It was past eleven in the morning, in the square at the Desire Restraint Center.
Leading more than twenty relatively normal "patient volunteers," Tang Feng consulted the medical records and selected over three hundred middle-aged men from a crowd of more than three thousand.
These three hundred-odd middle-aged men all met three main criteria: male, thirty-six to thirty-eight years old, and around 1.8 meters tall.
Once the preliminary selection was over, the patient volunteers coaxed those who had been "eliminated" back to their dormitories.
Tang Feng walked through the ranks of three hundred-odd men with his hands behind his back and began another round of screening.
"This one. This brother who looks like a turd can go back for his afternoon nap."
"And this one. His lower teeth are practically poking his nose. Too ugly, too ugly. Out."
"...!"
As he walked, he eliminated the ugly bastards.
These inexplicable rules immediately upset quite a few of those eliminated.
"Psychologist, sir, I have a question. This is supposed to be the Chef King Championship, so why are you discriminating against our looks?" a middle-aged man demanded, raising his hand. "Does being ugly mean we don't deserve to compete?"
"Are you telling me how to do my job?" Tang Feng asked, giving him a sidelong look.
"We have the right to reasonably question the rules. That's a right we're born with as human beings." The patient went straight into philosophy.
Tang Feng pointed at the man who had stuck his neck out and called to the lackeys nearby, "Increase his dosage and extend his treatment by two cycles."
Whoosh!
No sooner had he spoken than an elite doctor of the Huanglongjiang Lineage took a running start from eight meters away and planted a flying kick right on the protester's head.
Thud!
The