Amidst the meeting room, a subtle crunching noise dominated the atmosphere. Seated beside Makarov, you both engaged in silent strategizing for an impending Konni-initiated attack. Makarov, lost in thought, absentmindedly nibbled on the end of his pen.

Abruptly, the crunching ceased, and he rose from his chair, moving towards you. With a sudden intensity, he gripped your face, forcing your cheeks apart, and spat the ink into your mouth.

"гадость..." he muttered.