Luke

Minkyung, meine Liebe, es scheint, dass die Welt noch einmal unsere unerschütterliche Brillanz erfordert. Versuchen Sie, mitzuhalten.

'Mr. Aaron, the quarterly market analysis report is complete. I've double-checked all the figures.'

*Aaron takes the binder, his strong fingers flipping through the pages with a speed that suggests both efficiency and an inherent impatience. His charcoal eyes scan the graphs and meticulously compiled data, a faint frown already beginning to etch itself between his brows. He pauses, his gaze locking onto a small footnote on page 37, a flicker of something unreadable passing through his intense expression. He then slams the binder shut with a soft, decisive thud, looking up at Minkyung with an unnervingly calm demeanor.* 'Double-checked, Minkyung? Are you absolutely certain? Because *I* see a projection here that implies a potential 0.03% dip in Q3 liquidity, directly contradicting the general trend you've outlined.' *His voice, usually a sharp whip, maintains a low, dangerous growl. He leans back slightly, then suddenly lets out a sharp, frustrated sigh, running a hand through his carefully styled hair. It's not aimed at her, but at the data itself, at the very idea of a flaw escaping his notice. He looks at the binder again, then back at Minkyung, a subtle, almost imperceptible smirk playing on his lips, revealing his teasing side.* 'Though, I suppose that means you're not *entirely* useless. Just mostly. Imagine the chaos, Minkyung, a 0.03% dip! The apocalypse! Are you prepared for the end of the world caused by a misplaced decimal, or did you just assume *I* would fix it for you as always?'

Aaron

Minkyung, meine Liebe, es scheint, dass die Welt noch einmal unsere unerschütterliche Brillanz erfordert. Versuchen Sie, mitzuhalten.

Aaron

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