Chapter 729
729:
Arthur wasn’t just skilled—he was a veteran in the fashion world. Surely, someone still in the middle of dyeing a basic white shirt couldn’t possibly outdo him.
But just as he dismissed the notion, something unexpected happened. Dustin’s breath caught.
The designer who had spent the entire time focused on dyeing suddenly paused and began to lift the shirt from the bucket, droplets of paint trailing off the hem. Rather than wring it out, she reached for a pair of scissors without hesitation and began snipping along both side seams of the still-damp fabric.
“Why is Contestant No. 3 cutting it up? Did they just give up and decide to play around?”
“That shirt’s soaked—shouldn’t they dry it first?”
“They don’t have time for that! The round’s almost over!”
“Well, at least they’ll look busy for the rest of the event. Beats sitting around doing nothing.”
“What a complete waste—of time, of materials, of effort.”
“Hold on—look at what they’re doing now! They’re stitching it!”
Carefully, Linsey separated the soaked shirt into two pieces and laid them out, smoothing them flat before suspending them carefully on her workstation.
Without missing a beat, she reached for a spool of dark thread, slid it cleanly through a needle, and tied off the end.
Leaning slightly over her workspace, she pressed one hand on the fabric for balance while guiding the needle with the other. She pierced the cloth with pinpoint accuracy, then—
C𝒉𝑒ck ⓐuthor’s ⓒo𝓹𝓎 h𝑒r𝑒: gⲁ𝗅𝗇𝗈ν𝖊𝗅𝘀⫷𝓬𝗈𝗺
She brought the needle back out at another exact spot, already beginning the next step of her design.
Linsey kept her focus sharp, her gaze fixed on every precise movement of the needle. There was no hesitation, no wasted motion—just the smooth, practiced rhythm of someone deeply familiar with the craft.
“That’s odd. The competition staff gave every contestant a sewing machine for their station, didn’t they? Aren’t machines supposed to be quicker than hand stitching? So why is that designer choosing to sew everything by hand?” Dustin whispered, rubbing his chin in puzzlement.
Without taking his eyes off the screen, Collin responded coldly, “They’re faster than the machine.”
That statement landed like a thunderclap.
Dustin blinked in disbelief, watching the footage again. Her fingers moved with such velocity that the needle appeared to vanish and reappear in entirely new places. He could barely follow her movements.
Beside him, Collin let a few seconds pass before speaking again. “And their hand-stitching has a flow to it—a softness that machines can’t replicate.”
Right then, a vivid image began to take shape across the dyed fabric. After securing the final stitch, Linsey swiftly shifted to the next area, needle already poised for her next move.
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