******The MD’s demeanor shifted with absurd speed.Gone was the fearsome, unyielding disciplinarian, and in his place stood the groveling subordinate from before, smiling obsequiously as though nothing untoward had ever transpired.The staff stared in stunned disbelief.Was this truly the same man who, moments earlier, had seemed prepared to reduce them to dust?Their mouths hung open, unable to reconcile the transformation. Was this the same merciless figure who had so coldly condemned them?But the middle-aged man paid them no mind whatsoever. He didn’t even glance their way. His attention remained fixed solely on Glenn, his posture low, his words reverent.Bowing deeply, he continued without waiting for Glenn’s permission. “Sir, after leaving you earlier, I reviewed the CCTV footage. I went through it thoroughly, and what I saw… their behavior was inexcusable.”He gestured sharply toward the trembling receptionist. “This one, for example… she abandoned her post the moment

******Glenn’s statement wasn’t loud. It wasn’t dramatic.Yet somehow, it managed to echo in the heads of everybody present more painfully than if he had roared. His nonchalance, his refusal to even acknowledge their pitiful state beyond that offhand remark, made their humiliation feel bottomless.Done with wasting even a flicker more energy on the matter, Glenn turned his attention lazily toward the Managing Director, who stood stiff and visibly dazed, as if trying to reconcile this indifferent man with the authority he wielded so effortlessly.Glenn pulled his phone from his pocket and held it out with the same disinterest one might extend to a shopping receipt. “Save your number here. I’ll beep you. If you encounter something you can’t handle… call.”The MD blinked rapidly, his mind racing to catch up. “I—” he stammered, startled out of his stupor only when Glenn’s fingers flexed in the universal gesture of impatience. “O-okay, boss!” he stuttered hastily, accepting the phone

******Glenn’s brow lifted a fraction higher at this sight, though his expression remained fundamentally unchanged… detached, bored, as though he were witnessing yet another cliché play itself out before him.His gaze drifted lazily over the group.Six of them were unmistakably gangsters… the tattoos, the tacky gold chains, the vulgar language, and the cheap cologne mingling with cigarette smoke.The seventh man stood out. He appeared slightly younger… probably in his mid-thirties, dressed in obnoxiously multi-colored, expensive designer clothes that screamed insecurity rather than wealth.His grin was cocky, smug, the kind that suggested he thought himself untouchable simply because his wallet said so.Unlike his lackeys, he wasn’t shouting. He simply watched, his arms folded against his chest, wearing an expression that declared: I’m entitled to this, and the world will bend because I say so.It was the kind of grin that practically begged someone to wipe it clean off his fac

******The flamboyantly dressed man fixed his gaze back on Glenn.The earlier flicker of shock in his eyes had now morphed into something else entirely… interest, amusement, and a faint touch of malice wrapped in arrogant curiosity.Finally, after an agonizingly long pause meant purely for dramatic effect, he spoke.“You’re handsome,” he declared, his raspy voice carrying a lazy arrogance that stretched each word like taffy.His expression darkened as though the very notion offended his spirit. “And that… that is the one thing I hate most in this wretched world. For anyone… anyone to dare outshine me in looks, me, the dragon son of the… of the… whatever!”He flicked his hair back with such exaggerated flair that one might mistake him for a second-rate celebrity attempting to revive his fading career.“Whoop!”“That’s our handsome young master!”“You’re slaying it, young master!”The thugs whistled and clapped like the loyal but brainless entourage they were, cheering as thou

****** At this moment, Glenn stood perfectly still, calm, and silent. He doesn’t appear moved even a bit, and his expression… it hadn’t so much as wavered beneath the growing hostility pressing down on him like a storm. He regarded the so-called young master with a faintly quizzical look, as if trying to deduce whether the man had been dropped as a child or merely suffered from long-term exposure to his own vanity. His gaze flicked briefly to the gathered thugs… their smug smirks, their cocky glares, and their looks of gleeful anticipation, as if appraising insects beneath a microscope. Then, slowly, Glenn’s brow furrowed. His lips parted, his features tightening… not with fear, not with regret, but with the faintest glimmer of perplexed seriousness. ‘Ah, he finally realized he's screwed,’ the thugs thought in unison, cold smiles creeping across their faces. They exchanged glances, already mentally celebrating, assuming that Glenn’s reaction was due to the realization of