INT – CGO MAJOR GENERAL'S OFFICE – 9:00 AM
The door closed with a soft thud, followed by a few hesitant footsteps. A woman in a lab coat stood before the desk.
"The doctor said you called for me," Evah said flatly, her tone distant. It had been three days since that conversation in the laboratory, and she'd been acting like this toward him ever since.
Seated on his usual throne-like chair, the Major General shot her a look—one she quickly averted. He sighed, crossing his arms firmly against his chest.
"You turned me into a guinea pig behind my back, and now you're acting like the victim, Bunny." He leaned back, eyes locked on her.
"I did not!" Her grip tightened on the tablet in her hand.
"It's been days, and you're acting like a spoiled kid." His disapproving gaze didn't waver.
"I was just trying to help!" This time she met his eyes, defiant.
"Riko said you have a proposal to make. Let's hear it." He pulled his laptop closer, powering it on.
Evah froze. Her mind raced. Doctor Riko, you did not.
But she knew he had. For days she'd been avoiding the subject—certifications, the Doctor, all of it. And yet, on four, maybe five occasions, she could recall Riko popping up in the background, fidget toy in hand, smiling brightly as he teased:
"Do you want me to tell Erion about it?"
"Should I ask Erion?"
"I can ask Erion."
And every time, she'd given the same bow, the same quiet answer:
"I'll do it, Doctor. Please don't worry about me."
But of course, Riko wasn't a fool. He was a genius, one who read people with terrifying accuracy. And now, standing in front of Erion, Evah felt cornered. Because she was.
"Is it something illegal again?" Erion mocked.
"No!" she shot back, sharp and instant.
"Then what?"
"It's about, ahm…" She opened her mouth but no words came out. His chair swayed slowly as he waited, almost bored.
"Hm?" His tone carried the weight of impatience.
"If it's not illegal, what's stopping you?"
Her chest tightened. "It's about… a medical license." She muttered, barely audible, the tablet suddenly heavy in her hands.
Erion raised a brow, questioning. "You can sit down." He gestured to the seats across from him. "I don't bite." His chuckle was low, teasing.
Avoiding his gaze, she stepped toward the chair and sat.
"Remind me," he said, signing documents on his desk without looking up. "I know Riko has one too."
The professional mask on his face was one she rarely saw. It threw her off more than his usual teasing.
"It's…" She stole a glance at him. He was now typing on his laptop, only half-watching her.
"I'm listening," he assured briefly, eyes back on the screen.
Just talk professionally, she told herself.
"This is a medical license, it helps with accreditation in the medical field for originators."
"But you already had knowledge in that, right?" His brows furrowed slightly, but his attention never left the laptop.
"Y-yes." She fumbled, pulling up files on her tablet. "But this one is a specialization. Collecting five or more leads to the title 'Doctor,' like Doctor Riko." She slid the tablet across, showing him a chart.
Erion took it, scanning the graph.
"These certificates are very difficult to obtain," she continued nervously, "and also very expensive."
Her heart pounded. He could easily reject her. She had no prior credited work to strengthen her case, every work was legally bound to her previous company, No name, no trace that leads to her.
Plus, only days ago, she'd told him to shut up.
She inhaled deeply, steadying herself as he reviewed the requirements and procedures. In reality she already prepared herself for the rejection, it was not just because of Erion but it was how this request works on company sponsorships.
"Okay, cool." He shrugged, handing the tablet back. "Tell me what you need, and I'll send it to Finance."
Evah's mouth fell open, her face lighting with both confusion and relief. Approval—just like that? Normally this kind of request was a battlefield, a debate she never won.
"I… I have some samples prepared—" She scrambled to open a backup folder of prototypes. A few wrong clicks until she found the right one, pushing the glass back to Erion's view.
But he pushed the tablet back toward her and returned to typing. Her heart skipped a beat, fear.
Then Erion continues "It's fine. Just try not to let it affect your other working hours." His tone was professional. Almost nonchalant.
"But—" Evah shot to her feet, disbelief etched in her face.
Erion turned at her sudden movement. "Any problem?"
"I haven't even shown you any proof yet." She dropped back into the chair, words tangled on her tongue. She'd prepared piles of evidence, pages of explanations—and all of it tossed aside like scraps. The dismissal stung, though in a way she couldn't quite resent.
"Why do I need to question you?" Erion chuckled, tapping lazily at his screen. "You're next to Riko—technically a high-ranking person."
Finally, his eyes lifted, pinning her in place. Serious, cutting through her confusion as if he could read every thought swirling in her head. And of course, he could.
"Have a little faith in yourself, Bunny." His grin curved sharp, more like a taunt than encouragement, but the words still landed where they were meant to.
His words hit like a slap—mocking in tone, but undeniably affirming in meaning. He had a way of doing that, breaking her down and lifting her at the same time.
Heat swelled in her chest. That someone trusted her talent… that someone recognized her passion without doubting it. It was scorchingly warm.
"If you've got nothing else, you can go now. Later, Bunny." He waved her off casually.