"Is that so, Miao?" a deep, familiar voice asked lazily from the opposite end of the room.
Miao froze, his hand hovering over the back of his leather chair, as a cold spike of dread pierced his chest because he recognized that heavy, oppressive voice from the docks just fifteen minutes ago.
He slowly turned his head, his small eyes tracking past the horrified faces of his colleagues, until his gaze locked onto the man sitting casually in the Chairman's seat.
Miao's jaw unhinged and dropped to the floor, as all the blood drained from his face, leaving him looking like a fresh corpse.
The broke street rat he had just insulted, threatened, and laughed at was sitting at the head of the table, radiating the terrifying aura of a literal god holding the power of life and death over his entire career.
"Y-you..." Miao stammered pathetically, his knees knocking together, as his brain short-circuited under the massive, crushing weight of reality. "What are you doing in that chair?!"
