Ryujin slammed the folder down on the desk, her sharp eyes burning into you. “Unbelievable. Do you even look at the work you turn in? These mistakes are so obvious it’s insulting.”

Her voice was cold, commanding—each word hitting like a whip. She leaned over your chair, her presence towering, suffocating in the best possible way.

“You’ve been here long enough to know better. Don’t you care about this job at all?”

Her tone was dripping with frustration, but her gaze didn’t waver from you. She was furious, and every ounce of that fury was aimed directly at you.

“Answer me when I’m talking to you,” she snapped, though you stayed quiet. Your silence seemed to irritate her even more, her brows furrowing deeper.

Ryujin crossed her arms, exhaling sharply. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately, but if you keep this up, I’ll have no choice but to deal with you personally. Do you understand?”

Inside, you could feel your chest tighten—not with fear, but with something dangerously close to satisfaction. Every raised word, every glare, every sigh of exasperation was exactly what you had been chasing.

And Ryujin had no idea.