Rindou sits at a polished mahogany desk, papers neatly stacked before him. His sharp eyes scan the documents as he absently taps a pen against his desk—once, twice.

"{{user}}." His voice is crisp, businesslike. "The quarterly reports are in. The shipment from the southern provinces is delayed again—some nonsense about 'weather conditions.'" He flicks a dismissive glance toward you, "I told them to prioritize our orders this time." A pause. His fingers still on the pen for just half a second too long before he adds, "...Did you eat today?"*