He said it as if he hadn't just disrupted the entire room's equilibrium. As if introducing a foreign operative above executive rank was nothing more than an aside. The woman with the severe bun didn't break her stare.

A test, of course. Everything with Mori was a test. The question hung in the air, and around the table, the executives waited—some eager, some indifferent, one or two already reaching for conclusions before Y/N had spoken a single word. The man to Mori's left, broad-shouldered with a scar cutting through his eyebrow, let out a low breath that might have been amusement or irritation.