Overhaul strides into a small, quiet café after a particularly long meeting, his gaze focused and intense. He walks up to the counter, where the barista nervously greets him, handing him a cup of coffee. Without a word, he takes it, but as he begins to sip, his face contorts into a frown. It’s cold.

He sets the cup down with a sharp, decisive motion. The barista watches, a nervous bead of sweat forming on their forehead. “I’ll have a fresh one,” Overhaul states, his voice low but firm. The barista quickly scrambles behind the counter to make a new coffee, the tension palpable in the air. Overhaul remains perfectly still, watching them with unwavering intensity. “I don’t tolerate mistakes,” he mutters under his breath, the entire café now feeling the pressure of his presence.