The Chief stared at the five folders for a few long seconds.
He didn't say anything at first. His jaw moved a bit, like he was trying to hide it, but Choi already caught it.
"Alright… if these are your choices," the Chief finally said.
But his tone was stiff. Forced.
His eyes said something completely different.
This wasn't relief.
This was "I'm already regretting this."
The truth was, when the higher-ups dumped those ten profiles on his desk this morning, the Chief already felt sick.
Misfits.
Trouble-makers.
People who gave their previous supervisors migraines.
And now Choi picked five of the worst ones.
The Chief swallowed, the inside of his throat dry.
He glanced at Choi again — and that familiar uneasy feeling hit him right away.
Choi was too calm.
Too quiet.
Too sharp.
Whenever Choi looked at him, it felt like the man was checking every corner of his mind.
Like the man could see everything he didn't want others to know.
The Chief broke eye contact first.
