On the other hand, Alessandro, the highly confident candidate, was surprised when he never heard from iClub

again. 

The next week, Jack arrived at iClub's headquarters at 9 am. Giuliani, his new supervisor and an abstract art

enthusiast, warmly welcomed him. Giuliani then guided Jack to his new office, and then brought him a cup of tea.

She told Jack he would receive paid training for roughly 14 months.

After 14 months, he finished his training successfully, and he started to work as a junior designer.

One day, Jack ran into his former high school teacher, Mr. Monaghan, who had always encouraged him to be

disciplined. Shocked to hear about Jack’s prestigious new job, Mr. Monaghan wondered if this was the same

Jack Williams he knew.

Although now working as a junior designer, Jack continued to wear shabby clothes and rarely combed his

hair. After a year, Jack was finally given his first solo project: designing a pair of trousers for high school students.

One morning, Jack, looking like he’d just rolled out of bed, walked into a high school where there was a new

wing being built. A group of students burst into laughter as he passed, nudging each other and

whispering.

Jack ignored them and approached the closest student.

"Hey, I’m a designer at iClub," he said. "Mind if I ask you a few questions about fashion?"

The laughter cut off abruptly. The student’s smirk faltered. "Wait—you’re a designer? " He glanced at his

friends, then back at Jack. "No way. I thought you were coming to work at the construction site."

The others crowded around, their grins turning to skeptical curiosity. "You’re serious?" one asked, barely hiding a laugh.

"You actually work at iClub?"

"Yeah," Jack said, his voice flat. "And I’m designing trousers for students like you."

"You're kidding, you don't look like one, do you really know fashion design?"

"Of course, I'm the future king of hearts at iClub..."

One of them scoffed. "Future King of Hearts? But now you’re only the King of Spades. Pick up a spade and get back to work."

Jack’s face burned, his fists clenching at his sides. He forced a tight smile. "Believe what you want."

That night, the students’ laughter still rang in his ears. He sat at his desk, staring at a blank sketchpad, the

words echoing in his mind:

"I thought you were coming to work at the construction site."

His pencil dug into the paper, his strokes sharp and angry. "Fine," he muttered. He sketched furiously, his design taking shape—trousers that looked like they’d been dragged through a construction site— splattered with faux mud,

streaked with paint-like patterns, and stitched with seams that mimicked industrial overalls.

"Then that’s exactly what they’ll wear."

When Giuliani, who adored abstract art, saw it, her eyes lit up.

“Jack, this is brilliant! It’s ingenious. It’s… authentic. Where did you get such brilliant inspiration?”

Authentic? Jack blinked. He had designed it out of spite.

The trousers went into production. Marketing called it “Urban Grit.” Sales exploded.

The life of each design would be very short, no more than 6 months, after that it would be deemed as "out".

That's why iClub needed to release new designs every six months. 

The second project is to design a shirt for university students. The next day, Jack went to a nearby university

to talk to the students there. He talked to a guy: "I am a designer at iClub..." 

"Aren't you the beggar across the street?"

Most students said similar things.

Jack got back to his office and started his design. 

As he was going through the design process, the voice "you look like a beggar" repeatedly haunted his mind.

"You look like a Beggar! You look like a Beggar! ..."

The voices were torturing him. Then he heard another voice, "It's time for revenge. "

He mumbled resentfully as he was engaged in the design, "Very soon you will all look like beggars !"

After two weeks, Jack showed his work to his boss. Giuliani looked at it, it was full of holes on the front, full of

patches on the back, and full of splashes of dirt everywhere.

The pocket is located at the back instead of the front.

Nevertheless, his boss was much delighted when she saw the innovative design.

“Jack, you've done it again! This is genius! It’s exactly what I like.”

The production started. The shirt launched as “Street Echo.”

After two months, Jack was called into his boss's office. Giuliani told him it's another big success.

Jack was very happy and told his parents about this. He was planning to take his parents for a European

tour. He applied for leave for three weeks, which his boss happily approved. 

His boss told Jack there would be a youth fashion design competition held in the city in six weeks' time. All the top fashion houses would be taking part in the competition, including iClub. The management chose Jack as their representative designer.

The next week, Jack and his parents flew to Europe. They travelled to several countries there.

They enjoyed the trip very much.

They were halfway home when fate struck again. Their plane, en route over the Pacific, suffered a catastrophic malfunction and crash-landed on a remote island. There was nothing there, except tribesmen. These tribesmen hunted with spears, painted their faces with ash, and worshipped the sun, moon, and stars.

Jack and the other survivors were promptly captured and informed, with ceremonial gravity, that they were now part

of the tribe’s labour force.

One day, the tribal chief was inspecting everybody's luggage, when he came to Jack's, he found equipment

used by fashion designers. By this, he knew Jack was a fashion designer. He requested Jack to design a new

tribal chief robe for himself --- one which would reveal his authority and majesty, and to be embedded with

diamonds. From then on, Jack was exempted of manual labour; instead, he was to work with his design pen.

In order to give Jack some inspiration, the chief ordered his diamond collection curator to take Jack on a

diamond collection tour.

The curator showed Jack their showcases one by one, then they came to a special collection, they looked

extraordinary and eye catching, no one would doubt their high value. Waves of covetous feelings flowed

through Jack's mind. Unexpectedly a siren went off. The curator was alarmed and went out of the room to see

what had happened.

As the showcase became unguarded, the temptation in Jack's mind started expanding. The temptation

overwhelmed Jack. He thought there were so many diamonds there that taking one away, they wouldn't notice

it. He picked one of them and put it into his pocket. Unexpectedly, the curator came back into the room before

Jack completed the action, he asked jack, "What did you put into your pocket?" 

"Nothing."

The curator checked the showcase and discovered a diamond was missing. He accused Jack of theft. But

Jack denied it. The curator walked towards Jack, intending to inspect his pockets. But Jack turned around

and started running, and ran out of the room. The curator chased after Jack, keeping a close distance behind.

He sped and got closer and closer to Jack, though his hands still couldn't reach Jack's body; they were

close enough to get hold of a corner of his jacket. The curator grabbed it firmly, but Jack sped up. As a

result, a big piece was torn off from Jack's jacket!

Jack continued to speed, but some guards suddenly came out from a corner. When they saw Jack escaping,

they caught Jack.

Jack was brought to the tribal chief. The tribal chief was furious. He looked at Jack with eyes widely opened.

"Do you know, my friend, what's the consequence of stealing my diamonds, eh ?"

Jack was trembling, unable to say anything.

"It is death! Bring him to the execution ground!"

When Jack's parents learned of this news, they were shocked; but they didn't know what to do. 

Jack was brought to the execution ground and tied to a post.

As the tribal chief gave the order, the executioner, with a sword in his hand, started to walk towards Jack. As

the executioner raised his sword in the air, suddenly there came an explosion!

The executioner fell to the ground, as did many other tribesmen there. The explosion was caused by a

grenade, a grenade from a rescue army coming to rescue the plane survivors. Although the explosion was not

strong enough to kill, Jack and some other tribesmen were injured. 

The tribesmen were no match for the rescue army. Finally, the rescue army succeeded in their mission.

Within hours, the survivors were airlifted out — sunburned, shaken, and grateful to be alive. Jack and the other

survivors were brought back home safely.

After twelve hours or so, Jack arrived home. He was exhausted, as he didn't sleep for a day. He put on his

pyjama, placed all the clothes he wore in the Pacific island on his design desk, and jumped into bed right

away.

The next morning, the telephone kept ringing and ringing. The call was from Giuliani, but Jack was too tired to

answer it. At last, her mother answered it.

After five minutes, a courier arrived at the door. Her mother opened the door, after an exchange of

words, she entered Jack's room and asked Jack where the dress he designed for the competition was. Jack, half

asleep, misunderstood her and told her it was on his design desk.

His mother took him at his word, but in the confusion the wrong package was sent off — Oh no, the tattered, badly damaged outfit Jack had worn on the Pacific island ended up at the competition venue instead!