CHAPTER 85 — WHEN ADULTS PRETEND THEY ARE IN CONTROL
The meeting room was designed to be intimidating.
High ceiling. Thick stone walls. Soundproof formation layers etched directly into the structure. A massive oval table carved from a single slab of spirit-reinforced rock sat at the center, polished to a dull sheen that reflected light without warmth.
It was supposed to inspire authority.
Instead, it inspired headaches.
Mei Ying stood near the window with her arms crossed, posture rigid, gaze fixed outside toward the distant outline of the Vermillion Grand Arena. She had been standing there for a while. No one had asked her to sit. More accurately, no one had dared.
Around the table sat instructors from multiple academies, their expressions ranging from tightly controlled concern to open disbelief. Cups of tea sat untouched in front of them. Someone's notes had already been crumpled and uncrumpled twice.
