Elements Of Programming Interviews: The Insiders' Guide C++

I have always had an almost pathological sense of paranoia. Ever since I was a child, I was convinced that the people around me were out to get me. Back in elementary school, when everyone was lining up for their student ID photos, I flatly refused to have mine taken. I insisted that the district office was going to use my picture for identity theft. The situation escalated so badly that the principal had to personally sit me down and spend half an hour trying to convince me otherwise. Then, there was the fingerprint registration system in middle school. The school required every student to submit their fingerprints to access the campus buildings. I was so terrified that someone would steal my biometric data that I literally rubbed the skin off all ten fingertips to make them unreadable. Even when my fingers were bleeding, I kept shouting that they were trying to steal my identity. I would rather climb over the school fence every day than cooperate. Every relative I had called me crazy. My parents were so fed up that they seriously considered having me admitted to a psychiatric hospital. I did not care. I guarded my privacy with obsessive determination, gritting my teeth and holding my ground all the way up to the eve of the final exams. Then came the day before the exam. That afternoon, our homeroom teacher, Tracy Collins, walked into the classroom carrying a metal lockbox. A warm, motherly smile spread across her face as she set it down on the desk. "Everyone," she said, "to make sure nobody forgets their documents tomorrow, I'd like you to hand over your IDs and exam admission slips for safekeeping tonight." She patted the lockbox reassuringly. "Tomorrow morning, I'll personally return them to each of you outside the testing center. This way, there's absolutely nothing that can go wrong." The class was deeply moved by her thoughtfulness. Some students even looked close to tears as they eagerly pulled out their documents and lined up to hand them over. Everyone except me. My hand clamped down over my pocket so tightly that my knuckles turned white. Cold sweat poured down my back. A sharp alarm bell was ringing in my head. Trying not to attract attention, I fished out a spare flip phone from my bag, ducked beneath my desk, and dialed emergency services. As soon as the call connected, I lowered my voice and spoke into the receiver. "Hello. I'd like to report a crime. My name is Charles. "I believe a teacher at St. Alden High is working with an identity-fraud ring and is planning a large-scale operation tonight involving examination fraud and identity theft."

The new intern always claimed to have the company’s best interests at heart, but her actions told a different story. To cut costs, she secretly swapped the two-thousand-dollar gift basket I had prepared for a client with a knockoff version she bought online for just two dollars, shipping included. During a critical overtime session, she turned off the power to save on electricity. Then, she boldly suggested canceling the company’s annual holiday leave. With a self-righteous expression, she declared, “The company doesn’t support freeloaders. I believe the holiday season is the perfect time to boost sales. I propose everyone work unpaid overtime and dedicate themselves selflessly to the company!” While the employees grumbled in frustration, I stepped up to refute her absurd suggestion and spoke out on behalf of the team. But instead of backing down, she accused me of embezzlement in front of everyone and recommended to the boss that I be fired. The shocking part? The boss agreed. Fine. If that was how they wanted it, I couldn’t wait to see how the company would function without me.

After I secured early admission to one of the country's most prestigious universities, my old high school invited me back to sit for the State Scholars Exam and compete for the top statewide score. But just ten minutes into the math paper, the proctor out of nowhere accused me of cheating. "Everyone else starts with the multiple-choice section. You went straight for the proofs. Were you planning to copy someone else's answers later?" Before I could explain a single word, he dragged me into the boys' restroom. Not only was I humiliated and forced to strip, I also had to let him inspect me over and over again to confirm that I had no cheating devices on my body. After I returned to the exam room, I decided it was better not to cause more trouble, so I started from the multiple-choice section like everyone else. But less than five minutes after I sat down, he yanked me up again. "This is even more fake. You didn't even take time to read or think through the questions before writing down the options. If that isn't cheating, what is?" "I suspect you knew the answers in advance. I'm reporting this to the exam board right now and having your exam qualification revoked!"

The company just hired a clueless new intern. For a contract worth millions, she misplaced a decimal point and practically handed it over for one dollar. I chased after the high-speed train and drank until my stomach bled before I managed to recover the company's losses. While I was still in the hospital, she ran to my fiance, Edward Cooper, to complain. "I've always been bad at math. How was I supposed to know something like that!" Edward smiled at her dotingly, replying, "You just lack experience. Go ahead and do whatever you want. If anything goes wrong, Zoe will take the blame." I was so furious I nearly quit on the spot. To so-call "make it up to me," Jenny insisted on cleaning my office as an apology. She ended up throwing newly approved bidding proposals straight into the shredder. The company lost hundreds of millions. I was fired and sued. I ended up in prison, where I was tortured to death by inmates. As I lay there on my last breath, I heard Jenny crying once more. "If only I were smarter… maybe Zoe would still be alive?" Edward stroked her head gently, soothing her, "She was incompetent. She couldn't even keep track of her documents. You're still young. You don't need to blame yourself." I died of anger. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day Jenny first joined the company.

The college entrance exam began, and I waited nervously for the papers to be handed out. Just as I was about to take the test paper from the invigilator, a floating line of text suddenly drifted across my vision. [Don't take it. The paper is coated with deadly poison. You'll die the moment you touch it.] Before my mind could even process what was happening, pure survival instinct made my hand jerk back. The paper slipped from my grasp and fell to the ground. I stiffly met with the invigilator's lifeless, mechanical eyes. He stared at me without blinking, then slowly bent down, picked up the test paper, flipped it over, and placed it back on my desk. "Good luck on your exam." His cold voice snapped me out of the fear brought on by that strange message. Just as I was starting to think that it was nothing more than nerves playing tricks on my eyes, the exam hall speakers started playing instructions. "The listening test will now begin. Please mark your answers on the corresponding answer sheet. The papers will be collected in 15 minutes. Anyone who fails to submit on time will be eliminated!" A wave of terror instantly overwhelmed me.

Caitlin Wiggins' assistant, Bryan Shepard, complains about a client's bad breath, causing the company's project to be ruined. I do everything I can to help Bryan salvage the situation. But all I do is remind Bryan to watch his words, and yet he has the audacity to pin the blame on me. "Zane, your incapability is the reason why the client got mad at us. I used my family's resources to help you salvage the situation out of the kindness of my heart, you know! How could you accuse me like that?" Despite knowing the truth, Caitlin still chooses to side with Bryan. The punishment she issues me is a one-month suspension from my position. On top of that, I need to transfer the project to Bryan. Everyone in the meeting room turns to look at me. They think I'll definitely argue with Caitlin and fight for my rights. But I just hand over the rights of the project to Bryan obediently. Seeing as I've finally learned my lesson, Caitlin happily promises me that she'll marry me once the project turns out to be a huge success and that she gets promoted to the CEO's position. But what she doesn't know is that the client isn't Bryan's relative at all, but rather, my own uncle, Donovan Eaton. It all depends on me whether or not he wishes to continue working with Caitlin's company. In fact, I don't plan on helping Caitlin clean up her mess anymore. When the time comes, not only will she lose her promotion, but she'll also get kicked out of the company.