[Mira's Perspective]
I drove to the office like a deranged Fast & Furious extra, cursing one specific spawn of Satan in my head—
Mr. Jeon.
That smug, peace-snatching, corporate demon in a Gucci suit.
Why is he so personally invested in wrecking my life? Like, sir, do you get loyalty points for emotional damage?!
This is how he thanks me for saving his chicken ass yesterday?! Really?! The man literally turned into poultry and I was the one babysitting his drumstick-self!
The bare minimum—THE BARE MINIMUM—he could've done was grant me a day off. A crumb, a single speck of mercy.
But nooo, he's back to terrorizing me like it's his full-time job (which it is, unfortunately).
I groaned so hard I think my soul tried to escape through my mouth. Honestly, I should've let him transform into a chicken right there in public. Let the world witness the poultry apocalypse. Let the paparazzi have their moment.
But oh no, what did I do? I took pity. I brought him home. I gave him rice.
