Chapter 1098: Chapter 768: Selling Dog Meat [01] A Show of Force
"Who said you could leave?"
Nora Scott’s words weren’t light or heavy, her voice not even raised, barely counting as stern. But just that one throwaway line made this whole external support team stop in unison.
A bunch of gazes snapped over at her.
Full of wariness.
"We’ve already agreed to your brother. What more do you want?" someone questioned.
Nora arched a brow. "If I’m not mistaken, I’m your team leader."
"..."
No one spoke.
There was this faint sense of doom.
"Come," Nora lifted her chin a little and pointed to the seats on both sides of the desk. "Sit."
Rita stepped out, her whole face practically spelling "I’ve got a problem with you." She ground her teeth and said in a low voice, "Even if you’re the team leader, you don’t have the right to stop us from eating, do you?"
Her voice was full of anger.
"I don’t have the right to stop you from eating, but I do have the right to call a meeting." Nora drawled lazily, but in the next second her features chilled, her tone suddenly turning harsh. "Either stay and attend my meeting, or walk out of here for your meal and then get the hell out for good."
On those last two words, her expression snapped taut; the easygoing air vanished, replaced by a top‑down, domineering presence.
It was inexplicably intimidating.
They unconsciously swallowed, hearts thumping.
—One thing they had to admit: as team leader, Nora Scott was indeed "one rank above" them.
—If Nora really took a disliking to anyone here and filed a report upstairs with solid reasons, they could be packing their things any day.
For the sake of pride, they didn’t want to take orders from Nora.
For the sake of reality, they had no choice but to compromise.
So, after a brief stalemate, they finally moved, walking over one after another and picking seats.
"What’s this meeting about?" Rita took a deep breath and asked.
Her tone was icy.
Not a shred of good attitude.
"Rude to your team leader. I’ll remember that first."
Nora openly "held a grudge." Under Rita’s startled stare, she reached out and took the set of materials they’d been working on.
She flipped through it casually.
But halfway through, she couldn’t keep going. She snapped the file shut and tossed it back onto the desk.
"You churned out this piece of crap and still have the nerve to sit here?" Nora sneered. Her taunting, mocking words were like a poisoned blade, stabbing straight into their chests, not giving them a shred of face.
"Don’t get too cocky!"
A hot‑headed professor slammed the table and roared at Nora, seething.
Faced with his agitation and outrage, Nora looked like she’d just heard a joke. She lounged there like some lord and asked, as if it were only natural, "When have I ever not been cocky?"
"..."
Fuck.
With that bout of "self‑dragging," the curses everyone had stuck in their throats suddenly wouldn’t come out.
—They almost choked to death on it.
These days, people with this level of self‑awareness are rare.
And people this self‑aware who feel zero shame about it? Rarer still.
"Three things."
While everyone was at a loss for words, Nora clapped her hands and then stood up.
—When everyone else was sitting and she alone stood, her momentum naturally spiked. At the same time, the aggression rolling off her made them stiffen in their chairs; their emotions were unconsciously pulled along, a vague tension and caution settling in their hearts.
"One: you’re not taking the job seriously. This is work hours, yet you drop a critical task to hang around playing games with a kid fresh out of high school. Absolutely absurd."
Nora pressed her palm lightly to the table, her gaze sweeping over every person present.
She said, "Three thousand‑word reflection from each of you. On my desk tomorrow morning."
"You’re the one who told us to compete!"
The hot‑headed professor was about to explode from anger.
"So whatever I say goes? You’ve got zero mind of your own?" Nora shot him a frosty look, her tone sharp and cold. "If I told you to get lost right now, would you?"
"..."
The hot‑headed professor snapped his mouth shut.
"What right do you have to punish us with a reflection?"
"You’re just a team leader, waving that little title around like an imperial edict. When we were already doing research, you were God knows where! A snot‑nosed kid thinks she can order us around."
"Heh. I’ve lived more than half my life and never written a self‑criticism. People would laugh if they heard! Nora Scott, don’t take yourself too seriously!"
...
She’d just silenced one side, and on the other, the rest of the experts couldn’t help but start chiming in.
—Usually they’re the ones making other people write reflections.
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