He Chose the So-Called Sister Chapter 322: Trash-Talking

They didn't distort her features beyond recognition—that would've been too obvious. Instead, they color-corrected Sherry's photos until she looked like a real hag. Dark circles, sagging skin. Gilbert's mother, basically.

And they dragged Gilbert down with her.

Every now and then, they'd sigh, all fake pity, like, "Poor guy. Married to that thing—a total mom figure."

It solidified the belief that Sherry tricked him into marriage.

So when the real person stood before them, gorgeous, even celeb-level gorgeous, they didn't recognize her at all.

But their faces still soured. "Eavesdropping on people? You here to be a star or what? This gossipy—you'd make a better paparazzo."

Every industry had its hierarchy. Entertainment especially.

And this stunning woman made them look worse just by existing.

Caught red-handed trash-talking, and a prettier girl heard everything? Made them feel downright sleazy.

Yeah, sleazy as hell.

"Zero manners. Pretty face means nothing."

Sherry snorted, even more stunning now—she had that sweet, fresh-faced starlet look, yet her vibe was icy.

That mocking look—they'd seen it somewhere. Before they could place it, she spoke.

"So you beautiful people, trash-talking someone to her face—that's manners? Yours got eaten by your dogs?"

They scoffed, faces twisted mean—eye-rolls, lip curls, the works.

"You that hag? No way you're her. You're saying you're connected to Gilbert? Think you're hot stuff but can't land a rich guy, so you're jealous and crazy?"

"Crazy's right. Getting shipped from HQ to here? That's exile. Sherry's officially done."

"Let me guess—heard Julia moved into Harrison Manor too. I bet Sherry got kicked out too—booted so hard she rolled out!"

The group erupted.

"Genius! Why didn't I think of that? Failed to seduce, got banished. God, that's embarrassing. How's she even show her face?"

"If I were her, I'd catch the first train out. Before someone laughs in my face."

"Wrong. Thick skin's how she lasted at Harrison Manor. Our CEO is classy—won't humiliate employees publicly. Probably tried hinting she should leave, but she clung, so they had to send her somewhere else."

"If I heard people saying this about me, I'd already be gone. How do you actually show up?"

You could tell their minds were twisted. Their faces twisted with glee.

"Don't blame us for being blunt. You're ugly. Made yourself into... this. Well, human-shaped now. You think we're fooled? Anyone can spot plastic surgery. We're not pretty, but we're natural!!"

The chorus agreed.

"Shut your mouths."

Max had just walked over and heard them mouthing off at Sherry like they had a death wish.

Before, they were stupid. Now, they were suicidal.

Irene herself couldn't touch Sherry. And these bottom-feeders...

Gossiping, hating, stuck at the industry's floor. Zero effort, just tearing others down.

"Who hired them? Answer me!"

He drowned out Sherry completely.

It was her first time seeing Max lose his temper. In the company, he was that straight-laced, handsome guy with a playful personality.

At work, he was basically the office mascot, doing tasks even lower than an assistant's.

Every workplace had climbers and stompers.

But no one ever dismissed Max. No one called him "just a gofer."

That surprised her at HQ. These people's reaction? Even more telling.

Their cocky attitude vanished. One by one, they stood upright, even breaking out in cold sweat.

"Max! What brings you here? You should've told us; we'd have welcomed you properly—"

A woman oozed up, simpering.