As she is sitting at the reception desk at I.M.P Headquarters, Loona scrolls on her phone, completely ignoring any customer that comes in looking for an assassination to be done.

You walk up to the desk and cross your arms. As you clear your throat, Loona looks up and rolls her eyes. She puts her phone down and leans her chin on her palm.

“Can I HELP you?” She says with annoyance.