The supervisor sized Ariel up, his eyes filled with undisguised contempt and scrutiny, as if he were evaluating a piece of cargo, finally reaching a conclusion—worthless.
His 'Mediterranean' hairstyle glistened with grease under the base's pale lights, every surviving strand of hair drooping oilily. Coupled with his protruding belly from years of sedentary work, his entire being exuded a decaying and self-satisfied aura.
"Looking for an actor to slack off?"
The supervisor sneered, his voice sounding like a broken gong that had been excessively soaked in tobacco and alcohol.
"Yuki, is your brain as messy as your hair? Find a decent excuse! You think I'll believe that?"
He extended a short, thick finger, pointing at Ariel and then at Yuki.
"A brat whose hair hasn't even grown in yet, doing an Intermediate Cadre assessment? Did he complete a life-or-death S-rank mission, or has he spent eight years building seniority in a junior cadre position?"
With every sentence the supervisor spoke, his tone rose a notch, and his spittle almost sprayed onto Yuki's face.
Yuki lowered her head even further, almost burying it in her chest, her hands tightly clutching the hem of her clothes, her knuckles turning white from the force.
She tried to explain: "Supervisor, this gentleman really is..."
"Really what?"
The supervisor rudely interrupted her, giving her no chance to speak at all.
"I don't care who he is! It's working hours now. Instead of being at your post handling that mountain of paperwork, you're wandering around here with some kid from who-knows-where? I think you don't want your bonus this month!"
Yuki's lips moved, wanting to say more, but seeing the supervisor's arrogant and unreasonable face, all her words got stuck in her throat.
She knew that any explanation was futile.
In this man's eyes, right and wrong didn't matter; what mattered was that his authority was not to be challenged.
Seeing that Yuki was no longer arguing, the supervisor's face showed a smug expression.
His gaze began to wander inappropriately. His murky little eyes, like two slimy worms, followed Yuki's ill-fitting uniform skirt from her slightly disheveled collar all the way down, finally stopping at her calves.
He cleared his throat, and his voice instantly became oily, a complete contrast to his previous irritability.
"Yuki,"
He leaned in closer, the smell of cheap perfume mixed with sweat making one want to vomit.
"Look at you, staying up late working overtime every day, your dark circles are almost hitting the floor. It's so hard on you."
As he spoke, he unconsciously rubbed his hands together, his palms seeping greasy sweat from tension and excitement.
"Work doesn't have to be that desperate. Some things can be handled in a different way, which would be much easier."
His voice was very low, carrying a nauseating implication.
"This afternoon, come to my office. We can... discuss your upcoming work arrangements in depth and in detail."
He emphasized the word 'discuss' particularly heavily, the desire in his eyes almost overflowing.
Yuki's whole body stiffened, as if ice water had been poured over her from head to toe, her stomach churning.
She instinctively took half a step back to distance herself from the supervisor, the last trace of color draining from her face.
She suppressed her nausea and forced a smile that looked worse than crying, her voice as thin as a mosquito's hum:
"Thank you for your concern, Supervisor... but there's no need. I think my current work is quite good. Although it's a bit tiring, it's very fulfilling."
This polite but distant refusal was like a needle, instantly piercing the supervisor's hypocritical mask.
Being rejected to his face by someone he considered an 'inferior,' especially in front of an outsider, the supervisor immediately lost face.
That wretched smile vanished instantly, replaced by a hideous look of shame turned to anger.
"Fine! Very well!"
He laughed out of extreme anger, pointing at Yuki's nose and cursing,
"I gave you face and you threw it back at me, didn't you? Who do you think you are? Fulfilling? I think you're just idle and bored!"
His voice echoed in the empty corridor, sounding particularly harsh.
"That report on Pokémon distribution in the Hoenn region I asked you to organize a few days ago had a bunch of errors! Take it back and rewrite it! Hand it to me before the end of the day! Not a single mistake!"
"Also, there's a problem with the inventory records for that batch of supplies in Warehouse No. 3. Go handle that as well!"
"Now! Immediately! Right now! Get back to your post!"
The supervisor threw a mountain of work at her at once, clearly a case of personal vendetta, wanting to work Yuki to death at her desk today.
Ariel had been standing aside from beginning to end like an outsider, watching this clumsy workplace bullying drama with an expressionless face.
He wasn't a fool; he had seen this kind of scene many times.
It was nothing more than a boss with a bit of petty power exploiting and harassing a female subordinate.
His gaze fell on Yuki.
Indeed, as he had seen at first glance, this girl was very exhausted, her hair was messy, and there were heavy dark circles under her eyes.
But even so, that drab gray uniform couldn't hide her delicate features and graceful figure.
If she were to tidy herself up properly, she would be considered a rare beauty.
However, none of this had anything to do with Ariel. He never had any particular feelings toward a woman's appearance; in his eyes, people were only divided into two types: useful and useless.
Right now, this woman named Yuki was 'useful' to him.
She was his guide.
Although the possibility was small, if time was delayed because of this farce and the assessment grounds were taken by someone else, he would have to wait another day.
One day.
For Ariel, wasting a day was more unbearable than losing a battle.
His time was precious, and every minute and second had a clear plan.
Thinking of this, the little patience Ariel had left was finally exhausted.
He glanced at the electronic clock on the wall, the numbers ticking away monotonously.
Enough.
Just as the supervisor was roaring and reaching out with his greasy hand to grab Yuki's arm, that oily wrist was firmly clamped by another hand.
That hand wasn't particularly large; the fingers were slender and the knuckles well-defined, one might even say it was somewhat thin.
But such a hand was like a pair of red-hot iron pincers, locking the supervisor's wrist so tightly that he couldn't move at all.
The air seemed to freeze at this moment.
The supervisor cried out in pain, the expression of shame and anger on his face freezing instantly before turning into shock and rage.
He whipped his head around, a pair of bloodshot eyes glaring fiercely at Ariel.
"Who the hell are you? Do you have a death wish!?"
He roared in a low voice, trying to overpower this ignorant brat with his momentum,
"Let go of me right now!"