Irate Reporter

"You're fired. Don't come to work tomorrow."

This wasn't because Richard had acted on a whim. In truth, he had long noticed that the cleaner at his agency wasn't exactly honest. It wasn't that the fat man was a bad person, but he was especially petty and loved taking small advantages—the kind of short-sighted, selfish little bourgeois people often talked about.

Over time, most people at the newspaper had come to dislike him, and Richard, as the boss, naturally saw it all. Still, he was only a lowly cleaner. When he occasionally took some minor advantage, everyone just let it slide. No one had the time to nitpick with him.

But today, someone who was willing to nitpick with him had shown up. This beautiful new reporter was completely unlike what she looked like on the outside—she was like a walking powder keg. Rudy had finally run into someone tough today. As the crowd watched, most of them were actually more inclined to side with the newcomer than with Rudy, who had worked at the newspaper for over a year.

Someone should have done this ages ago. That was what everyone was thinking.

So when the boss personally stepped in and said he was going to fire the guy, nearly everyone had the exact same thought at once—

—Awesome!

It was immensely satisfying.

Even the girl who had been arguing looked at her new boss in surprise. She had assumed that he probably wouldn't speak up for a newcomer like her. Who would have thought that not only would he back her up, but he would fire the fat man the moment he opened his mouth?

Now that the man had lost his job, she felt there was nothing more to be dissatisfied about. She decided to let the matter end there. So she let go and chose not to pursue it further.

But Rudy didn't see it that way. He didn't even spare a thought for the wrist that had been squeezed red, jumping up in panic instead. "Boss! I really didn't eat that woman's lunch! I swear..."

Richard sneered. "Who asked whether you stole her things? I just suddenly felt like firing you. What, got a problem with that?"

Rudy: "..."

"That settles it. Everyone else, disperse. Have you all finished your articles? Bring me the finished ones so I can take a look."

The moment Richard said that, the onlookers hurriedly scattered. Anyone who had experienced it knew that having the boss revise their articles was an extremely painful ordeal. Their boss's standards for copy were absurdly high. He would send you back to revise it again and again, and after you had made a whole bunch of revisions, he would find a pile of problems he hadn't noticed the first time when you brought it back for inspection. Then, on the third pass, he would find problems neither of the first two passes had caught...

At times like that, you couldn't help thinking—Would it kill you to say it all at once?

Do you think this is a graduation thesis?

Luckily, the boss normally didn't review articles. That was usually the editors' job. The scary thing was when he suddenly got a whim one day and came into the office saying, "Hey, you—yeah, you. Let me see that article about whatever-it-was."

What? You hadn't finished it? What the hell had you been doing, dragging it out this long without finishing? Didn't you want your bonus anymore?

Whenever that happened, everyone else in the office would pause their work, silently observe three seconds of mourning for the lucky reporter randomly selected, then thank their stars that it wasn't them...

Thus, under Richard's threat, the gawkers quickly dispersed in a rush. Those revising articles went back to revising articles, and those making calls went back to making calls. In an instant, the office became bustling again.

Richard pointed at the new reporter one last time. "You, come here."

He had fired the cleaner because many employees at the newspaper had already been unhappy with him, but that didn't mean the matter was entirely settled. Though it wasn't serious, this reporter had used violence, more or less. As the boss, he ought to say something about it.

The reporter came into his office looking calm and composed, without the slightest awareness that she had done anything wrong. She even seemed a little... impatient?

Richard pulled out the girl's résumé—it had been delivered to his office before the newcomer had arrived to report for work, but he had been too lazy to read it.

When he opened the résumé and saw the name in the top field...

"Jessica Jones?" Richard looked up in surprise. "You're Jessica Jones?"

The girl blinked her distinctive large black eyes. "Yeah. What about it? You know me?"

Of course he knew her. This girl had a comic-book TV series named after her. How could Richard not know her?

Richard had watched the American series Jessica Jones, though he hadn't finished it. He didn't remember the details very clearly, only that the protagonist, Jessica Jones, was a superhuman with super strength and super endurance. She had a terrible personality and a fiery temper, was quite beautiful, but had somewhat sloppy living habits.

Looking closely, this reporter really did resemble Jessica. She was just a few years younger than Richard remembered. But that made sense, since the timeline of the TV series Jessica Jones was several years later.

But if Richard remembered correctly, wasn't Jessica Jones supposed to be a private detective? He remembered that Jessica seemed to have opened some kind of "Alias Detective Agency." Why had she come here to be a reporter?

Richard glanced over her résumé. "You worked at a magazine before?"

"Mm."

"Weekly Fashion. That should be a pretty good magazine." Richard looked thoughtful. "Why didn't you keep working there?"

"Because some asshole there harassed me every other day." Jessica recounted it expressionlessly. "I shoved him."

Richard could imagine what a "shove" meant by Jessica Jones's standards. In the worst-case scenario, that unlucky guy might have ended up in the hospital for a week.

"Uh, all right." Richard continued flipping through the résumé. "Then I see you worked at a radio station afterward... Trish Says? That's a popular show. That job should have been pretty good too, right?"

"I'm fairly close with the host," Jessica said blandly. "She introduced me to it."

Only then did Richard seem to remember. Trish Walker, the radio host of Trish Says, seemed to be Jessica's childhood best friend. She had probably introduced Jessica to the magazine job as well.

"The pay at the radio station should have been pretty good too," Richard said. "Why didn't you keep working there either?"

Jessica Jones's face remained as still as a placid lake. "Because some fat-headed asshole of a sponsor tried to grope Trish. I taught him a little lesson."

Richard: "..."