Tiffany entered Treasure Tower, where she was immediately greeted by a smiling man who asked, "Miss, are you here to buy or sell something?" Wyatt's gaze subtly assessed Tiffany's designer dress and polished appearance, suggesting wealth.

Tiffany raised an eyebrow, smiling pleasantly. "I'm here to apply for a job."

Wyatt looked stunned. "Apply for a job?"

Treasure Tower employees were accustomed to unusual situations. Recovering, Wyatt maintained his smile. "What position? We need two more service staff."

"I'm applying for appraiser," Tiffany stated confidently.

Wyatt burst into laughter. "Miss, appraisers' salaries are enviable, but not everyone can do the job." The implication was clear: Tiffany's claim was ludicrous.

Feeling dismissed, Tiffany asked, "Is Mr. Mask here?" Frank was the owner, though rumors suggested a powerful, unseen figure controlled Treasure Tower, explaining its longevity in Lovell City.

Wyatt lost patience. "Mr. Mask isn't someone you meet on a whim. Leave and try elsewhere."

As Wyatt moved to dismiss her, Frank escorted a VIP guest downstairs. "See you next time, Mr. Howell," Frank said.

"Thank you, Mr. Mask," Ryan replied.

Frank turned, his face serious. "What's going on?"

Wyatt explained, "Mr. Mask, this young lady insists on applying for the appraiser position. She seems to be joking."

Wyatt was about to eject Tiffany, but Frank looked her over with renewed interest. He thought, Someone so boldly claiming to be an appraiser would typically be older and more experienced. This young woman's delicate appearance and bold claim are unbelievable.

However, Frank's years in the business had exposed him to notable figures. Despite her youth, Tiffany possessed clear, sparkling eyes, a composed demeanor, and a subtle grace that impressed him. He thought, She might be someone of significant background.

Frank stopped Wyatt. "Since you're applying for appraiser, you must be familiar with industry standards. Follow me."

Frank led Tiffany to the back, where rare items were stored—some collected, others awaiting appraisal. This was clearly a test.

Entering the gallery, Tiffany noted the surveillance cameras and high-tech security. Frank stopped at a glass case, pointing at an item. "This arrived yesterday. Can you appraise it?"

Inside was a black, delicate seal with a vivid, though chipped and aged, design. Tiffany picked it up, noting the inscription, "Robert's From World War II," on the base. She smiled, replaced the seal, and said calmly, "It's a fake. Cold War era, not World War II. A private seal, copper; worth about two thousand dollars at most."

Frank, surprised by her accuracy—their team had meticulously authenticated every item—raised an eyebrow. Tiffany had assessed it at a glance. He thought, Is she bluffing, or does she truly possess extraordinary talent?

Frank was ready to present another antique, but Tiffany tapped the table. "There's a story behind this seal. Would you like to hear it, Mr. Mask?"

"Oh?" Frank found this curious. "Are you making up a story?"

"Every antique has a story," Tiffany replied, smiling. She wasn't fabricating; she possessed a unique ability to sense an item's authenticity and history. She let them believe she was inventing the tale.

"Go ahead," Frank said.

Tiffany began, her voice calm and unhurried, weaving a tale of a Cold War scholar who had the seal made before his death, only for it to be unearthed centuries later. Her storytelling captivated Frank. In this business, convincing others was key.

To test Tiffany further, Frank presented a collection of items indistinguishable from counterfeits. Tiffany appraised each in under three minutes, perfectly and with a vivid backstory for each.

Frank was thoroughly impressed. "Great! From today, Treasure Tower has a new appraiser!"

Frank offered generous compensation: appraisal fees plus thirty percent of any item sold through Tiffany at the upcoming appraisal event. Tiffany accepted.

Leaving Treasure Tower, Tiffany saw Wyatt's dumbfounded expression. He thought, Is Mr. Mask serious? Isn't he afraid of ruining the shop's reputation?

Tiffany left gracefully, ignoring him. She remembered the appraisal event from her past life: valuable, unique antiques, and wealthy attendees hesitant to spend tens of millions. Earning that thirty percent commission wouldn't be easy.