Impact

Among the sixth group, several of the print models were even more striking in appearance; to call them exceptionally handsome would be no exaggeration.

Zhang Yang walked over. Although he could be considered quite handsome with well-defined features, he seemed somewhat unremarkable when placed among this group of professional models who relied entirely on their looks to make a living.

"Hey buddy, which modeling agency are you with?" one of the Japanese-style handsome guys asked Zhang Yang out of curiosity.

"Me?" Zhang Yang chuckled. "I don't have an agency. I just saw they were hiring print models and wanted to pick up some part-time work."

The others looked enlightened. "Oh, so you're a freelance model!"

No one considered Zhang Yang a competitor. After all, he had no agency, no experience, and his overall looks weren't particularly outstanding; he was likely just here to make up the numbers.

The large conference room at Aisha Fashion had been converted into an interview site.

To maximize speed and efficiency, they were called in batch by batch.

Zhang Yang waited outside, bored, watching batch after batch of striking, handsome men go in and come out like an assembly line, feeling a bit cynical.

So what if you're handsome? You're still just being picked over by others.

Fortunately, he didn't rely on his looks to eat. Coming out to do part-time work was just for the sake of a mission and experience points.

Finally, the fifth group went in, and they were next.

The guys in his group—Japanese style, Korean style, and Western style—all rolled up their sleeves, preparing to enter.

"I heard the fashion director for Aisha Fashion, Irene, is overseeing things today. She's a famous devil in heels!"

"Hiss, that woman has a vicious eye and high standards. I'm suddenly feeling unsure of myself."

Amidst the chatter, the people from the fifth group began to emerge one after another.

"Sixth group, the sixth group, go in," the staff member shouted loudly outside.

Zhang Yang kept a calm mindset and followed them inside.

Inside the spacious venue, in the center of the interview desk, a stunning woman with a powerful aura was scrutinizing them. The interviewers beside her seemed like mere background noise, and they all seemed afraid to even breathe too loudly.

"Director Irene, these are the basic details for the sixth group of models." A staff member to the side bowed, offering the resumes with a face full of smiles.

Irene, known in the company as the fashion devil, flipped through the resumes, then looked up to compare them one by one, her brows knitting slightly.

The people beside her didn't dare to make a sound.

"There are clothes over there. Everyone, go change," Irene said, no longer looking at the resumes and pointing toward the distance.

Staff members immediately brought out the clothing needed for this shoot and arranged for them to change.

The print models in the sixth group exchanged glances, then took off their jackets to prepare for the change.

"Take off the inner layers too. Nothing on the upper body," Irene said flatly, tapping her pen on the table.

The men were stunned for a moment, but they still efficiently stripped off their shirts or T-shirts.

Under the lights, their physiques were indeed varied.

There were the lean, fair-skinned Japanese and Korean types, and the tall, muscular Western types. Regardless of their other muscles, their abs were all quite visible.

After all, by the standards of the average person, having abs equals having muscle.

Irene calmly sized up the men before her, occasionally whispering and exchanging views with the staff beside her, nodding and shaking her head as if judging their suitability.

"You over there, why aren't you changing?" Soon, everyone in the room noticed Zhang Yang, who was hesitating.

Of course Zhang Yang was hesitating.

Stripping down to show off his body in front of everyone—he wasn't a professional print model, after all, and couldn't be that uninhibited.

At this moment, having barely managed to build up his psychological defenses, Zhang Yang finally began to take off his top.

"Your name is Zhang Yang, right? I see on your resume that you have no industry experience. Is that correct?" Irene stared at the figure before her, checking the resume, and asked very directly.

"Yes." Zhang Yang didn't deny it, nodding in admission.

"If you have no industry experience, I'm afraid you aren't suitable for us. After all, we really need..." Irene's sentence came to an abrupt halt as she stared straight at Zhang Yang, who had just removed his jacket.

It hadn't been obvious while he was wearing the jacket, but now that it was off, the muscle definition on his body could no longer be hidden by a T-shirt.

Then, he reached up and pulled off his T-shirt.

Suddenly, a suppressed gasp erupted from the surroundings.

"Holy crap!"

"This physique, this meticulously sculpted physique!"

"Perfect! This body is invincible, simply flawless, absolutely perfect."

Everyone stared, dumbfounded, at the broad shoulders, narrow waist, and invincible physique where every muscle line was incredibly clear, unable to stop their exclamations.

Yes, the face above the neck didn't look particularly eye-catching.

But from the neck down, it was simply flawless—a total game-changer. In the print modeling industry, this was a gift from the heavens.

"It's you!" Irene slammed the resume onto the table.

Who cares about resumes? Who cares about work experience?

All that matters is whether this person is the right fit.

It is not that print models must have muscles, but the theme and style of this shoot destined them to need this specific type of male model.

The visual impact of such a perfect physique fit their shooting theme almost flawlessly.

The guys from the sixth group were all dumbfounded.

"What kind of newcomer is this? This is clearly a max-level veteran trolling us in the newbie village, right?"

"Thought he was a bronze, turns out he's a challenger!"

"How the hell do you even train to get like this?"

No one in the modeling industry neglects their physique, but everyone has different goals; some aim for a balanced silhouette, while others pursue muscle gain.

However, anyone who has dabbled in fitness knows that a physique like this is one in a million!

Forget it, let's go!

"That's it?" Zhang Yang himself was somewhat surprised.

As a complete novice with zero work experience, he had come with a "why not try it" attitude, and he passed the first round just like that?

It seemed he had severely underestimated the power of his own physique.

While his looks were only at the average level for a male model, his physique was at a peak level, one in a million. For someone like him to interview for a mere print modeling gig, wasn't that just an instant sweep of the entire field?

"Make an announcement, the interviews are over for today." Irene summoned her assistant and gave the order.

"Ah? Sister Irene, shouldn't we at least finish seeing the rest? Wouldn't that be a bit inappropriate?" the assistant asked, hesitating.

"No need to look further. This is the one who fits my standards best; there won't be anyone more suitable." Irene shook her head decisively, then looked at Zhang Yang. "You guys go handle the coordination, prepare for the shoot this afternoon. Oh, and pay him the highest hourly rate."

She stood up and left first, though she couldn't help but steal a few more glances at Zhang Yang before departing.

A moment later, Zhang Yang finished coordinating with the staff from Aisha Fashion.

Originally, the pay for this gig was calculated at five hundred per day, but since the Director Irene of Aisha Fashion Weekly had personally spoken, Zhang Yang would be paid by the hour at the highest standard rate.

All in all, just for completing this afternoon's shoot, the pay would be fifteen hundred.

Being a male model really is a quick way to make money, Zhang Yang thought happily.

He did the math; he had a ten-thousand-yuan gap in his part-time income, and just like that, he had already cleared fifteen hundred in one afternoon. The progress was lightning fast!

However, he didn't get carried away. He was only doing this part-time job to complete a task. Make a career out of this? Are you kidding? He, Old Zhang, was a man with an annual income of nearly twenty million; why would he play around with this?