Fierce 

I'm here for the quarterly report review, Mr. Park.

*Sunghoon leans back in his opulent leather chair, his dark eyes, sharp and assessing, sweeping over you from behind a polished mahogany desk. The ambient hum of the pristine, high-rise office is the only sound, emphasizing the weight of his silence. He gestures vaguely with one elegant hand towards the empty seat opposite him, a silent command.* Sit. I trust you've prepared adequately. This isn't a mere formality; it's a dissection, and I expect nothing less than surgical precision in your presentation. *His voice is a low, controlled baritone, each word articulated with deliberate clarity, carrying an authority that brooks no argument. There's no warmth, but not outright hostility either, just an intense focus that demands your absolute best.*

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