hooked nose, pronounced nasolabial folds, and temples touched with gray.
It was evident that the examiner was quite advanced in age, yet their eyes remained as piercing and sharp as newly honed blades, fixed intently upon him.
Fang Cheng immediately detected the aura of quiet authority emanating from the elder man, an authority that seemed to require no overt display of anger.
He swiftly averted his gaze, refraining from further probing to avoid triggering any unnecessary alarm.
Affecting an air of nonchalance, he approached the metal chair and offered a slight bow:
"Greetings, examiner. I am candidate number 263, here to apply for the medical position within the Special Search Team."
"Welcome, candidate. We extend our greetings to you for today's interview," the younger examiner replied first, his tone entirely professional.
Once Fang Cheng was seated, the younger examiner commenced reading the established protocols:
"This interview employs a double-blind system. The examiners have no access to your name or personal identification, knowing you only by your interview number; conversely, you are not required to know our identities."
"The entirety of this process is being recorded and filmed. To comply with regulations, please refrain from disclosing any names, examination numbers, affiliations, or educational institutions. Any violation will be considered a breach of the rules."
"Are you prepared to proceed?"
Fang Cheng offered a nod, signaling his understanding.
This strict anonymity serves a dual purpose: preventing favoritism and safeguarding the examiners from potential retribution by disgruntled candidates should they fail.
"Very well, the interview officially commences now."
Having received Fang Cheng’s affirmation, the younger examiner concluded his remarks and activated the mechanical timer on the table.
"Tick... tick."
The sound of the second hand sweeping across the room seemed to echo infinitely, each tick resonating like a jolt against the nerves.
Simultaneously, a faint noise emanated from a corner of the room.
Accompanied by a soft "beep," a dazzling point of red light flickered to life.
A camera, its indicator light glowing red, began silently documenting every event unfolding within the space.
The elder examiner, still partially shrouded in shadow, leaned forward slightly.
His gaze, sharp and intense, swept over Fang Cheng like a predator scrutinizing its cornered prey.
This penetrating stare persisted for a full ten seconds, its psychological pressure sufficient to overwhelm an average individual, leaving them disoriented.
Fang Cheng, however, remained seated with composure, his hands resting idly on his knees, his gaze steady and direct, betraying no sign of discomfort or evasion.
"Remarkable psychological fortitude," the elder examiner suddenly remarked, his voice a low, gravelly resonance that carried the weight of long-held authority.
"You have applied for the medical post... it suggests a profound confidence in your medical expertise."
"Typically, aspiring medical professionals speak of benevolence, professing a desire to heal the world as their ultimate ambition. I am curious if your aspirations align with such sentiments."
Fang Cheng subtly shifted forward, his response delivered with measured humility:
"To treat illness and preserve life is the fundamental duty of a physician. While I would hesitate to claim true benevolence, I pledge to exert my utmost effort."
"Your utmost effort?"
The old examiner scoffed dismissively, his tone laced with thinly veiled skepticism.
However, he did not pursue this line of questioning, electing instead to immediately present a new inquiry:
"Young man, discard those lofty phrases. State plainly, what drives your insistence on joining the Special Search Team?" His tone carried the weight of an interrogation rather than an interview, as if probing a suspect harboring sinister motives for infiltration. Fang Cheng paused, then offered a rehearsed response: "For my future." He adjusted his spectacles, meeting the examiner's gaze directly. "The Special Search Team represents national authority, enjoying considerable societal prestige and substantial financial rewards." "I am convinced that with my medical expertise, I can secure superior resources and a more robust developmental framework here than in a standard hospital, thereby actualizing my life's potential." This response avoided empty platitudes of 'serving the people' while also sidestepping overt materialism. Instead, it subtly highlighted the ambition and pragmatic outlook expected of a young individual. The elder examiner tapped the table noncommittally before posing the next query: "Imagine a critical mission where your team leader suffers severe injury and requires immediate medical attention. Simultaneously, a criminal, also critically wounded, possesses vital intelligence concerning an impending terrorist attack. What is your course of action?"