"So, Mister...Danviski? Was i-"

"The one and only".

"Right...Mister Danviski, your...resume here says that you excel in enduring even the most hardest trials, would you care to elaborate that?"

In a nondescript room, the usual office room, where there's a stock photo of a flower hanged up on the wall, grey themes for the walls and carpet, bleak furniture, of which there are two chairs and one table.

One of the chairs is occupied by a man of short stature, his eyes were lazy, his demeanor even more so, it was as if there were other places he could go right now, he would leave at the drop of a hat.

The interviewee in question, cleared his throat and answered. His voice rough, 

"Well, many times I had stood for days without resting even for a minute, and many times I refused to give in to the temptation of failure, as I know that would not only bring me shame, it would also bring me the cold embraces of death."

Mister Danviski had sharp eyes, he sat straight, his posture in an eveready state to counter any surprises should they come in his way. His physique was well built, as if he had spent years improving on just it.

"...right".

The sounds of pen against paper filled the room as the interviewer jotted down what he thought of the...peculiar answer.

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"Do you have any special skills that you can offer in our company?"

To this, Mr. Danviski lightened up, though that just meant he stood up in a flash, eager to showcase his abilities.

"Yes! I have many!"

He took a ceramic cup on the table of held it tightly. Then, he turned it around to the interviewer,

"As you can see, there are no strings here"

To further show this, he used his other hand to encircle the cup, indeed, there are no strings. The interviewer nodded.

"Observe."

Slowly, he pulled both his hands away from the cup, miraculously, it was held in the air, even the interviewer's eyes were slightly more opened to find the trick.

"Interesting, so, you learned some magic tricks that, has potential to enlighten the atmosphere. Any...other skills?"

The cup slowly floated to the table, while Mr. Danviski held his chin in thought.

"I have this."

He opened his palm, and an ember sprouted at the very middle of it.

The interviewer was not impressed. He taps his pen on the table while giving out his thoughts.

"More party tricks, listen, Mr. Danviski, you need to have something special that no one has, because right now, it seems that is the only thing that could land you this job."

Mr. Danviski seemed confused, then, he held out his hand to the interviewer,

"Can I borrow your pen, please?"

The interviewer sighed,

'If it's another useless trick he's out'.

As he received the pen, Mr. Danviski examined the pen, particularly the pointed tip of it, then, he pierced it in his palm. He pushed further until the pen went through the other side. Blood and flesh were visible as the interviewer went pale.

Not finished, Mr. Danviski pulled out the pen back, and then held his punctured palm to the interviewer.

"Watch closely."

His palm, although it bled till a steady flow of blood fell on top of the table and to the floor, shown in full view to the interviewer.

The hole closed, in a manner of seconds, the wound healed by itself and all that was left was the leftover blood dripping from the table to the carpet floor.

"Was that enough?"

The interviewer pale as snow, looked down at his white shirt, though now it was decorate with blotches of red, went even paler.

"...th-thank you Mr. Danviski."